silence, and the dogs as
mutely brought up the rear. The depressed, not to say woe-begone,
appearance of the singular procession certainly had in it, in the
fullest measure, all the elements of humor. In this suggestive manner
the column filed into the cabin. The dogs stole softly to their
accustomed places, Wild Bill dropped into a chair, and the Trapper
addressed himself mechanically to some domestic concerns. At last the
silence became oppressive. Wild Bill turned in his chair, and, facing
the Trapper, said:--

"It's too devilish bad!"

"Ef ye was in council, ginerals or privits, ye'd carry every vote with
ye on that statement, Bill," said the Trapper with deliberation.

"Do you think there is any chance, old man?" queried Bill, earnestly.

"Not on the 'arth, Bill," answered the Trapper. "Ye see," he
continued, "the snow wasn't so deep on my side the trail and I had my
eye on them pigs afore ye got yer head above the drift, and I noted
the rate of their movin'. They was goin' mighty fast, Bill, mighty
fast. Ye must take into account that they had the slope in their favor
and sartin experiences behind. I've sighted on a good many things that
was gifted in runnin' and flyin', and I never kept a bullit in the
barrel when I wanted feather, fur, or meat, because of the swiftness
of the motion, but ef I had ben standin' ten rods from that trail and
loved the meat like a settler, I wouldn't have wasted powder or lead
on them pigs, Bill." And the two men, looking into each other's faces,
laughed like boys.

"Where do you think they'll fetch up, John Norton?" queried Bill, at
last.

"They won't fetch up," replied the Trapper, wiping his eyes,
"leastwise not this year. Henry has told me that it is twenty-four
thousand miles around the 'arth, and it looked to me as ef them pigs
had started out to sarcumnavigate it, and I conceit it'll be about a
month afore they will come through this clearin' agin. I may be a
little amiss in my calkerlatin', but a day more or less won't make any
difference with you and me, nor with the pigs, either, Bill. They may
be a trifle leaner when they pass the cabin next time, but their gait
will be jest the same, as I conceit." And after a moment, he asked,
sympathetically:--

"How far did ye sled them pigs, Bill?"

"Forty mile," answered Bill, dejectedly.

"It's a goodly distance, considerin' the natur' of the animils,"
replied the Trapper, "and ye must have been tempted to onload the sle