"Is I all alive, foh shuah, Mistah Sam?" demanded Ike, as he stared wildly about him.
"Of course you are, and here is the meat you have been so eager for," said Sam.
"Wa'll, Mistah Sam, it's dat ar gun," said Ike, gazing sadly at the old weapon which he still held in his arms. "I ain't used her bad; ain't fired her off for more'n six months afore we kem out har from Michigan—dat's five months ago—an' now only to tink she's done gone back on me in dat are way."
The Indian youth, Ulna, had come down by this time, and when he took in the situation his fine, almost effeminate face was wreathed in smiles, that displayed a beautiful set of white teeth.
In a low, musical voice and without any accent, he said in excellent English:
"The sun is setting and we must hurry if we would reach the camp before dark."
"An' more partikler ez we've got to tote dis ar venizon home," said Ike, now wide awake to the necessities of the situation.
Each of the youths had a hunting knife in his belt, and they soon proved that these weapons were not carried for ornament.
With a rapidity and skill that would have won the admiration of an eastern butcher, they skinned and cleaned the animal, severed the mammoth head and then divided the meat into three parcels.
Each had to shoulder about fifty pounds, but being sturdy, healthy young fellows they did not seem to mind their burdens, as they started off with long, vigorous strides toward the west.