The latter suggestion was adopted.
The skeleton was brought down; the stains of the blood were carefully rubbed from the rocks; the skull was shivered with a tomahawk, and the joints were broken in pieces. The whole mass was then flung upon the fire, and pounded down among numerous bones of the buffalo, already simmering in the cinders. An anatomist only could have detected the presence of a human skeleton.
“Now, Rube; the arrows?”
“If ’ee’ll leave that to me an’ Bill Garey, I think them two niggurs kin fix ’em so as to bamfoozle any Injuns thur is in these parts. We’ll hev to go three mile or tharabout; but we’ll git back by the time ’ee hev filled yur gourds, an’ got yur traps ready for skeetin’.”
“Very well! take the arrows.”
“Four’s gobs for us,” said Rube, taking that number from the quiver. “Keep the rest. ’Ee’ll want more wolf-meat afore we start. Thur’s not a tail o’ anythin’ else till we git clur roun’ the mountain yander. Billee! throw your ugly props over that Navagh mustang. Putty hoss too; but I wudn’t giv my old mar for a hul cavayard o’ him. Gi’s a sprig o’ the black feather.”
Here the old trapper drew one of the ostrich feathers out of the helmet of the Navajo chief, and continued—
“Boyees! take care o’ the ole mar till I kum back, an don’t let her stampede, do ’ee hear. I wants a blanket. Don’t all speak at oncest!”
“Here, Rube, here!” cried several, holding out their blankets.
“E’er a one ’ll do. We needs three: Bill’s an’ mine an’ another’n. Hyur, Billee! take these afore ye. Now ride down the ’Pash trail three hunred yards, or tharabout, an’ then pull up. Don’t take the beaten pad, but keep alongside, an’ make big tracks. Gallop!”