Wild Western Scenes | Page 8

perfectly familiar with the course he was
to pursue by the instructions of Boone.
Although the light of morning was now apparent above, yet the thick
growth of the trees, whose clustering branches mingled in one dense
mass overhead, made it still dark and sombre below; and Joe, to divert
Sneak from his unconscionable gait, which, in his endeavours to keep
up, often subjected him to the rude blows of elastic switches, and many
twinges of overhanging grape vines, essayed to engage his companion
in conversation.
"I say, Mr. Sneak," observed Joe, with an eager voice, as his pony
trotted along rather roughly through the wild gooseberry bushes, and
often stumbled over the decayed logs that lay about.

"What do you want, stranger?" replied Sneak, slackening his gait until
he fell back alongside of Joe.
"I only wanted to know if you ever killed a bear before," said Joe,
drawing an easy breath as Pete fell into a comfortable walk.
"Dod rot it, I hain't killed this one yit," said Sneak.
"I didn't mean any offence," said Joe.
"What makes you think you have given any?"
"Because you said dod rot it."
"I nearly always say so--I've said so so often that I can't help it. But
now, as we are on the right footing, I can tell you that I wintered once
in Arkansaw, and that's enough to let you know I'm no greenhorn, no
how you can fix it. And moreover, I tell you, if old Boone wasn't here
hisself, I'd kill this bar as sure as a gun, and my gun is as sure as a
streak of lightning run into a barrel of gunpowder;" and as he spoke he
threw up his heavy gun and saluted the iron with his lips.
"Is your's a rifle?" inquired Joe, to prolong the conversation, his
companion showing symptoms of a disposition to fall into his habit of
going ahead again.
"Sartainly! Does anybody, I wonder, expect to do any thing with a
shot-gun in sich a place as this?"
"Mine's a shot-gun," said Joe.
"Dod--did you ever kill any thing better than a quail with it?" inquired
Sneak, contemptuously.
"I never killed any thing in my life with it--I never shot a gun in all my
life before to-night," said Joe.
"Dod, you haven't fired it to-night, to my sartain knowledge."

"I mean I never went a shooting."
"Did you load her yourself?" inquired Sneak, taking hold of the musket
and feeling the calibre.
"Yes--but I'm sure I did it right. I put in a handful of powder, and paper
on top of it, and then poured in a handful of balls," said Joe.
"Ha! ha! ha! I'll be busted if you don't raise a fuss if you ever get a shot
at the bar!" said Sneak, with emphasis.
"That's what I am after."
"Why don't you go ahead?" demanded Sneak, as Joe's pony stopped
suddenly, with his ears thrust forward. "Dod! whip him up," continued
he, seeing that his companion was intently gazing at some object ahead,
and exhibiting as many marks of alarm as Pete. "It's nothing but a
stump!" said Sneak, going forwards and kicking the object, which was
truly nothing more than he took it to be. Joe then related to him all the
particulars of his nocturnal affair with the supposed stump, previous to
his arrival at the camp, and Sneak, with a hearty laugh, admitted that
both he and the pony were excusable for inspecting all the stumps they
might chance to come across in the dark in future. They now emerged
into the open space which was the boundary of the woods, and after
clambering up a steep ascent for some minutes, they reached the
summit of a tall range of bluffs. From this position the sun could be
seen rising over the eastern ridges, but the flat woods that had been
traversed still lay in darkness below, and silent as the tomb, save the
hooting of owls as they flapped to their hollow habitations in the trees.
The party then dispersed to their coverts under the direction of Sneak,
who with a practised eye instantly perceived all the advantageous posts
for the men, and the places where the bear would most probably run.
Joe had insisted on having his revenge, and begged to be stationed
where he would be most likely to get a shot. He was therefore
permitted to remain at the head of the ravine they had just ascended,
through which a deer path ran, as the most favourable position. After
tying Pete some paces in the rear, he came forwards to the verge of the

valley and seated himself on a dry rock, where he could see some
distance down the path under the tall sumach bushes. He then
commenced cogitating