"'I forgive you, old boy!' panted out Tom, as he leapt back once more."—Page 119.
This time he was scarcely quick enough, as another ball passed through the flying portion of his Buckskin upper garment.
"Why don't yer hide yer fat carcass," sung out Butch' in fierce wrath. There was no more time for jesting. "If yer don't, we shall have to bury yer."
"How can I?"
As the perspiring Harvey screeched out this amidst a general chorus of laughter, he took another wild leap, which was not one bit too soon.
All this had taken place in considerably less time than I have occupied in recounting it, or I fear all would have been up with the too fat Tom. The tree which I had been fortunate enough to secure was a fairly large pine. From behind it, I had the luck of picking off an incautious red-skin, and was already sighting another, when I heard our fat companion's voice. He had (how he dared to look round, I never knew) moaned or rather barked out, in a plaintive way:
"For God's sake, Mose! swap trees with me."
The irrepressible scream of laughter with which this pathetic appeal was received by me, caused my shot to be useless. It missed the Pah-ute I was aiming at.
Temporary inability on the part of our boys, from the painfully absurd position of Harvey, to maintain a continuous fire, now induced the red-skins to show themselves more boldly. They quickly found the mistake they had made in doing so. A general although scattering volley stretched a third of them upon the earth. They then evidently changed their opinion, and once more getting under cover, rapidly scattered.
We pursued them a short way, when we were overtaken by the remainder of our party, which we had left in charge of our animals.