"Through thickets, tangled roots and fallen trees."
What could Coonskin have in mind, to challenge this rough mountaineer to a game of cards? He had often boasted of his skill at poker. Now he cleared the table and brought forth the cards he had carried way from Iowa, and motioning the bee-hunter to a seat, the two cut for the deal. From my seat, beside Coonskin, I discovered a little round mirror hanging on the wall behind the hunter opposite; it was the one my valet had purchased in Denver. Where he sat he could see the hunter's hand reflected in the glass. I felt if he were detected in this underhand game it would go ill with both of us; so put both revolvers in my belt, and kept mum. That was an interesting game.
"Lend me some change," said Coonskin. I threw him my bag of silver. Then he added: "Pod, you count out the matches here for chips and act as banker." So I was drawn into the game. The first few hands were very ordinary, and caused no excitement. But finally the bee-hunter, arched his eyebrows; I knew he must have a fine hand or a bluff, in store for his tenderfoot opponent. He bet heavily, but Coonskin raised the ante every time. Suddenly what had been in Coonskin's mind all the time was revealed. "Lend me fifty dollars," said he to me, and to the bee-hunter added: "I'll lay this roll of bills against the bear skin, and call you."
"I'll go ye," said the bee-hunter. When both men lay down their hands, I had taken down the mirror and hid it in my pocket.
"Beaten by four jacks! I be d——d!" the outraged mountaineer exclaimed, pounding his fist on the table and regarding his four ten-spots with grim disfavor. Coonskin grinned from ear to ear as he swept in the money. Said he, "Mac A'Rony, Cheese, Damfino and Skates—I swear by them every time. Whenever I get that hand I'm billed to win."
"So yer travelin' on them jacks," remarked the defeated partner.
"No, not exactly," Coonskin returned as he rose from his seat. "The jacks I'm traveling with are out doors; these are their tin-types."
The bee-hunter looked chagrined enough, but he took the thing as a matter of course, apparently never dreaming that he had been actually buncoed by a boy tenderfoot. Presently he rose, and shouldering his rifle, made his departure without thanking us for our hospitality. I hoped sincerely he would find his bee tree, and harvest a rich reward. I told Coonskin he was a brick. He accepted his winnings modestly, and fell to finishing the task of skinning the bear. It was a fine skin. After salting it, and wrapping it in gunnysacks, I packed our luggage while Coonskin saddled the donkeys.
Shortly after noon we reached the road that was already familiar to us, and five hours later arrived in Florisant.
It was sundown when we went into camp. I had lost three days, but I had been fully compensated by the pleasures of angling and bear-hunting.