Remounting them, we again started in pursuit. The red rascals had met, however, with too warm a reception to wait for any further attention at our hands. They had cleared out, and made good their escape across the mountains.
For many days the luckless Harvey did not hear the last of his offer "to swap trees" with me. At length, I, who had refrained from cutting any of the tolerably coarse witticisms which were uttered at his expense, was obliged to remonstrate warmly with Butch' and Brighton Bill.
"Yer are right, Cap!" exclaimed the former. "But I sware, it war too good a joke."
"Wouldn't it be better to split 'im down, and splice 'is two hends?"
As Bill said this they both burst into a peal of laughter, loud enough to be called Homeric, by any but a backwoodsman. They were, however, two good fellows, for they spoke to the other Rangers, and after this, fat Tom Harvey was left in peace. How he discovered the hand, I had, in easing him off, it would be impossible to say, as I never knew. But some two days afterwards he came up to me and Harry Arnold, as we were riding along slightly in advance, and said:
"Mose! you're a darned good fellow, and I'll be blamed if I ever forget it."
"What do you mean, Tom?"
"For stopping the chin-music of them fellows. What on airth else, should I mean?"
At the same time, he jerked his thumb across his shoulder in the direction of the rest of the party, who were at some little distance in our rear, very significantly.