“Take a sup o’ this,” said the other, with an air of rude kindness, at the same time holding out a small gourd, which I applied to my lips. It was aguardiente of El Paso, better known among the mountain-men as “Pass-whisky.” The immediate effect of this strong, but not bad spirit, was to strengthen my nerves, and render me abler to converse.
“I see you reccollects us, capt’n,” said Garey, apparently pleased at the recognition.
“Well, old comrades—well do I remember you.”
“We ain’t forgot you neyther. Rube an I often talked about ye. We many a time wondered what hed becomed o’ you. We heerd, of coorse, that you hed gone back to the settlements, an that you hed come into gobs o’ property, an hed to change yur name to git it—”
“Durn the name!” interrupted Rube. “I’d change mine any day for a plug o’ Jeemes River bacca; thet wud I sartint.”
“No, capt’n,” continued the young trapper, without heeding Rube’s interruption, “we hedn’t forgot you, neyther of us.”
“That we hedn’t!” added Rube emphatically: “forgot ye—forgot the young fellur as tuk ole Rube for a grizzly! He, he, he!—ho, ho, hoo! How Bill hyur did larf when I gin him the account o’ that bissnes in the cave. Bill, boy, I niver seed you larf so in all my life. Ole Rube tuk for a grizzly! He, he, he!—Ho, ho, hoo!”
And the old trapper went off into a fit of laughing that occupied nearly a minute. At the end of it, he continued:—
“Thet wur a kewrious bit o’ dodgin—wa’nt it, young fellur? You saved my ole karkidge thet time, an I ain’t a-gwine to forgit it; no, this child ain’t.”
“I think you have repaid me; you have rescued me from the bear?”