“Naw!” said Injun Bill, contemptuously. “Dat ain’t no nigger tale. My daddy tell dat tale, an’ he wa’nt no nigger. I wish I could tell it like I near him tell it.”
“How did it go?” asked Mr. Wimberly.
“Well,” said Injun Bill, rolling his eyes to-ward the rafters, “it sorter run dis way, nigh ez I kin reckermember: De time wuz when Mr. Beaver wuz de boss er all de creeturs. He wa’nt de biggest ner de strongest, but he wuz mighty smart. Fine cloze make fine folks in dem days, an’ dat what Mr. Beaver had. Eve’ybody know him by his fine overcoat. He look slick all de week, an’ he mighty perlite—he ain’t never fergit his manners. Mr. Rabbit see all dis an’ it make ’im feel jealous. He dunner how come Mr. Beaver kin be sech a big man, an’ he study how he gwine make hisse’f populous wid de yuther creeturs.
“One time dey all make it up dat dey wuz gwine ter have a big meetin’, an’ so dey ’gun ter fix up. De word went ’roun’ an’ all de creeturs make ready ter come. Mr. Beaver he live up in de mountains, an’ it wuz lots mo’ dan a day’s journey fum his house ter de place whar de creeturs gwine ter hoi’ der big meetin’. But he waz bleedze ter be dar, kaze he de head man. Ole Mr. Rabbit ’low ter hisse’f dat sumpin’ got ter be done, an’ dat mighty quick, an’ so he put out fer Mr. Beaver house. Mr. Rabbit sho is a soon mover, mon, an’ he git dar in little er no time. He say dey all so ’fraid Mr. Beaver ain’t comin’ ter de meetin’ dat dey sont ’im atter ’im, an’ he help Mr. Beaver pack his kyarpet-bag, an’ went on back wid ’im fer comp’ny.
“Mr. Beaver can’t git ’long ez peart ez Mr. Rabbit, kaze he so fat an’ chunky, yit he don’t lose no time; he des keep gwine fum sunup ter sundown. Des ’fo’ dark dey come ter whar dey wuz a river, an’ Mr. Rabbit, he ’low dey better camp out on de bank, an’ git soon start in de mornin’. So dey built up a fier, an’ cook der supper, an’ ’bout de time dey wuz gittin’ ready ter go ter bed Mr. Rabbit ’low:
“‘Brer Beaver, I mighty feared we gwine ter have trouble dis night!’ Mr. Beaver say, ‘How comes so, Brer Rabbit?’
“Mr. Rabbit ’low: ‘Dis country what we er in is called Rainin’ Hot Embers, an’ I don’t like no sech name. Dat de reason I wanter stop close ter water.’
“Mr. Beaver ax, ‘What de name er goodness we gwine do, Brer Rabbit?’
“Mr. Rabbit sorter scratch his head an’ say, ‘Oh, we des got ter put up wid it, an’ do de bes’ we kin.’ Den he sorter study, an’ ’low: ’I speck you better pull off dat fine overcoat er yourn, Brer Beaver, an’ hang it up in de tree dar, kaze ef de wuss come ter de wuss, you sholy want ter save dat.’
“Den Mr. Beaver tuck off his overcoat an’ hang it up in de tree, an’ atter while dey lay down fer ter take a nap. Mr. Rabbit he stay wake, but twa’nt long ’fo’ Mr. Beaver wuz done gone ter sleep an’ snorin’ right along. He sno’ so loud dat Mr. Rabbit laugh ter hisse’f, an’ ’low: ‘Hey! Ole Brer Beaver pumpin’ thunder fer dry wedder, but we gwine ter have some rain, an’ it’ll be a mighty hot rain, mon.’