McNeil crossed his legs, and wiped his damp forehead with the back of
his hand. "Hoof of a damn pack-mule," he explained, forgetting
himself. "The--eh--cuss lifted me ten feet."
Moffat laughed hoarsely, but as the foreman straightened up quickly,
the amazed girl joined happily in, and his own face instantly exhibited
the contagion.
"Ain't much--eh--ever happens out on a ranch," he said, doubtfully,
"except dodgin' steers, and--eh--bustin' broncoes."
"Your blame mule story," broke in Moffat, who had at last discovered
his inspiration, "reminds me of a curious little incident occurring
last year just across the divide. I don't recall ever telling it
before, but it may interest you, Miss Spencer, as illustrative of one
phase of life in this country. A party of us were out after bear, and
one night when I chanced to be left all alone in camp, I did n't dare
fall asleep and leave everything unguarded, as the Indians were all
around as thick as leaves on a tree. So I decided to sit up in front
of the tent on watch. Along about midnight, I suppose, I dropped off
into a doze, for the first thing I heard was the hee-haw of a mule
right in my ear. It sounded like a clap of thunder, and I jumped up,
coming slap-bang against the brute's nose so blamed hard it knocked me
flat; and then, when I fairly got my eyes open, I saw five Sioux
Indians creeping along through the moonlight, heading right toward our
pony herd. I tell you things looked mighty skittish for me just then,
but what do you suppose I did with 'em?"
"Eh--eat 'em, likely," suggested McNeil, thoughtfully, "fried with
plenty of--eh--salt; heard they were--eh--good that way."
Mr. Moffat half rose to his feet.
"You damn--"
"O Mr. McNeil, how perfectly ridiculous!" chimed in Miss Spencer.
"Please do go on, Mr. Moffat; it is so exceedingly interesting."
The incensed narrator sank reluctantly back into his seat, his eyes yet
glowing angrily. "Well, I crept carefully along a little gully until I
got where them Indians were just exactly opposite me in a direct line.
I had an awful heavy gun, carrying a slug of lead near as big as your
fist. Had it fixed up specially fer grizzlies. The fellow creepin'
along next me was a tremendous big buck; he looked like a plum giant in
that moonlight, and I 'd just succeeded in drawin' a bead on him when a
draught of air from up the gully strikin' across the back of my neck
made me sneeze, and that buck turned round and saw me. You wouldn't
hardly believe what happened."