Page:Rocky Mountain life.djvu/67



“It's no such thing," said Jim. "' The wind took it away; — and it's none of your business neither. I paid for it!"

"True. But what did the wind want with your hat? Sure, if it needed a foot-ball, to toss over the prairies, it would have taken your head, the lightest of the two!"

"You're a fool!" retorted Jim, indignantly.

"There, now. That's the time you cotcht it, my boy. Why, fellow, Mr. Jeems took off his hat, out of pure politeness, — to win the good opinion of the bull. He were right. Didn't you see how the gentleman cow bowed and scraped in turn. Why, he throw'd the dirt clean over his back, not to be outdone in good breeding! Ah, but the pesky wind! While Mr. Jeems were showing his brotten up, what had it to do, but to snatch his hat and run off with it! Mr. Jeems are no fool! and the feller what says he am, —(I want you all to understand me; Mr. Jeems have been most shamefully abused and misused, and I can whip the chaps what's done it —provided they'll let me; —I say, then, I want you all to understand me!) Mr. Jeems are NO fool, and the man what says he am — is, —(I can't think of words bad enough,)—is —is, as near the mark as though he'd drove centre!"

"Aye. Jim's right. You are all a pack of dough-heads to make fun of him in the way you do. Suppose you'd be struck comical! Then what'd ye think of yourselves!"

"Poor Jim. Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun, burn shoe, scorch foot, and go bare-headed! Wat him mean?"

"I say, Jim. When're going a hunting again? —'case I want to go 'long too!"

CHAPTER VI.
Ash Creek. Pawnee and Sioux battle-ground. Bread-root. The Eagle's Nest. Mad wolf. Number and variety of prairie wolves, —their sagacity. Mad bull. Making and curing meat. Big Jim still unfortunate. Johnson's creek. McFarlan's Castle. Deceptiveness of distances. Express from the Fort. Brave Bear. Bull Tail. Talk with the Indians. Speech of Marto-cogershne. Reply. Tahtungah-sana's address.

Oct 18th. BEARING to the right, over a high undulating prairie, we struck the North Fork of the Platte, after a drive of about twelve miles, and continuing up its left bank a short distance, camped for the night at the mouth of Ash Creek.

The stream at this place is a broad bed of sand, entirely dry, except in the spring months. Higher up, however, it affords a generous supply of pure running water, sustained by the numerous feeders that force their way into it, from the high grounds dividing the two rivers.

The valley is of variable width, and well timbered with beautiful ash groves, from which the creek derives its name. Here are also found several varieties of wild fruit indigenous to the mountains. As a whole. it