"The rest o' the birds," continued he at length, "seein' the ole cock rubbed out, grew shy, and kep away on t'other side o' the river. 'Twa'n't no use tryin' that dodge over agin. Jest then I spied a coyoat comin' lopin' down the bank, an' another follerin' upon his heels, an' two or three more on the same trail. I know'd it wud be no joke gruppin' one o' them by the leg, but I made up my mind to try it; an' I lay down jest as afore, close up to the calf. 'Twur no go. The cunnin' things seed the float stick, an' kep clur o' the karkidge. I wur a-gwine to cacher under some bush that wur by, an' I begun to carry it up, when all of a suddint I tuk a fresh idee in my head. I seed thur wur drift-wood a plenty on the bank, so I fotched it up, an' built a pen-trap roun' about the calf. In the twinklin' o' a goat's eye I had six varmints in the trap." "Hooraw! Ye war safe then, old hoss." "I tuk a lot o' stones, an' then clomb up on the pen, an' killed the hul kit on 'em. Lord, boyees! 'ee never seed sich a snappin', and snarlin', and jumpin', an' yowltin', as when I peppered them donicks down on 'em. He! he! he! Ho! ho! hoo!" And the smoky old sinner chuckled with delight at the remembrance of his adventure. "You reached Bent's then safe enough, I reckin?" "'Ee--es. I skinned the critters wi' a sharp stone, an' made me a sort o' shirt an' leggins. This niggur had no mind, comin' in naked, to gi' them thur joke at the Fort. I packed enough of the wolf-meat to last me up, an' I got there in less'n a week. Bill wur thur himself, an' 'ee all know Bill Bent. He know'd me. I wa'n't in the Fort a half an hour till I were spick-span in new buckskins, wi' a new rifle; an' that rifle wur Tar-guts, now afore ye." "Ha! you got Tear-guts thar then?" "I got Tar-guts thur then, an' a gun she ur. He! he! he! 'Twa'n't long arter I got her till I tried her. He! he! he! Ho! ho! hoo!" And the old trapper went off into another fit of chuckling. "What are ye laughin' at now, Rube?" asked one of his comrades. "He! he! he! What am I larfin' at? He! he! he! Ho! ho! That ur the crisp o' the joke. He! he! he! What am I larfin' at?" "Yes; tell us, man!" "It are this then I'm larfin' at," replied Rube, sobering down a little, "I wa'n't at Bent's three days when who do 'ee think shed kum to the Fort?" "Who? Maybe the Rapahoes!" "Them same Injuns; an' the very niggurs as set me afoot. They kum to the Fort to trade wi' Bill, an' thur I sees both my old mar an' rifle!" "You got them back then?" "That wur likely. Thur wur a sight o' mountainy men thur, at the time, that wa'n't the fellurs to see this child put down on the parairar for nuthin'. Yander's the critter!" and Rube pointed to the old mare. "The rifle I gin to Bill, an' kep Tar-guts instead, seeing she wur a better gun." "So you got square with the Rapahoes?" "That, young fellur, justs rests on what 'ee 'ud call squar. Do 'ee see these hyur nicks: them standin' sep'rate?"