kin' round my prem'ses none to speak of lately.'

'They bin roond Brother Horublower's, thick as pison, though,' said
Tyler. 'He counted on killin' 'bout a milyon on 'em yesserday--on-ly he
didn't quite come it.'

'Thought he wouldn't never fire no guns at 'em!'

'Put a couple o' barrils into 'em yesserday.'

'Why, how you talk! You don't mean it?'

'Honor bright! He got a big travers on 'em--leastwise, thought he had.
His brindle kaow, she got pizened night afore last, down there in the
woods; couldn't do nuthin with her, and she died same night. So he goes
and skins her, and throws her out into that gully down there, back o'
Bizzle's wood, and says he to me--for I was over there workin' for
him--says he, 'There'll be a power o'crows onto her t'morrer, and I
calc'late I'll fix a few on 'em--I will!' So next mornin'-that was
yesserdoy-we went out bright and airly, and rigged up a kind o' blind at
the side of the gully, right over the old carcass, Then we got our
amminishun all ready--both barrils all loadid.'

'By jing!' said the Squire, rubbing his hands, 'I wish I'd bin there.'

'Got all ready. Purty soon up comes one crow, sails round and round,
then two or three more, then a few more; they begun to smell meat. Then
they flew lower and lower; bime by one settles onto an old dead cedar
and begins cawin' for dear life. Then down he comes, then more and more
of 'em. Round they come, cawin' and flappin' their wings, clouds of 'em.
Guess there was 'bout two hundred settled onto that old kaow.'

'Wish I'd bin there with my gun!' spoke the Squire, intensely excited.
'A feller could have made the most biggest kind of a shot.'

'Wal, we waited, and waited, till the old kaow was black as pitch with
'em. Then Hornblower he nudges me. We got both barrils all ready--big
loads in 'em. 'Fire!' says he. I braced my leg up agin my barril; he
braced his leg up agin his barril--'

'W-w-what?' said the Squire.

'We give the most all-firedest shove--and over we went, barrels, stones,
dirt, and gravil, head-fo'most, spang into them crows and dead kaow! I
tell you, for about five minutes I calc'late I never seed sitch fuss,
feathers, dirt, and gravil, and kaow-beef flyin' as I did then. Things
was mixed up most promiscussedly, you can bet yer life on it! Bime by I
sort o' come to, and when I raised up I found I was sittin' onto four
dead, crushed crows, Brother Hornblower, and kaow-meat gin'rally. So I
dug out and lifted up the