Wagh! exclaimed the individual thus interrogated, with an expression of scornful disgust suddenly overspreading his features. Wolves eat em! No nor coyots neyther. A coyot wont eat skunk; an I reckn thur karkidges aint less bitterer than the meat o a skunk.
You think theres something in their flesh that the wolves dont relish something different from that of other people?
Think! Im sartin sure ot. Ive seed em die whar we killed em when the Texans made their durned foolish expedishun northart to Santa Fé. Ive seed em lyin out in the open paraira, for hul weeks at a time, till they had got dry as punk jest like them things they bring from somewhar way out tother side of the world. Durn it, I dis-remember the name o the place, an the things themselves. You know what Im trackin up, Bill Garey? We seed em last time we wur at Sant Looey in that ere queery place, whur theyd got Ingun things, an stuffed bufflers, an the like.
Mummeries? replied the person thus appealed to, another unattached member of the corps of rifle-rangers . Are that what youre arter, old Rube?
Preezackly, Bill Mumries; ay, the name war that I reccolex it. They gits the critters out o large stone buildins, shaped same as the rockly islands we seed, when we were trappin that lake out tords California.
Pyramids! exclaimed the old trappers companion, in a tone indicative of a more enlightened mind. Pyramids o Eegip! Thats where they get em so the feller sayed, as showed em to us.
Wal, wherever they gets em. I dont care a durn whur; but as I wur tellin the capten, Ive seed dead Mexikins as like them mumries as one buffler air to another. Ive seed em lie out thur on the dry paraira, an neer a coyot, nor a wolf, nor even a turkey-buzzart go near em, let alone eat o thur meat. Thats what Ive seed, and sove you, Bill Garey.
Yere right, old hoss; Ive seed what you says.
Wagh! what, then? interrogated the first speaker, what do ye konklude from thet?
Wal, drawlingly responded his younger compeer; I shed say by that thet thar meat warnt eatable, nohow.
Ah! there youd be right, Bill Garey. There aint a critter on all the paraira as will stick
a tooth into the meat o a reglar Mexikin. Coyot wont touch it; painter wont go near it; or buzzart, thatll eat the durndest gurbage as ever wur throwed out o a tent, even to the flesh o a Injun wont dig its bill into the karkidge o a yeller-belly. Ive seed it, an I knows it.
Well, I said, yielding to a belief in this curious theory not propounded to me for the first time how do you account for this predilection, or rather dégoût , on the part of the predatory animals?
Digou! replied the old trapper; if ye mean by that ere a hanger agin em, taint nothin o the sort. It be the pure stink o the anymal as keeps em off. How ked they be otherise, eatin nothin but them red peppers, an thur garlic, an thur half-rotten jirk-meat? Taint a bit strange, I reckin, that neyther wolf nor buzzartsll have anythin to do wi their karkidges. Is it, Billee?
No, replied the individual thus appealed to; not a bit, though some other sort o anymal haint been so pertikler. If their skins haint been touched, somebodys been tolerable close to em, an taken thar shirts. I calclate its been some o thar own people as have jest gone up the road.
An maybe some o ourn as well, rejoined the old trapper, with a significant leer upon his wrinkled features. Some o them dont appear to be much better than the Mexikins emselves. Lookee there, Capn!
The speaker gave a slight inclination of his head, accompanied by an equally slight wave of the hand.
I looked in the direction indicated by this double gesture; and at once comprehended the purport of his insinuation.
Story 1, Chapter XVI A Brace of Bad Fellows
A long cadaverous countenance, bedecked with a pair of hollow-glass-like eyes; a beard long as the face, hanging down over his breast, defiled with fragments of food and the ambeer of tobacco; behind which appeared a row of very large white teeth, set between lips of an unnaturally red colour; above these a long nose, broken near the middle, and obliquing outward to the sinister angle of his mouth; such was the portrait presented by the individual in question.
I did not see his face, for I was behind him; but it did not need that to enable me to identify the man. By his back, or any part of his body, I could have told that the trooper before me was Johann Laundrich, the Jew-German.
What of him ? I inquired, in an undertone, seeing that he was the individual referred to in the speech of the old trapper.
Dont ee see, Capn! them theer boots! I heern ye stopped im from takin em last night. Hes got em along wi him for all that. Thar they be!
Rubes gesture was this time more definite; and pointed to the cloak of the trooper, rolled and strapped to the cantle of his saddle.
Between the folds of the cloth, ill-adjusted as they were, I saw, protruding a few inches outward, something of a buff colour, that evidently did not belong to the garment.