“I’ll take care of my scalp,” said I.
Here the companion of my friend in the sombrero spoke. This one had a red handkerchief knotted about his tawny neck, and wore a corduroy waistcoat.
“Yes, son,” said he, “haven’t you heard about the Injuns in Jackson’s Hole two years ago? They stampeded th’ settlers, ran off a lot of stock, murdered an’ burned, until rounded up by the U. S. Cavalry. Reckon there be some more loose in thar now. An’ panthers! Why, boy, they’re as thick as peas in a pod. An’ dangerous, too, by gravy!”
The first speaker guffawed.
“’Tain’t nawthin’ to th’ grizzlies,” said he. “They be monstrous pestiferous. Why, they pull you from your horse they be so unafraid of men.”
I squirmed uneasily in my seat, for I saw that they knew me to be a tenderfoot.
“Boy, you’ll be eaten alive an’ scalped to boot,” continued the fellow in the sombrero. “The good Lord have mercy on your soul.”
“Amen!” echoed his companion.
And I wriggled again, for I saw that they knew me to be an Easterner, and were having fun in their own way.
At any rate, I was bound for Jackson’s Hole and would get there somehow or other in spite of horse thieves, “Injuns” and grizzly bears.