84: WILD SPOKTS IN THE SOUTH. 



" I walked composed-like and slow into the Injin camp > 

 and right through the ring, puttin' the painter cub all 

 rolled up in the coat down in the middle, and then goin' 

 to the fur side, set down as far off as convenient. 



" ' Injin Mike is welcome,' said a young man, who I 

 made out by his paint to be Tiger Tail's son, waivin' his 

 hand like to me, and keepin' his eye inquirin' like on my 

 coat, that was a wrigglin' about on the ground. 



" ' Injin Mike is a hunter, and he brings a hunter's 

 gift,' sez I, slow-like, and speakin' Injin ; ' he was afeerd 

 his Injin brother would be in want of some game.' 



" I knew this would rile 'em some, for Tiger Tail was 

 allers a big hunter, and he didn't like me, for I could take 

 the feather out of his hair any day. I war goin' on to 

 say more, but I didn't have time, fur jist then I heard a 

 thump in the bushes, and the she-painter cum in as ef she 

 was flyin' ; ears back, eyes like candles she was some. 

 She tuck the young chief before she landed with a sort 

 o flyin' box with her paw, and he never riz hair arter- 

 wards, for she tuck scalp and all. 



" The lousy devils rolled over like prairie dogs the 

 pot upsot, the coals flew around, the squaws yelled, the 

 dogs pitched in, and afore any one could get out his 

 knife, that painter did some tall tearin'. They rolled 

 over and over, yellin', bitin' swearin ; some got hit fur 

 the painter, fur they couldn't see whar to strike, and 

 thar was no room for shootin'. Lord, Colonel, it would 

 hur done you good to have seen that air scrimmage. I 

 got behind a tree and larfed so it hurt me, and when I 



