06 IN THE OLD WEST 



traces of any kind of game, with the exception 

 of some old buffalo-tracks, made apparently 

 months before by a band of bulls crossing the 

 mountain. 



The morning of the fourth day, La Bonte as 

 usual rose at daybreak from his blanket, and was 

 proceeding to collect wood for the fire during his 

 absence while hunting, when Killbuck called to 

 him, and in an almost inarticulate voice desired 

 him to seat himself by his side. 



" Boy," he said, " this old hoss feels like goin' 

 under, and that afore long. You're stout yet, 

 and if thar was meat handy, you'd come round 

 slick. Now, boy, I'll be under, as I said, afore 

 many hours, and if you don't raise meat you'll be 

 in the same fix. I never eat dead meat * myself, 

 and wouldn't ask no one to do it neither ; but meat 

 fair killed is meat any way; so, boy, put your 

 knife in this old nigger's lights, and help yourself. 

 It's ' poor bull,' I know, but maybe it'll do to keep 

 life in ; and along the fleece thar's meat yet, and 

 maybe my old hump-ribs has picking on 'em." 



" You're a good old hoss," answered La Bonte, 

 " but this child ain't turned nigger yet." 



Killbuck then begged his companion to leave 

 Lira to his fate, and strive himself to reach game ; 

 but this alternative La Bonte likewise generously 

 refused-, and, faintly endeavoring to cheer the sick 

 man, left him once again to look for game. He 



* Carrion. 



