6 LIFE IN THE FAR WEST 



of more than one Apach, and made a Eapaho ' come' afore 

 now; I've trapped in heav'n, in airth, and h ; and scalp 

 my old head, marm, but I've seen a putrefied forest.' 



" ' La, Mister Harris, a what V 



" ' A putrefied forest, marm, as sure as my rifle's got 

 hind-sights, and she shoots center. I was out on the 

 Black Hills, Bill Sublette knows the time the year it 

 rained fire and everybody knows when that was. If 

 thar wasn't cold doins about that time, this child 

 wouldn't say so. The snow was about fifty foot deep, 

 and the bufler lay dead on the ground like bees after a 

 beein' ; not whar we was tho', for thar was no bufler, 

 and no meat, and me and my band had been livin' on 

 our mocassins (leastwise the parflesh*) for six weeks ; 

 and poor doins that feedin' is, marm, as you'll never 

 know. One day we crossed a ' canon' and over a 

 < divide,' and got into a peraira, whar was green grass, 

 and green trees, and green leaves on the trees, and 

 birds singing in the green leaves, and this in Febrary, 

 wagh ! Our animals was like to die when they see 

 the green grass, and we all sung out, ' hurraw for 

 summer doins.' 



" ' Hyar goes for meat,' says I, and I jest ups old 

 Ginger at one of them singing birds, and down come 

 the crittur elegant; its darned head spinning away from 

 the body, but never stops singing, and when I takes up 

 the meat, I finds it stone, wagh ! ' Hyar's damp 

 powder and no fire to dry it,' I says, quite skeared. 



* Soles made of buffalo hide. 



