IN THE OLD WEST 83 



Mexican mule, of a light mouse color, with a head 

 like a deer's, and long springy legs, trotted up 

 obedient to the call, but with ears bent back and 

 curled-up nose, and tail compressed between her 

 legs. As her pack was being removed, she groaned 

 and whined like a dog as a thong or loosened strap 

 touched her ticklish body, lifting her hind quar- 

 ters in a succession of jumps or preparatory kicks, 

 and looked wicked as a panther. When nothing 

 but the fore pack-saddle remained, she had worked 

 herself into the last stage; and as the stranger 

 cast loose the girth of buffalo-hide, and was about 

 to lift the saddle and draw the crupper from the 

 tail, she drew her hind legs under her, more tightly 

 compressed her tail, and almost shrieked with rage. 



" Stand clear," he roared (knowing what was 

 coming), and raised the saddle, when out went her 

 hind legs, up went the pack into the air, and, with 

 it dangling at her heels, away she tore, kicking 

 the offending saddle as she ran. Her master, 

 however, took this as matter of course, followed 

 her and brought back the saddle, which he piled 

 on the others to windward of the fire one of the 

 trappers was kindling. Fire-making is a simple 

 process with the mountaineers. Their bullet- 

 pouches always contain a flint and steel, and sun- 

 dry pieces of "punk"* or tinder; and pulling 

 a handful of dry grass, which they screw into a 

 nest, they place the lighted punk in this, and, 



* A pithy substance found in dead trees. 



