'For they have gone, they have escaped, they have got away, they have dodged, they have cut stick, they have vamosed the ranch.
'They have ripped it full chisel, they are off licketty-split, they have slid, they have made tracks, they have mizzled—they have absquatulated and clipped it; abiit, evasit, crupit! Hurrah for us!
'Lo, the Yankees are brought low—the nasty, mercenary, low-born, infernal mudsills are defiled, and become as a vain thing. Gloria!
'For our messengers are on the high seas; they are O. K.; they shall deliver us from the pit. Victoria!
'They will drive things chuck to the hub in slasher-gaff style; our foes shall become even as dead birds in the pit; they shall be euchred, and discounted, and we will rake down the pot.
'Come, let us take drinks, for who shall stand against us?'
CHAPTER IV.
Now it came to pass that when Uncle Samuel heard of these things, he was sorely riled; yea, his wrath was like unto a six-story stack of wolverines and wild-cats, mixed with sudden death and patent chain-lightning.
Howbeit he lost no time, and tarried not to take a long swear over the business,
But sent forth his ships: