The Hunters' Feast: Conversations Around the Camp Fire. Reid Mayne
but ’twur clur enough to show me that the thing wur a varmint: what sort, I couldn’t tell. It mout be a bar, an’ it mout not; but I had my suspects it wur eyther a bar or a painter.
“I wan’t left long in doubt about the thing’s gender. The log kep makin’ circles as it drifted, an’ when the varmint kim round into a different light, I caught a glimp o’ its eyes. I knew them eyes to be no bar’s eyes: they wur painter’s eyes, an’ no mistake.
“I reckin, strengers, I felt very queery jest about then. I didn’t try to go any nearer the middle o’ the log; but instead of that, I wriggled back until I wur right plum on the eend of it, an’ could git no further.
“Thur I sot for a good long spell ’ithout movin’ hand or foot. I dasen’t make a motion, as I wur afeard it mout tempt the varmint to attackt me.
“I hed no weepun but my knife; I hed let go o’ my rifle when I slid from the mar’s back, an’ it hed gone to the bottom long since. I wan’t in any condition to stand a tussle with the painter nohow; so I ’wur determined to let him alone as long’s he ud me.
“Wal, we drifted on for a good hour, I guess, ’ithout eyther o’ us stirrin’. We sot face to face; an’ now an’ then the current ud set the log in a sort o’ up-an’-down motion, an’ then the painter an’ I kep bowin’ to each other like a pair o’ bob-sawyers. I could see all the while that the varmint’s eyes wur fixed upon mine, an’ I never tuk mine from hisn; I know’d ’twur the only way to keep him still.
“I wur jest prospectin’ what ud be the eendin’ o’ the business, when I seed we wur a-gettin’ closter to the timmer: ’twan’t more ’n two miles off, but ’twur all under water ’ceptin’ the tops o’ the trees. I wur thinkin’ that when the log shed float in among the branches, I mout slip off, an’ git my claws upon a tree, ’ithout sayin anythin’ to my travellin’ companion.
“Jest at that minnit somethin’ appeared dead ahead o’ the log. It wur like a island; but what could hev brought a island thur? Then I recollects that I hed seed a piece o’ high ground about that part o’ the parairy – a sort o’ mound that hed been made by Injuns, I s’pose. This, then, that looked like a island, wur the top o’ that mound, sure enough.
“The log wur a-driftin’ in sich a way that I seed it must pass within twenty yards o’ the mound. I detarmined then, as soon as we shed git alongside, to put out for it, an’ leave the painter to continue his voyage ’ithout me.
“When I fust sighted the island I seed somethin’ that; hed tuk for bushes. But thur wan’t no bushes on the mound – that I knowd.
“Howsomdever, when we got a leetle closter, I diskivered that the bushes wur beests. They wur deer; for I spied a pair o’ buck’s horns atween me an’ the sky. But thur wur a somethin’ still bigger than a deer. It mout be a hoss, or it mout be an Opelousa ox, but I thort it wur a hoss.
“I wur right about that, for a horse it wur, sure enough, or rayther I shed say, a mar, an’ that mar no other than my ole crittur!
“Arter partin’ company, she hed turned with the current; an’, as good luck ud hev it, hed swum in a beeline for the island, an’ thur she stood lookin’ as slick as if she hed been greased.
“The log hed by this got nigh enough, as I kalklated; an’, with as little rumpus as possible, I slipped over the eend an’ lot go my hold o’ it. I wan’t right spread in the water, afore I heerd a plump, an’ lookin’ round a bit, I seed the painter hed left the log too, an’ tuk to the water.
“At fust, I thort he wur arter me; an’ I drawed my knife with one hand, while I swum with the other. But the painter didn’t mean fight that time. He made but poor swimmin’ himself, an’ appeared glad enough to get upon dry groun’ ’ithout molestin’ me; so we swum on side by side, an’ not a word passed atween us.
“I didn’t want to make a race o’ it; so I let him pass me, rayther than that he should fall behind, an’ get among my legs.
“Of coorse, he landed fust; an’ I could hear by the stompin’ o’ hoofs, that his suddint appearance hed kicked up a jolly stampede among the critters upon the island. I could see both deer and mar dancing all over the groun’, as if Old Nick himself hed got among ’em.
“None o’ ’em, howsomdever, thort o’ takin’ to the water. They hed all hed enough o’ that, I guess.
“I kep a leetle round, so as not to land near the painter; an’ then, touchin’ bottom, I climbed quietly up on the mound. I hed hardly drawed my drippin’ carcass out o’ the water, when I heerd a loud squeal, which I knew to be the whigher o’ my ole mar; an’ jest at that minnit the critter kim runnin’ up, an’ rubbed her nose agin my shoulder. I tuk the halter in my hand, an’ sidling round a leetle, I jumped upon her back, for I still wur in fear o’ the painter; an’ the mar’s back appeared to me the safest place about, an’ that wan’t very safe, eyther.
“I now looked all round to see what new company I hed got into. The day wur jest breakin’, an’ I could distinguish a leetle better every minnit. The top o’ the mound which, wur above water wan’t over half an acre in size, an’ it wur as clur o’ timmer as any other part o’ the parairy, so that I could see every inch o’ it, an’ everythin’ on it as big as a tumble-bug.
“I reckin, strengers, that you’ll hardly believe me when I tell you the concatenation o’ varmints that wur then an’ thur caucused together. I could hardly believe my own eyes when I seed sich a gatherin’, an’ I thort I hed got aboard o’ Noah’s Ark. Thur wur – listen, strengers – fust my ole mar an’ meself, an’ I wished both o’ us anywhur else, I reckin – then thur wur the painter, yur old acquaintance – then thur wur four deer, a buck an’ three does. Then kim a catamount; an’ arter him a black bar, a’most as big as a buffalo. Then thur wur a ’coon an’ a ’possum, an’ a kupple o’ grey wolves, an’ a swamp rabbit, an’, darn the thing! a stinkin’ skunk. Perhaps the last wan’t the most dangerous varmint on the groun’, but it sartintly wur the most disagreeableest o’ the hul lot, for it smelt only as a cussed polecat kin smell.
“I’ve said, strengers, that I wur mightily tuk by surprise when I fust seed this curious clanjamfrey o’ critters; but I kin tell you I wur still more dumbfounded when I seed thur behaveyur to one another, knowin’ thur different naturs as I did. Thur wur the painter lyin’ clost up to the deer – its nat’ral prey; an’ thur wur the wolves too; an’ thur wur the catamount standin’ within three feet o’ the ’possum an’ the swamp rabbit; an’ thur wur the bar an’ the cunnin’ old ’coon; an’ thur they all wur, no more mindin’ one another than if they hed spent all thur days together in the same penn.
“’Twur the oddest sight I ever seed, an’ it remembered me o’ bit o’ Scripter my ole mother hed often read from a book called the Bible, or some sich name – about a lion that wur so tame he used to squat down beside a lamb, ’ithout layin’ a claw upon the innocent critter.
“Wal, stranger, as I’m sayin’, the hul party behaved in this very way. They all appeared down in the mouth, an’ badly skeart about the water; but for all that, I hed my fears that the painter or the bar – I wan’t afeard o’ any o’ the others – mout git over thur fright afore the flood fell; an’ thurfore I kept as quiet as any one o’ them during the hul time I wur in thur company, an’ stayin’ all the time clost by the mar. But neyther bar nor painter showed any savage sign the hul o’ the next day, nor the night that follered it.
“Strengers, it ud tire you wur I to tell you all the movements that tuk place among these critters durin’ that long day an’ night. Ne’er a one o’ ’em laid tooth or claw on the other. I wur hungry enough meself, and ud a liked to hev taken a steak from the buttocks o’ one o’ the deer, but I dasen’t do it. I wur afeard to break the peace, which mout a led to a general shindy.
“When day broke, next mornin’ arter, I seed that the flood wur afallin’; and as soon as it wur shallow enough, I led my mar quietly into the water, an’ climbin’ upon her back, tuk a silent