artridge!"

"That's jest why I picked them kind out ter tell ye 'bout," he answered.
"I reckon the reason is bein' 'round human folks, Cunnel. When a varmint
loses his wildness, he loses his grit, 'n' I may say he's apt ter go
down in health. Ruth says that Injuns could stand bein' burned with fyar
'n' not flinch. Thar hain't no white men now-days kin do hit. I've
tried," he rolled back his sleeve and showed a long scar on his forearm.
"I tried jest ter see, 'n' had ter quit. Hit made me plumb sick. 'N'
that's jest the same with varmints."

They mounted their horses and turned down the road. Colonel May and Bob,
being for the moment together, the old gentleman whispered;

"Interesting sort of fellow."

Bob nodded. "Nervy to try fire, wasn't he?"

"Dale," the Colonel called, "ride up with us! Is it then your
impression," he asked, when the lowly head of Lucy was abreast with the
arched necks of the thoroughbreds, "that civilization has a bad
influence?"

Dale fairly rose in his stirrups. "I never said that," he cried. "I
never said no sech a-thing! Hit hain't so! I said that bein' 'round
folks makes varmints 'n' critters lose thar grit, 'n' be moh apt ter git
sick; bein' brought up in stalls, 'n' stables, 'n' pens, 'n' havin'
their victuals fetched ter 'em all the time, 'n' bein' drove 'n'
bullied, makes 'em lose thar fightin' sperit; 'n' when a thing loses
that hit'll go down. The same way with folks. Why, Cunnel, I knowed a
man who laid behind two rocks 'n' fit all day long with nine bullets in
him, 'cause his son war in the cabin jest below, 'n' both war a-holdin'
off a passel of fellers. But to'ard evenin', when the ole man seed the
fellers rush in 'n' drag his boy out, 'n' kill 'im thar afore his eyes,
he rolled right over hisse'f 'n' died--'n' he hadn't been hit since
dinner. 'N' that jest showed, as long's he had the savage in 'im
fightin' fer the boy, he war all right; but when thar warn't no moh use,
he quit. That's one big trouble with civilization, as we-uns sees hit
from the mountings: hit takes the grit outen folks, 'n' makes 'em want
ter quit too soon."

The Colonel sat gazing moodily between his horse's ears, one of which
was tilted back and the other forward, as though at the same time
listening to the conversation and watching the road. He seemed to have
forgotten that an uncouth mountaineer had been talking; he seemed not to
have heard the low drawl, or in any way have been affected by its
musi