214 BUFFALO LAND. 



stick. At any rate, he suddenly gave a new turn to 

 the conversation by asking Shamus why, when the 

 dogs pointed the witch-hazel during our quail hunt at 

 Topeka, he had affirmed that the canine race' could 

 see spirits and witches which to mortal eyes were in- 

 visible. Now, the Dobeen had been bred on an Irish 

 moor, where the whole air is woven, like a Gobelin 

 tapestry, full of dreams of the marvelous, and where 

 whenever an unusual object is noticed by moonlight, 

 the frightened peasant, instead of stopping a moment 

 to investigate the cause, rushes shivering to his hut 

 to tell of the fearful phookas he has seen. He was 

 very superstitious, and we had often been amused at 

 his evasions, when, as sometimes happened, his faith 

 conflicted with our commands. The time might be 

 near when such peculiarities would prove trouble- 

 some instead of amusing, and it was well, therefore, 

 that we should get a peep at the foundations of our 

 cook's faith, and perhaps that portion of it which re- 

 lated to our friends, the dogs, would be especially en- 

 tertaining. Moreover, we had had so much of the red 

 man that we were glad to welcome an Irish witch to 

 our first camp-fire. Dobeen's narrative was substan- 

 tially as follows, though I can not attempt to clothe it 

 in his exact language, and still less in the rich brogue 

 which yet clung to him after years of ups and downs 

 in "Ameriky." 



" Dogs can study out many things better than men 

 can," said Shamus, in his most impressive manner. 

 " Before I left old Ireland for America, I had a dash- 

 ing beast, with as much wit as any boy in the country. 

 He could poach a rabbit and steal a bird from under 



