a'most see through him, so I
offered to kill my horse, an' cut it up for meat; but you niver saw
sich a face he made. 'I'd rather die first,' says he, 'than eat it;'
so we didn't kill it. But that very day Martin got a shot at a wild
horse an' killed it. The natter-list was down in the bed o' a creek at
the time gropin' for creepers, an' he didn't see it.

"'He'll niver eat it,' says Martin.

"'That's true,' says I.

"'Let's tell him it's a buffalo,' says he.

"'That would be tellin' a lie,' says I.

"So we stood lookin' at each other, not knowin' what to do.

"'I'll tell ye what,' cries Martin; 'we'll cut it up, and take the
meat into camp an' cook it without _sayin' a word_.'

"'Done,' says I, 'that's it;' for ye must know the poor critter wos no
judge o' meat. He couldn't tell one kind from another, an' he niver
axed questions. In fact he niver a'most spoke to us all the trip.
Well, we cut up the horse, an' carried the flesh an' marrowbones into
camp, takin' care to leave the hoofs an' skin behind, an' sot to work
an' roasted steaks an' marrowbones."

"When the natter-list came back ye should ha' seen the joyful face he
put on when he smelt the grub, for he was all but starved out, poor
critter."

"'What have we got here?' cried he, rubbin' his hands an' sittin'
down."

"'Steaks an' marrow-bones,' says Martin."

"'Capital!' says he. 'I'm _so_ hungry.'"

"So he fell to work like a wolf. I niver seed a man pitch into
anything like as that natter-list did into that horseflesh."

"'These are first-rate marrow-bones,' says he, squintin' with one eye
down the shin-bone o' the hind leg to see if it was quite empty."

"'Yes, sir, they is,' answered Martin, as grave as a judge."

"'Take another, sir,' says I."

"'No, thankee,' says he with a sigh, for he didn't like to leave off."

"Well, we lived for a week on horseflesh, an' first-rate livin' it
wos; then we fell in with buffalo, an' niver ran short again till we
got to the settlements, when he paid us our money an' shook hands,
sayin' we'd had a nice trip, an' he wished us well. Jist as we wos
partin' I said, says I, 'D'ye know what it wos we lived on for a week
arter we wos well-nigh starved in the prairies?'"

"'What,' says he, 'when we got yon capital marrowbones?'"

"'The same,' says I. 'Yon wos _horse_ flesh,' says I; 'an' I think
ye'll surely niver say again that it isn't first-rate livin'.'"

"'Ye're jokin',' says he, turnin' pale."

"'It'