184 . ENCOUNTER WITH A BUFFALO. 



Jake approached the water and peered keenly into 

 its crystal depths in search of the beaver whose dying 

 struggles they had witnessed from the tree. 



" Git me a long saplin', one o' yer," he presently said. 

 " I've spotted the varmint, an' I guess a slice o' his tail 

 will do this coon no harm." 



Gaultier ran to do the old hunter's bidding, and 

 between them they soon brought the drowned animal 

 to land, the trap still fast on one of its hind legs. 



"Fustrate dog!" said Jake; "pelt's in purty fair 

 order, considering the time o' year. Wough ! wough ! 

 my beauty," he continued, " I'm a-gwine to go fur yer 

 tail, / am;" and having separated that member, he 

 proceeded, much to his own satisfaction, to broil it over 

 the coals. 



The odour, which to the old hunter's nostrils was 

 appetizing, soon restored his good humour ; and under 

 the benign influence of fat tail he seemed to forget the 

 recent unpleasant episode. Pierre and Gaultier both 

 joined the veteran in his repast, and the rich mess 

 speedily disappeared before their forest appetites. 



" Boyees," said Jake, " did I ever tell yer o' my fust 

 tussle wi' a buffler ? " 



The youths replied in the negative. 



" Wai, 'twur more'n forty yeern agone, an' this coon 

 wurn't o' much account then wi' a rifle, I reckin, seem' 

 as I wur so young. 'Twur the fust time I'd ever sot 

 eyes on a buffler, an' so yer may guess I wur green 

 enough fur a jackass to graze on. I think I rec'lects 



