band was playin' to beat any band _you_ ever
heard--horns an' fiddles an' drums; horns that worked like a accordeon,
pullin' in an' out; ol' mossback he-fiddles that must a been more'n a
hundred years old to git to grow so big; drums with bellies big an'
round as your mammy's soap kettle; an' th' boss music-maker on a perch
in th' middle of th' bunch, shakin' a little _carajo_ pole to beat the
brains out any of th' outfit that wa'n't workin' to suit him.

"Some of th' tunes was sweet an' slow enough so you could follow 'em
afoot, but most of 'em was so fast a feller'd need to be runnin' 'em on
his top-cutting horse to git close enough to tell if they was real music
or jest a hullabaloo big noise.

"But what s'rprised me most, ol' man, was to find that that thar
the-a-ter was built up round one of the roughest, rockiest, wildest
pieces of country I ever saw outside th' Black Hills, it layin' in th'
end whar they was play-actin'. It shore looked like a side canon up nigh
th' head-waters of Rapid Creek, big boulders, an' pines, an' cliffs, an'
a fall carryin' as much water as Deadman Creek.

"An' weather! Say, that little ol' the-_a_-ter canon could put up a
worse storm than you or me ever see in the Rockies. She was thunderin'
and lightenin' till I was dead sure we was all in for a water-spout, an'
I reckon one must a come after I left.

"I always thought the-_a_-ters was built to be funny in, but that one
was jest nachally full o' hell's own grief as long as I got to stay in
her. Nothin' doin' but sufferin' an' murderin' meanness.

"Plumb alone, an' lost in th' canon, I reckon, was a pore little gal,
'bout sixteen year old, leanin' on a stump close up to whar I was
settin', an' sobbin' fit to kill herself. She had 'bout next to nothin'
on, an' was that ga'nted up an' lean 'peared like she was nigh starved
to death.

"An' thar she hung an' cried an' cried till it 'peared to me some o' th'
women folks ought to a gone to her; but they-all never noticed none, an'
went right on gassin' with their fellers.

"Finally, when she got so weak I thought she was goin' to drop, out from
behind a boulder slips a great big feller--all hair an' whiskers but his
laigs, for he had on nothin' but a fur huntin'-shirt comin' half-way to
his knees--an' in his hand he carries a long _bilduque_ skelping-knife.

"'Fore I realized he meant trouble, he makes a jump an' grabs th' gal by
th' shoulder an' shakes her scandalous, an' while he's