“That wur, perhaps, the foolichest an’ wust shot this child ever made. Hed I not fired it, the bar mout a gone off, feard o’ the blanket; but I did fire, an’ my narves bein’ excited, I made a bad shot.
“I had ta’en sight for the heart, an’ I only hit the varmint’s shoulder.
“Ov coorse, the bar bein’ now wounded, bekim savage, and cared no longer for the blanket. He roared out like a bull, tore at the place whur I hed hit him, an’ then kim on as fast as his four legs ’ud carry him.
“Things looked squally. I throwed away my emp’y gun, an’ drawed my bowie, expectin’ nothin’ else than a regular stand-up tussle wi’ the bar. I knowd it wur no use turnin’ tail now; so I braced myself up for a desp’rate fight.
“But jest as the bar hed got ’ithin ten feet o’ me, an idee suddintly kim into my head. I hed been to Santa Fé, among them yaller-hided Mexikins, whur I hed seed two or three bull-fights. I hed seed them mattydoors fling thur red cloaks over a bull’s head, jest when you’d a thort they wur a-gwine to be gored to pieces on the fierce critter’s horns.
“Jest then, I remembered thur trick; an’ afore the bar cud close on me, I grabbed the blanket, spreadin’ it out as I tuk holt.
“Strangers, that wur a blanket an’ no mistake! It wur as fine a five-point Mackinaw as ever kivered the hump-ribs o’ a nor’-west trader. I used to wear it Mexikin-fashun when it rained; an’ in coorse, for that purpose, thur wur a hole in the middle to pass the head through.
“Wal, jest as the bar sprung at me, I flopped the blanket straight in his face. I seed his snout a passin’ through the hole, but I seed no more; for I feeled the critter’s claws touchin’ me, an’ I let go.
“Now, thunk I, wur my time for a run. The blanket mout blin’ him a leetle, an’ I mout git some start.
“With this thort, I glid past the animal’s rump, an’ struck out over the parairy.