The Last of the Plainsmen 



Buckskin, now only a few miles away, standing up 

 higher and darker. 



&quot;What s that for?&quot; inquired Wallace, pointing 

 to a long, rusty, wire-wrapped, double-barreled blun 

 derbuss of a shotgun, stuck in the holster of Jones s 

 saddle. 



The Colonel, who had been having a fine time with 

 the impatient and curious hounds, did not vouchsafe 

 any information on that score. But very shortly we 

 were destined to learn the use of this incongruous 

 firearm. I was riding in advance of Wallace, and a 

 little behind Jones. The dogs excepting Jude, who 

 had been kicked and lamed were ranging along 

 before their master. Suddenly, right before me, I 

 saw an immense jack-rabbit; and just then Moze and 

 Don caught sight of it. In fact, Moze bumped his 

 blunt nose into the rabbit. When it leaped into 

 scared action, Moze yelped, and Don followed suit. 

 Then they were after it in wild, clamoring pursuit. 

 Jones let out the stentorian blast, now becoming 

 familiar, and spurred after them. He reached over, 

 pulled the shotgun out of the holster and fired both 

 barrels at the jumping dogs. 



I expressed my amazement in strong language, and 

 Wallace whistled. 



Don came sneaking back with his tail between his 

 legs, and Moze, who had cowered as if stung, circled 



78 





