“Well! what have you to say, old hoss?” inquired one of the hunters.
“Thet yur a set o’ fools, one and all o’ ee. I kud take the full o’ that paraira o’ hosses acrosst the ’Pash trail, ’ithout making a sign that any Injun’s a-gwine to foller, particularly an Injun on the war-beat as them is now.”
“How?” asked Seguin.
“I’ll tell yur how, cap, ev yur’ll tell me what ’ee wants to cross the trail for.”
“Why, to conceal ourselves in the Pinon range; what else?”
“An’ how are ’ee gwine to ‘cacher’ in the Peenyun ’ithout water?”
“There is a spring on the side of it, at the foot of the mountain.”
“That’s true as Scripter. I knows that; but at that very spring the Injuns ’ll cool their lappers as they go down south’ard. How are ’ee gwine to get at it with this cavayard ’ithout makin’ sign? This child don’t see that very clur.”
“You are right, Rube. We cannot touch the Pinon spring without leaving our marks too plainly; and it is the very place where the war-party may make a halt.”
“I sees no confoundered use in the hul on us crossin’ the paraira now. We kan’t hunt buffler till they’ve passed, anyways. So it’s this child’s idee that a dozen o’ us ’ll be enough to ‘cacher’ in the Peenyun, and watch for the niggurs a-goin’ south. A dozen mout do it safe enough, but not the hul cavayard.”