“I had satisfied one appetite, but another as bad, if not wusser, troubled me. That war thirst—my throat war as dry as a corn cob, and whar was the water to come from. It grew so bad at last that I thought I would die of it. I drawed the bar nearer me, and cut his juglar to see if thar war any relief from that quarter. Thar wan’t. The blood war froze up thick as liver. Not a drop would run.
“I lay coolin’ my tongue on the blade o’ my knife an’ chawin’ a bullet, that I had taken from my pouch. I managed to put in the hul of the next day this away, now and then shoutin’ as hard as I could. Towards the evenin’ I grew hungry again, and ate a cut out o’ the cheek o’ the bar; but I thought I would a-choked for want o’ water.
“I put in the night the best way I could. I had the owls again for company, and some varmint came up and smelt at the bars; but was frightened at my voice, and run away again. I suppose it war a fox or wolf, or some such thing, and but for me would a-made a meal off o’ the bar’s carcass.
“I won’t trouble you with my reflexshuns all that night; but I can assure ye they war anything but pleasant. I thought of my ole mother, who had nobody but me, and that helped to keep up my spirits. I detarmined to cut away at the bar, and hold out as long as possible.
“As soon as day broke I set up my shoutin’ again, restin’ every fifeteen minutes or so, and then takin’ afresh start. About an hour after sun-up, jest as I had finished a long spell o’ screechin’, I thought I heerd a voice. I listened a bit with my heart thumpin’ against my ribs. Thar war no sound; I yelled louder than ever, and then listened. Thar war a voice.
“‘Damn ye! what are ye hollowin’ about?’ cried the voice.
“I again shouted ‘Holloa!’
“‘Who the hell’s thar?’ inquired the voice.
“‘Casey!’ I called back, recognising the voice as that of a neighbour who lives up the crik; ‘for God’s sake this way.’
“‘I’m a-comin’,’ he replied; ‘’Taint so easy to get through hyar—that you, Redwood? What the hell’s the matter? Damn this brush!’