A ranchman gave Pod some new potatoes one day (half of which I yanked out of the tent door at night and devoured), and in reply to his habitual inquiry, "Where'll we stow 'em?" Coonskin said, "On Damfino, of course." When some canned goods were added to the list of poisons, my master was puzzled. "Strap 'em on Damfino," advised Coonskin. Pod bought some canteens. "Where'll we put these?" he asked. "Oh, hang 'em on Damfino somewhere," said the wise "Sancho." One day a large package of chromos came, and the Professor was discouraged. "How the d—l can we carry these?" he asked with bewilderment.
"Why," ejaculated the valet chuckling, "right on Damfino." Just then that silent old maid looked at the men; and I saw blood in her eye.
Picture if you can our party trailing along the banks of the Platte that bright June afternoon. A few miles away loomed the cacti-covered sand-dunes, and between them and the river stared the desert of glistening alkali, sprinkled with cacti and sage, where an occasional steer was scratching an existence—and mosquito bites. We came to a muddy irrigation ditch, where the water had leaked out. Across it was an alfalfa field, and beyond that an adobe ranch house. We donks thought the mud in the ditch was stiff; the green field looked tempting. Damfino whispered that she would make a bolt for the field, if we would follow; and we said we would. At once she shied into the ditch, and the next minute was knee-deep in quicksand, and still sinking. Cheese and I stood riveted to the trail, while the men just gaped at Damfino with open mouths. Damfino, thinking she would soon be out of sight, brayed as she never brayed before.
When Pod got his senses he yelled, "Let's pull her out!"
"What with? Every rope and strap's on Damfino," said the truthful valet, running around like a head with the chicken cut off. Coonskin tried to reach a rope and, losing his balance, put a foot in the quicksand. Then, all excited, he attempted to pull his foot out, and got them both in. The Professor tried to reach a bridle-rein to his comrade, and went sprawling across the ditch on his corduroys and whiskers, his arms elbow-deep in the mire. This put Don in a panic. Seeing his master sinking, he grabbed his boots and pulled them off. Then he fastened his teeth in Pod's trousers, and I expected to see them come off too, but s' help me Balaam! the dog only pulled off one trouser leg, when Coonskin managed to free himself by crawling over Pod's corduroy road to dry land, and saved the day! At once, with a bridle-rein, the valet roped the Professor's feet and pulled him out, after which both men fastened the reins to Damfino's pack and tied the other ends to the saddles of Cheese and myself. Then that she-ass, wet and gray as a rat, with her burden, was dragged out of the ditch into the trail. Well, that quicksand pulled all the bad nature out of her, and she went a long time before she was tempted to leave the trail again.
The men looked grateful as they wiped the brine from their faces, and Pod remarked, "That was a narrow escape for all of us. Our donkey party came within two of going ass-under, sure."
[CHAPTER XXXII.]
At Buffalo Bill's ranch
BY PYE POD.
It has come about that now, to many a Royal Society, the Creation of a World is little more mysterious than the cooking of a dumpling; concerning which last, indeed, there have been minds to whom the question, How the apples were got in, presented difficulties.—Sartor Resartus.