"Why, you've said it," said Pipkins, "what's the use of my repeating
it?"

"Sir-r!" thundered Fieryfaces, the Demosthenean thunderer of Thumbtown,
"Sir-r! I charge you, upon your sworn oath, do you or do you not
say--Blinkins stole things?"

"No, _sir_," was the cautious reply of Pipkins. "I never said Blinkins
stole things, but I _do_ say--_he's got a way of finding things that
nobody lost!_"

"Sir-r," said Fieryfaces, "you can retire," and the court adjourned.

A Night Adventure in Prairie Land.

"I'll take a circuit around, and come out about the lower end of your
_mot_,"* said I to my companion. "You remain here; lie down flat, and
I'll warrant the old doe and her fawns will be found retracing their
steps."

[*] _Mot_ is the name given small clumps of trees or woods, found
scattered over the prairie land of Texas.

We had started from camp about sunrise, to hunt, three of us; one, an
old hunter, who, after marking out our course, giving us the lay of the
land, and various admonitions as to the danger of getting too far from
camp, looking out for "Injin signs," &c., "Old Traps," as we called him,
took a tour southward, and left us. Myself and companion were each armed
with rifles; his a blunt "Yeager," by the way, and mine an Ohio piece,
carrying about one hundred and twenty balls to the pound, consequently
very light, and not a very sure thing for a distance over one hundred
yards. It was in the fall of the year, delightful weather: our wardrobe
consisted of Kentucky jean trousers, boots, straw hats, two shirts, and
jean hunting shirts--all thin, to be sure, but warm and comfortable
enough for a day's hunt. We trudged about until noon, firing but once,
and then at an alligator in a _bayou_, whose coat of mail laughed to
scorn our puny bullets, and, barely flirting his horny tail in contempt,
he slid from his perch back into the greasy and turbid stream. Seating
ourselves upon a dead cotton-wood, we made a slight repast upon some
cold _pone_, which, moistened with a drop of "Mon'galy," proved, I must
needs confess, upon such occasions, viands as palatable as a Tremont
dinner to a city gourmand. While thus quietly disposed, all of a sudden
we heard a racket in our rear, which, though it startled us at first,
soon apprised us that game was at hand. Dropping low, we soon saw, a few
yards above us, the large antlers of a buck. He darted down the slight
bluffs, followed by a doe and two well-grow