“‘Then there is indeed hope,’ says I, es the next moment his Nibbs, the king, gives a bibulous war whoop an’ emerges into the open with that jug o’ _aguardiente_ strapped to his middle, a bloody spear held aloft an’ a glitter in his eye. The special session o’ the House o’ Lords adjourns immegiate an’ takes to the tall timber, the noble kinsman o’ the great Montezuma givin’ obligin’ chase. Then a new inspiration o’ sacrilege an’ carnage hatches in his Majesty’s volatile brain an’ with a turrible war whoop he wheels right about an’ charges into the temple o’ Itchlatichlahoola es the high priest an’ his retinue o’ lesser lights bolts from another door with the sacred emblems o’ that gracious divinity tucked under their arms, an’ they went the way o’ the House o’ Lords likewise. His Nibbs re-appears snortin’ in triumph an’ circles like a vexed steer, a-lookin’ fer something to dispute the bloody laurels o’ his victory. When he sights us he is shaken by a great felicity an’ his attitoode is one o’ blandishin’ uncertitoode, es if he entertained a fearful idee we was tantalizin’ visions an’ would melt at the touch. The agony o’ his suspense was something prostratin’ an’ I lets out a yell o’ ‘Whoa, Buck!’ just to relieve his mind, an’ then hyere he come, fust on one side the square, then the other, dancin’ mad. Chinook Bill gives another encouragin’ whoop, an’ his Nibbs cuts the pigeon wing an’ begins to circle, that jug o’ _aguardiente_ cuttin’ heraldic devices in the much disturbed atmosphere, his fat arms pluggin’ chaos an’ his feet comin’ down an’ combustin’ with terra firma like the rattle o’ a ore chute, an’ a-lookin’ fer the world like one o’ them hell vultures es picked our trail through the Sonora Mountains. “‘What’s the natcheral sequence o’ these French ballet fantastics?’ says I. “‘It’s the unconscious promptin’s o’ great mental endowment,’ says Chinook Bill. ‘Jest at present he’s executin’ the Circle o’ Archimedes an’ formin’ a planetary tablet o’ the high heavens; incident’ly he’s performin’ our heagern rituals which precedes a quick an’ horrible despatch o’ the soul from the mortal coil.’ “‘Then, alas! It’s death!’ says I. “‘But we might divert his mind,’ says Bill. “‘Eloocidate,’ says I again. “Fer answer Chinook Bill draws forth with his free hand a bottle o’ Arizona Snake Bite to be took in drops diluted with much water an’ swallowed instant so es to lessen the convulsions o’ agony. “‘I been tryin’ fer the last two months to get strong enough to ease the cork an’ enjoy the heavenly odor o’ this, but I ain’t been robust enough,’ says he, sorrowful. ‘So let them es are more agile an’ spry inherit what the gods bequeath to the valorous.’ “‘It ’ud be cruelty to animals,’ says I. “‘I ain’t offerin’ it es a nerve tonic,’ says Chinook Bill, snappish, ‘an’ I ain’t dilatin’ on its many virchores, but if there is any heagern about es would defy the components o’ this devilish concoction o’ ancient alchemy let him beware,’ says he.