"'Steaks an' marrow-bones,' says Martin." "'Capital!' says he. 'I'm _so_ hungry.'" "So he fell to work like a wolf. I niver seed a man pitch into anything like as that natter-list did into that horseflesh." "'These are first-rate marrow-bones,' says he, squintin' with one eye down the shin-bone o' the hind leg to see if it was quite empty." "'Yes, sir, they is,' answered Martin, as grave as a judge." "'Take another, sir,' says I." "'No, thankee,' says he with a sigh, for he didn't like to leave off." "Well, we lived for a week on horseflesh, an' first-rate livin' it wos; then we fell in with buffalo, an' niver ran short again till we got to the settlements, when he paid us our money an' shook hands, sayin' we'd had a nice trip, an' he wished us well. Jist as we wos partin' I said, says I, 'D'ye know what it wos we lived on for a week arter we wos well-nigh starved in the prairies?'" "'What,' says he, 'when we got yon capital marrowbones?'" "'The same,' says I. 'Yon wos _horse_ flesh,' says I; 'an' I think ye'll surely niver say again that it isn't first-rate livin'.'" "'Ye're jokin',' says he, turnin' pale." "'It's true, sir; as true as ye're standin' there.'" "Well, would ye believe it, he turned--that natter-list did--as sick as a dog on the spot wot he wos standin' on, an' didn't taste meat again for three days!" Shortly after the conclusion of Joe's story they reached the camp, and here they found the women and children flying about in a state of terror, and the few men who had been left in charge arming themselves in the greatest haste. "Hallo! something wrong here," cried Cameron, hastening forward, followed by Joe. "What has happened, eh?" "Injuns comin', monsieur; look dere," answered a trapper, pointing down the valley. "Arm and mount at once, and come to the front of the camp," cried Cameron in a tone of voice that silenced every other, and turned confusion into order.