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I to Uncle Rivers, “I don’t believe the
boys will run much risk of being scalped
on the trip ; at any rate not more than
they do here daily riding about home
and looking after the stock. Besides,”
I continued, “ they will gain some in
formation about the country that may
be of service to them hereafter.”
“ That is all true enough, Jack,” said
my uncle, “ and as I have told you be
fore, I will not oppose their going on
the expedition, if they can get their
mother’s consent to it, and prevail on
Uncle Seth to go along with them:
that, as the diplomatists say, is my ulti
matum.
“I can furnish you a good out-fit,”
continued Uncle Rivers, “in the way
of provisions, camp equipage, and pack
mules, and will let you have Cudjo,
who is a first-rate cook, and will take
all the camp drudgery off your hands.”
And saying this, he took his broad
brim hat from the peg in the entry, on
which he always hung it, and went out
to attend to the business of his farm.
The boys, Pitt and myself immedi
ately held a caucus, to discuss the best
means of setting our project on foot;
and it was finally determined that Law
rence and I should ride over to Uncle
Seth’s at once, and use our best efforts
to bring him to terms, whilst Will and
Pitt should make a dead set at Aunt
Rivers.
Lawrence and I at once proceeded to
carry out our part of the programme,
by saddling up our horses, and putting
our “shooting irons” in order—for no
one at that day ever ventured half-a
mile from home without being fully
armed and ready for any emergency.
Just as we were starting, Will said to
me, “Be sure and bring Uncle Seth
with you; for when you get back you’ll
find ma hard at work fixing up our
traps for the trip.”
An hour’s brisk ride brought us to
the little clearing that surrounded Un
cle Seth’s cabin, and dismounting at
the gate, we walked in. Luckily we
found him at home; for Uncle Seth, as
Lawrence had told me, was frequently
absent for days at a time, hunting up
his stock. The old man had evidently
seen us coming, for he started to meet
us before we had got halfway to the
house.
“Hey, boys,” said he, when we had
got within speaking distance, “You are
out airly this mornin’; what’s up now?
Ingens about down your way ?”
“No, Uncle Seth,” said Lawrence,
“ there are no Indians down our way
that I know of; but my cousin here,
Mr. Dobell, and myself have come over
to-day to see you about some particular
business —some very particular busi
ness. I hope you are in a good humor
to-day,” added Lawrence, “for we
have a favor to ask of you which you
must grant, whether you are in a good
humor or not.”
“ Well, well, boys,” said Uncle Seth,
“I’ll do the best I kin for you; but
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
come into the shanty, and we’ll talk it
over there.”
The shanty was not an imposing
looking edifice by any means, being
about twelve feet one way by ten the
other, and seemed rather scantily sup
plied with furniture three wooden
stools, a cot, and a small table com
prising the whole outfit. Nevertheless,
it answered Uncle Seth’s purpose, no
doubt, very well; at least he appeared
as well satisfied with the accommoda
tions the shanty afforded as a million
aire would have been with his magnifi
cent brown stone front on Broadway.
“Draw a stool, boys,” said he, as
we entered his abode, “ and tell us
what’s up now. I know there’s a
scheme on hand of some sort, and that
you want your Uncle Seth to help you
out with it.”
“You are right, Uncle Seth,” said
Lawrence, “we have a scheme on
hand, which we have set our hearts
upon; and we can’t carry it out at all
without your assistance.”
Lawrence then proceeded to tell him
of the contemplated expedition to the
unexplored regions about the head
waters of the Llano and the San Saba,
expatiating largely upon the beautiful
watercourses, and rich valleys, and the
abundance of game of all kinds we
would undoubtedly find on the route;
and winding up his harangue by telling
Uncle Seth that his pa had agreed to
let us go, provided he would take
charge of the expedition.
“For you know, Uncle Seth,” said
Lawrence, with a little well-timed blar
ney, “Pa has more confidence in your
knowledge of the woods and the ways
of the Indians, than in that of any one
else in the settlement.”
When Lawrence had got through
with his speech, Uncle Seth drew a
plug of tobacco from the pocket of his
hunting shirt, cut off a quid about the
size of a turkey’s gizzard, put it in his
mouth, and began chewing upon it
vigorously, every now and then stop
ping a moment to spit at a knot hole in
the puncheon floor, which he invariably
hit. At length, he said:
“Boys, I should like to go with you
on this scout mightily", for we would
have a first-rate time of it, there aint
no doubt about that. I have never
been further up that way than the head
of the Frio, and I just saw enough of
the country to make me want to see
more. Splendid country" ; and the
bears, and deer, and turkeys are as
thick as the hairs ou a dog’s back; and
every ‘ doted’ oak you come across is a
‘ bee tree’ filled with honey. But you
see, boys,” continued Uncle Seth,
taking aim again at the knot hole, and
knocking out the centre, “ the Ingens
are purty thick too up in them ‘ dig
gins,’ and I don’t adzactly like to
shoulder the ’sponsibility of bringing
you all back safe with the har still
growing on the top of your heads. In
gens, you know, are powerful fond of
sculps, and they’ll run a heap of risk
sometimes to git one. I should feel
mity bad if some of you was to git your
har lifted before we got back. Your pa
wouldn’t have much confidence in your
Uncle Seth then, I reckon.
“ Ilowsomedever,” he went on, ta
king another deliberate shot at the
knothole, “I know you boys are bent
on goin’, and I don’t want to disap
p’int you; so if you’ll promise me to
do jist as I tell you —travel when I say
‘go,’ camp when I say ‘camp,’ run
when I say * cut dirt,’ and fight like
wild cats when I give the word —why
I suppose I shall have to go.”
We assured him that he should have
control of everything while we were
out, and that we would be guided by
his advice entirely.
“And how many on us will there
be?” asked Uncle Seth.
“ There's my cousin Jack, here, and
myself,” said Lawrence, “that’s two;
his friend Mr. Pitt and brother Harry,
that’s four; and brother Will and your
self makes six—for we won’t count
Cudjo in, as he goes along to cook and
take care of the camp, and wouldn’t be
much in a fight, I reckon, anyhow.”
“Then there’ll be seven on us, alto
gether,” said Uncle Seth.
“ How so?” asked Lawrence.
“Why, you see,” said the old man,
“I’ll count for two; and I aint brag
ging at all when I say so ; for you see,
boys, jl aint one of the bragging sort;
but a man -that’s a good trailer and
woodsman, and is up to all the dodges
and deviltries of the Ingens, is equal to
two that hasn’t learnt the ways of the
woods and of the sneaking varmints in
’em that are always on the watch out
for sculps.
‘‘Seven men’s aplenty,” he continued,
“with seven men well heeled, and of
the sort it will do to ‘ tie to,’ I wouldn’t
be afeared to go from here to the
Rocky Mountains. And when do you
perpose making a start?” he asked,
evidently as anxious to be off* on the
trip as we were.
“Just as soon as we can get every
thing ready,” said Lawrence. “We’ll
look for you over to-morrow, for we
want you to help us to fix up, particu
larly the rigging for the pack-mule,
which none of us know much about.
We'll look for you, certain,” said Law
rence, getting up to leave.
“I’ll be on hand,” said Uncle Seth,
“ you may depend ; but hold on a min
ute, you must take a bite to eat before
you go. I have just tuck a ‘ bee tree,’
and I ‘ upped ’ a buck yesterday, that
cut an inch of solid fat on his ribs.”
“I thank you, Uncle Seth,” said
Lawrence, “but we are not at all hun
gry, and”
“If I’m to have command of this
here scout,” said Uncle Seth, cutting
him short, “I order you to take your
seats agin. The fust thing a feller has
to learn on the prairies is, to eat every
time he kin git a chance ; for there’s no
tellin’ how long he may have to go
arterwards without a bite to stay his
stomach. In time of peace, you know,
boys, we must prepar’ for war.”
Wishing to humor him, we resumed
our seats, and in a few minutes he
had prepared for us a pot of coffee, a
couple of juicy steaks, and a plate of
fried liomminy, to say nothing of a
pyramid of beautiful white honeycomb
piled up on a large wooden tray. We
drew our stools up to the table, at
Uncle Seth’s invitation ; and though
Lawrence had denied being at all hun
gry, the viands looked so tempting,
that he had apparently but little diffi
culty in “worrying down” a cup of
coffee, the better part of his steak, and
about a pound of honey. As for my
self, I managed to dispose of my por
tion without any very great trouble.
When we had finished, Uncle Seth
said to us, “Now, boys, you kin go
whenever you are ready. I’ve gin you
your fust lesson, and I must say you’ve
done purty well.”
Bidding the old man good-by, and
telling him to be sure and come over
early the next day, -we went out,
mounted our horses, and took the road
back home. While we w r ere yet nearly
a mile from my uncle’s place, we saw
Will on his pony coming galloping to
meet us.
“ It’s all right, cousin Jack,” said he,
as soon as he got in speaking distance,
“ Ma's give in at last; but I teii yoirpnr
was a mighty tough job to bring her
round. Mr. Pitt had to go over again
all about the bonnets and the fashions
to get her in a good humor, and I had
to promise her that after this ‘ blow
out’ I’d stick to my books like a good
boy r for a whole year. But what did
L T ncle Seth say?” asked Will, inter
rupting himself, in his eagerness to
learn how we had succeeded in our
mission.
“Oh, lie’s all right,” said I, “and
will be along to-morrow morning.”
“Then,” said Will, “’t wont be a
great while before we are ready to start.
Ma’s hard at work now on the tent Mr.
Pitt cut out for her; brother Henry’s
cleaning up the guns; and Cudjo is
baking hard bread, and parching and
grinding the coffee. Whoop I won’t
we have a glorious time of it, cousin
Jack!” said he, as he put whip to his
pony, and scampered off a-head of us
back to the house.
As Will had told us, when we got to
the house we found aunt Rivers hard at
work, sewing up the tent we were to
take along with us. The old lady had
fought hard against the “ exploring ex
pedition,” but the pressure was too
great to be resisted, and as Will said,
she had to “give in” at last.
One of the sufferers by the late
Vermont railway accident was rushing
wildly about, when someone asked if
he was hurt. “No,” he said, “but I
can’t find my umbrella.”