n his fingers, and note many of the movements
that were passing upon the plain in front of him--all this without the
Indians having the slightest suspicion that he lived!

It was a terrible time for him--an ordeal equal to that endured by
Sure-shot and myself. Every now and then some half drunken savage would
come staggering past; and he knew not how soon some one of these
strollers might stick a spear into him, out of mere wantonness! On the
arrival of night, his hopes had revived; and the cool air had also the
effect of partially restoring his strength. The savages, carousing
around their fires, took no notice of him; and, as soon as darkness was
fairly down, he had commenced crawling off in the direction of the
river. He had a double object in going thither. He was suffering from
horrid thirst; and he hoped there to find relief, as well as a
hiding-place. After crawling for more than an hour, he had succeeded in
reaching the bank; and, taking to the water, he had waded down, and
concealed himself under the willows--in the place where we had found
him. Such was the adventure of the _ci-devant_ soldier, Patrick
O'Tigg--an escape almost miraculous!

As if fulfilling the laws of dramatic justice--that the farce should
succeed the tragedy--our attention was at this moment called to a
ludicrous incident. The Mexican trapper had ridden up, and halted
beside the waggon; when all at once his eyes became fixed upon an object
that lay near at hand upon the grass. It was the black silk hat of the
ex-rifleman, already mentioned in our narrative. After gazing at it for
a moment, the Mexican slid down from his horse; and, hobbling towards
the hat, took it up. Then uttering a fierce "_Carajo_," he dashed the
"tile" back to the ground, and commenced stamping upon it, as if it had
been some venomous serpent he desired to annihilate!

"Hilloo! theer, _hombre_!" shouted Sure-shot. "What the ole scratch air
ye abeout? Why, ye yeller-bellied fool, thet's my _hat_ yeer stompin'
on!"

"_Your_ hat!" echoed the trapper in a contemptuous tone. "_Carrambo,
senor_! you should be ashamed of yourself. Any man who would wear a
silk hat! Wagh!"

"An' why ain't a silk hat as good's any other?"

"_Maldito sea_!" continued the trapper, taking the wooden leg from his
waist, and hammering the hat with it against a stone--"_maldito
sombrero_! but for that accursed invention, we poor trappers wouldn't be
as we are now. _Carrambo_! i