Off to one side the water kept leaping up into the air as I am told the spouting springs do in the Dacotah country. I walked that way and was soon lost in wonderment at the contemplation of a vast bronze basin filled with curious brazen beasts, half men half fishes, the like of which I had never seen. Some had horns from which they blew sparkling streams; others astride of strange sea monsters plunged about and cast up jets of water. It all made so much noise I scarcely heard a voice behind me say:
"I'll lay a golden Louis his coat is of as queer a cut as his nether garment—whatever its outlandish name maybe."
"Done," said another voice.
I gave no heed, thinking they meant not me, until a dapper little chap, all plumed and belaced, stepped in front of me with a most lordly air.
"Hey, friend, who is thy tailor?" and behind me rang out the merry laugh at such a famous jest.
I turned and there being a party of fine ladies at my back full gladly would I have retired, had not the young braggart swaggered to my front again and persisted:
"Friend, let us see the cut of thy coat."
We men of the forest accustomed to the rough ways of a camp, and looking not for insult, are slow to anger, so I only asked as politely as might be, because of the ladies:
"And wherefore?"
"Because I say so, sir," he replied, most arrogantly and stamping his foot, "cast off thy cloak that we may see."