' an' they won't
worry 'bout the bellyache till it comes. Them Injuns filled themselves
to the gullet an' begun to lay back, all swelled up, an' roll an' grunt
an' go to sleep. By an' by they was only two that was up an' pawin'
eround in the stew pot fer 'nother bone, lookin' kind o' unsart'tn an'
jaw weary. In a minute they wiped their hands on their ha'r an' lay
back fer rest. They was drunk with the meat, as drunk as a Chinee
a'ter a pipe o' opium. We white men stretched out with the rest on 'em
till we see they was all in the land o' nod. Then we riz an' set up a
hussle. Hones' we could 'a' killed 'em with a hammer an' done it
delib'rit. I started to pull the young Huron out o' the bunch. He
jumped up very supple. He wasn't asleep. He had knowed better than to
swaller a yard o' meat.

"Whar was the wimmen? I knowed that a part o' the band would be back
in the bush with them 'ere wimmen. I'd seed suthin' in the trail over
by the drownded lands that looked kind o' neevarious. It were like the
end o' a wooden leg with an iron ring at the bottom an' consid'able
weight on it. An Injun wouldn't have a wooden leg, least ways not one
with an iron ring at the butt. My ol' thinker had been chawin' that
cud all day an' o' a sudden it come to me that a white man were runnin'
the hull crew. That's how I had gained ground with the red scout I
took him out in the aidge o' the bush an' sez I:

"'What's yer name?'

"'Buckeye,' sez he.

"'Who's the white man that's with ye?'

"'Mike Harpe.'

"'Are the white wimmin with him?'

"'Yes.'

"'How many Injuns?'

"Two.'

"'What's yer signal o' victory?'

"'The call o' the moose.'

"'Now, Buckeye, you come with us,' I sez.

"I knowed that the white man were runnin' the hull party an' I itched
to git holt o' him. Gol ding his pictur'! He'd sent the Injuns on
ahead fer to do his dirty work. The Ohio country were full o' robber
whelps which I kind o' mistrusted he were one on 'em who had raked up
this 'ere band o' runnygades an' gone off fer plunder. We got holt o'
most o' their guns very quiet, an' I put John Irons an' two o' his boys
an' Peter Bones an' his boy Isr'el an' the two women with loaded guns
on guard over 'em. If any on 'em woke up they was to ride the
nightmare er lay still. Jack an' me an' Buckeye sneaked back up the
trail fer 'bout twenty rod with our guns, an' then I told the young
Injun to shoot off the moose call. Wall, sir, ye could