selves a meal
from the supplies our hosts offered us.

The latter were the father and five sons of a backwoods family from the
northwest--Pine, by name. They were all tall, heavily built men, slow
moving, slow speaking, with clear, steady eyes, a drawling way of
talking, and the appearance always of keeping a mental reservation as to
those with whom they conversed. I suppose they were ignorant enough men,
as far as education goes, but they always impressed me as being somehow
a superior type. Possibly it was because of the fact that they perfectly
corresponded to their environment, which was the wilderness.

In detail, the old man was upward of sixty, his beard long and grizzled,
his hair about his shoulders. The oldest son would count about thirty,
and the others went down in stepladder fashion to the youngster, a fine,
big, smooth-faced boy of sixteen. They were named after old Pine's
favourite heroes, evidently. There was David Crockett Pine, and Governor
Boggs Pine, and President Tyler Pine, and Daniel Boone Pine, and Old
Hickory Pine, the youngest, an apparent contradiction in terms. They
were called by their odd first names--Governor, President, Old--without
the least humour.

Just now they stood tall and grim behind us as we ate; and the gray dawn
and the rose dawn grew into day. Nobody said anything until we had
finished. Then Yank rose to his full height and faced the attentive men.

"I want vengeance," he announced in an even voice, stretching forth his
long, lean arm. "Those devils have harried our stock and killed our
pardner; and I'm not going to set quiet and let them do it." He turned
to us: "Boys," said he, "I know you're with me thar. But I'm going to
git our friends yere to go with us. Old man," he said to Pine, "you and
yore sons help us with this job, and we'll locate you on the purtiest
diggings in these hills."

"You bet!" agreed McNally.

"You don't need to make my boys no offer," replied Pine slowly. "Those
divils were after our hosses too; and they'd have got them if you hadn't
come along. We'd been told by a man we believe that there wan't no
Injuns in this country, or you wouldn't have seen us sleeping es close
to our fire. Whar do you-all reckon to come up with them?"

Our old trapper interposed.

"Their rancheree is down the valley somewhars," said Bagsby, "and we'll
have to scout for it. We must go back to camp first and get a ready."

McNally and I murmured against this check to