Indian and Scout: A Tale of the Gold Rush to California

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER X

  A Buffalo Hunt

  "Them's buffalo without a shadow o' doubt," said Steve, one afternoon,six weeks after the little party had set out on their long journey toCalifornia. "Ef yer shade yer eyes and look close yer can see a darkline that ain't never still. Them's buffalo."

  The little hunter spoke with an assurance born of long experience, andsat his horse with one hand above his eyes, and the brim of his hatpulled low. Jack followed suit; but though he could distinguish the darkline away on the plain, he could make nothing more of it.

  "There is a line, right enough, Steve," he admitted, "and as you sayit's buffalo I'm bound to believe you; but I can't see a single animal."

  "No more yer would ef yer was to stare for half a day," came the answer,"'cos they're packed as tight as herrings in a barrel. But the cloudabove the line tells a hunter the right tale. That aer dust, and thembeasts is moving pretty rapid. How'd yer like ter try a shot at 'em?"

  Jack was all eagerness at once, for he had been practising diligentlywith his weapons during the days which had passed, and wished now toshow of what he was capable. Indeed, the injury to his shoulder had ina measure been for his good; for in place of mounting a rough horseimmediately on joining the party, and thereby risking perhaps a heavyfall, he had been obliged to take a mount which was known to be quietand well trained. And from the back of this animal he had been able touse his weapons without fear of a sudden movement which would haveunseated him.

  "I'd much rather have taken my chances like any other newcomer," he hadsaid to Tom one day, as they jogged along; "but I'm bound to admit thatthis steady practice in the saddle, and using my rifle and revolver,have done much for me."

  "Yer bet," was the answer. "Thar's a sight of green 'uns comes out thisway, and thinks they're goin' to show the boys right off how to ride.Wall, that leads to falls in general, sometimes to broken necks. Tharare some, I 'low, as comes through fine, and shows heaps of grit. Butothers weakens, while not a few gets broken up, legs or arms smashed, orsomethin' of that sort. From what I knows of yer, young 'un, it'snatural yer'd ha' liked to show yer grit like those others. But thatshoulder aren't to be played with. Yer've got ter take it easy, and takecare not to risk a fall. But yer've got one big advantage."

  "And what is that?" asked Jack, wondering.

  "I'll tell yer. Most every man larns to shoot when on his legs. Thereain't nothin' to prevent yer doin' the same. But with that quiet horseyer kin set to with the guns on the trace, and there ain't nothin' likethe man as can shoot as quick and as straight when on a movin' horse.'Sides, you can practise both hands. 'Twon't hurt the shoulder."

  And so, thanks to constant practice, Jack was now by no means a dufferwith rifle and revolver, while he could shoot with the latter equallywell with either hand.

  "Them buffalo are making east," said Steve, as he watched the distantline, "and sense the wind's from that quarter thar ain't nothin' toprevent us comin' up behind 'em. Mind yer, none but a downright foolwould ever attempt to head 'em, 'cos thar ain't no stoppin' buffalo onthe move. Ef you was to build a wall in front of 'em, they'd push itover. Thar's thousands as a rule in the herds, and them as is in theback lines don't know what's happenin' away in front. And so they goeson pushin' and shovin', and squeezin' the ones up in the front, tillthey're bound ter move forward. Hundreds and hundreds of the beasts havebeen known ter go head over ears over a cliff before their mates behindgot to reckon what was happenin'. Guess we'll cut dead across. That'llbring us near level with the last of the herd, and then it'll be a poorday ef we don't manage to cut one of 'em out."

  Slinging his rifle at Steve's bidding, Jack shook up his horse, a morespirited one now than the animal he had at first ridden, and canteredalong beside the huntsman.

  "A gun aer no use fer this job," sang out Steve. "Thar ain't no fetchin'a buffalo down unless he's hit heavy, and to do that yer've got ter ridein close. The Injuns kill 'em with arrows, and I've seen their huntersride up behind a herd and stand on the back of the beast they've chosen.Then, with an arrow drawn to the head, the chances are it'll go cleanthrough the buffalo's heart. A shooter are the weapon for 'em, and whenyer fire, aim just behind the shoulder."

  A sharp canter took them rapidly closer to the herd, and very soon thedark line resolved itself into a mass of moving beasts, over whom hung acloud of yellow dust. Steve turned his horse a little, and cantered ontill the tail of the herd was passing.

  "Now's the time," he sang out. "Keep along beside me till we're wellbehind 'em. Then ride forward till ye're almost in the crowd. That'llallow yer to select a beast and shoot him. Don't fire at more than one.Guess two beasts altogether will keep us in food fer a month. And jestone more warnin'. Keep clear of their horns. They're the ugliest thingsfer diggin' I ever hit across."

  Gripping his reins firmly in his left hand, Jack followed Steve untilthey were right behind the centre of the herd. The beasts seemed to havescented their enemies; for the pace of those behind increased of asudden, while those in front, pressed on in spite of themselves, soonbroke into a fast gallop, which taxed the fleetness of the horses.Watching the mass of struggling beasts, our hero soon picked out a hugeanimal, floundering along in rear, and when Steve shouted, he turned hishorse and rode him up beside the buffalo he had selected. And it seemedat once as if the beast realized his intentions, for it increased itspace, and, shouldering its way amongst its fellows, soon placed a coupleof rows of buffalo between it and Jack.

  "I've chosen him, and I'm going to bag him, whatever happens," thoughtour hero, as he raced along. "I'll follow in after the beast."

  Pressing his horse with both knees, and urging him forward with voiceand spur, he managed to wedge himself in the last line of movingbuffalo. Another effort and he passed right through it, and was almostwithin shot of the animal he wanted. Then he heard a sharp report on hisright, followed by a shout, and, turning, saw Steve riding hard towardshim.

  "Yer've got to be careful in thar," shouted the hunter. "Mind theirhorns, and jest see that when he falls the others don't come tumbling onter yer. Now, let him have it."

  Steve was within a few feet of Jack now, for the hunter felt anxious forthe safety of his young friend.

  "I never seed a new 'un with more grit," he was saying to himself. "Themost of 'em would be content to ride up behind, and fire from a littledistance. But Carrots ain't like that. I've noticed he's a way of doin'a thing proper or not at all. He's bound on making a point-blank shot."

  That, in fact, was Jack's intention, and, careless of the tossing headsabout him, of the horns turning this way and that, and of the angrybellows, he pressed his horse still more forward, till he was right upagainst the beast he had selected. And there, jammed in the press, andgoing hard all the while, our hero stood up in his stirrups, watched forthe right moment, and fired his weapon, aiming just behind the movingshoulder.

  "Pull out!" shouted Steve, "Pull out or they'll carry yer along."

  To retire from the position he had taken up was not an easy task, asJack soon found; for behind him a solid wall of buffalo swung along,while the animal he had fired at still galloped forward as if it hadreceived no wound. It seemed, indeed, as if our hero had failed. But hewas not the lad to give in easily. Food was wanted for the camp, andthis was the very first opportunity he had had of showing his prowess.Once more he spurred up beside the beast and sent a second bulletcrashing into his body. And then there was a sudden change in thesituation. The buffalo dropped like a log, while the animal immediatelybehind tripped, fell on his nose, and in doing so knocked the legs ofJack's mount from under him. In an instant there was a scene of direconfusion. Jack went flying far ahead, over the ears of his horse, whileSteve, who was riding just behind him by then, came a terrible cropper.Clouds of dust were thrown into the air, and dimly seen through it werestruggling beasts, feet lashing here and there, and frightened eyes.Never had Jack heard such a bellowing. It seemed as if all the buffaloin that country were round him, and then, as suddenly, the
y were gone.The beasts who had fallen got to their feet and charged madly by him,leaving him alone with the one he had shot, stretched just a foot awayfrom it, while farther behind was his horse, looking at him, as if thepoor beast still wondered what had happened. As for Steve, he lay verystill, one boot remaining in his stirrup, while his well-trained beaststood close beside him, grazing, as if buffalo had never existed, and asif such a thing as a catastrophe had never occurred.

  Jack clambered to his feet and ran to Steve, to find him conscious, andlying with eyes wide open.

  "Jest lift my foot out of the stirrup," he said cheerfully, but in avoice little above a whisper. "We was goin' fast, I guess? and I wasn'tlookin' for a fall. Reckon my back's badly shook, 'cos I ain't got nopower over my legs. Pain? No. I ain't any, but it's queer fer me to belying here unable ter move."

  Jack gently disengaged his foot from the stirrup, and made his friendcomfortable. Then he turned to look about him, and at once anexclamation escaped him.

  "Look!" he cried. "They're returning. Something seems to have caused theherd to swing round, and they're chargin' back this way."

  A flush came to the hunter's face as he heard the news, and with anobvious effort he managed to turn his head. Then he called to Jack, andspoke quietly.

  "Yer'd best be going," he said earnestly. "That mob's less than half amile away, and ef they're coming along as they was a few minutes ago,they'll be here afore yer can look round. Ef they find yer still on thisspot yer best friend won't know yer when they're gone. Best git, slippy.So long!"

  "And you?" asked Jack, casting another glance towards the herd, which,for some unexplained reason had undoubtedly turned, and was chargingback over the ground it had so recently covered. "And what about you,Steve?" he asked. "Would your best friend be able to recognize you anybetter than mine would be?"

  "Shucks! Ye're talkin', and wastin' valuable time," growled Steve. "Yerkin see it's a case with me. I'm done fer, and I don't mind if no onecan recognize me. Ye git, and precious slippy. Yer ain't got too muchtime ter clear even now."

  "And desert you, the man who has been so friendly to me," said Jack."Never! I'll do my best to carry him off. Can you hold anything, Steve?"he asked, kneeling beside the helpless hunter.

  "Yer bet. Give us yer hand. Thar. So long!"

  Steve gripped Jack's hand firmly, and then thrust him away. "Didn't Itell yer to be goin'?" he cried angrily. "The chances aer ye'll not doit even now. Them beasts is coming quicker'n yer kin gallop. Aer yer afool?"

  "Get a hold round my neck," cried Jack, bending lower over him."Quickly! You're only wasting my time and yours by hesitating. There!Grip hard. I'm going to get into my saddle."

  "Yer ain't! Git as quick as yer kin, and leave me to it. Ain't I warnedyer? Jest quit foolin'?"

  Steve blazed out at Jack as the latter again bent over him, and with anemphatic shake of his head refused to do as our hero suggested. For thelittle scout knew what he was talking about. Already it was doubtfulwhether either of them could escape that rushing herd, even if wellmounted. But if he in his unselfishness was determined not to ruinJack's chances of escape, the latter was equally determined not to leaveSteve to be trampled into the dust by the charging buffalo. He couldnever face his other friends if he returned with such a tale ofcowardice, and in spite of Steve's obstinacy he made up his mind thereand then that he would save him, or stand and face the beasts by hisside.

  "Quit foolin' and git off!" shouted Steve again. "Yer ain't got a momentto lose."

  "And you won't take a grip of my neck and let me lift you?" asked Jack.

  "I won't. I ain't goin' ter spoil the chances of one fer the sake ofsavin' myself. Git, and have done with the talkin'."

  "Then you've yourself to thank. I'll do as I know to be proper."

  Jack stooped once more over the little hunter, and with one big heavethrew him over his shoulder. Then he hurried with him to his horse,placed the injured man in front of the saddle, and with a bound was upbehind him. Leaving Steve's mount to follow as it liked, he dug hisspurs into his own beast and sent it galloping forward. Then began adesperate race, for already the herd was within a hundred yards,sweeping along over the plain in one dense mass, which stretched for aquarter of a mile on either side. Indeed, it might have been more; forin those days, before railways had come, and the march of civilizationhad driven the animals away, herds of twenty and more thousand buffalowere often to be encountered. Whatever its proportions, this particularherd came thundering along, a dense mass of dust flying in the air aboveit, while the earth beneath trembled with the thud of so many hoofs. Itwas as much as a horse could do to keep in front of the maddenedanimals, and very soon Jack found his own mount flagging.

  "We're bound to go down before them if I can't find my way to one side,"he thought. "Let me see how much ahead of them I am."

  Gripping Steve firmly, so that he could not be shaken off, and digginghis knees into his mount, Jack swung his head round and looked behindhim. There was a sea of tossing manes, of flashing eyes and terriblehorns, within twenty yards, and the thunder the animals made would havedrowned the ordinary voice. And on either side the line stretched tillit seemed to be interminable. Then Jack looked ahead, and, seeing sometrees growing on a rising knoll away on the right, he swung his horse inthat direction, and applied his spurs again, calling upon the nobleanimal to make one last effort. As for Steve, our hero could feel himwriggling, and even heard his voice as he endeavoured to expostulatewith his saviour. But the words came jerkily. The movement of the horseshook the breath out of the little hunter's body.

  "We'll do it! Stick to the game!" shouted Jack, stretching out one handto pat his horse's neck. "Now, a little more, and we shall be there."

  But safety was not yet accomplished, and for some minutes it seemed asif both he and Steve must go down before the mob and be trampled todeath, when of a sudden there was another movement amongst the herd.Imperceptibly at first, and then with a swing, the leaders faced awayfrom the rising knoll for which Jack had been aiming, and, pressingtheir fellows on the left farther to that side, galloped off on a lineat a tangent to that which had previously been followed. This unforeseenmovement at once gave the fugitives an advantage, for those beastsdirectly behind them and farther to the right were placed even fartherbehind.

  "Forward!" shouted Jack, applying his spurs again. "We've just a chancestill."

  But it proved, before the matter was ended, to be a close escape forboth of them, for before the right-hand margin of the herd was reachedmany of the animals were thundering along immediately in rear, while onthe very outskirts of the crowd some of the buffalo had actually passedahead of Jack. He watched his opportunity and then suddenly swung hishorse well to one side, pulling him in a minute later amongst the treesfor which he had been aiming. And there, as he dismounted and liftedSteve to the ground, he watched as the whole herd rushed past him,watched for five minutes as the thunder of their hoofs drummed on hisear. Then he sat down to rest and wipe his forehead.

  "That aer the nearest thing yer'll ever have, nor me either," said Stevesuddenly, when the noise had died down. "Jack, jest pull in that critterand place him well behind the bushes. There ain't a chance of our bein'seen, for ye've chose a proper little hollow, and no one could easilysee us from outside on the plain. Gee! That war a near thing, and Iain't so sure that there ain't more to follow."

  Despite his helplessness the little scout managed to prop himself upagainst a tree, and lay there staring out into the plain, while Jackfollowed out his instructions. Taking the horse, he led him amidst thetrees to a spot where a dense mass of bushes grew, and left him there toblow and regain his wind. As for Steve's mount, he had fled for thosetrees at the very first, and, being unencumbered by a rider, had reachedthem well in advance. Jack slipped his reins over the fork of a tree andreturned to Steve.

  "I war sayin' we was mighty lucky," exclaimed the scout, "and I waradvisin' yer to keep well down and hide the horses. Do yer know thereason?"

 
Jack shook his head. He was beginning to wonder if the fall had in somemanner upset Steve's reason as well as damaging his back.

  "Wall, I'll tell yer. What sent them varmints back on their trail soonexpectedly?" he asked. "Yer don't know, and can't guess. But I had anotion from the very fust, and I reckoned that ef we got clear of theherd we'd have somethin' else to face. It was Injuns, Jack. Buffalodon't face about fer nothin'. I've seen twenty and more hunters tryingto turn a pack of 'em smaller than this here by a heap. They've firedtheir revolvers into the face of the herd, and shouted, and rid across.But it ain't done nothin'. The beasts has come along solid all the same.But when thar's a hundred painted Injun varmints a-shriekin' in frontand shootin' their arrows, why, even buffalo'll turn then."

  "But----" exclaimed Jack, his eyes wide open with amazement.

  "Yer didn't see any of 'em," cried Steve. "No more yer did, nor meneither at first. The dust covered everything. But jest you look thar."

  He pointed after the herd, and, following that direction, Jack's eyesfell upon a number of horsemen who must have swept by the spot where heand Steve lay, directly in wake of the buffalo.

  "Indians!" he cried in amazement.

  "Them's the red-skinned varmints, and a fine time they'll give us ef wedrop into their hands. Aer yer sure ye've hid up them hosses?"

  "Certain. I couldn't make out what you meant by giving such directions,and began to wonder whether you were all right in your head. But I hidthe horses right enough. No one would see them from outside."

  "Then we're right fer the moment," said Steve, "but it'll be only ferthe moment. Them varmint'll see the beasts we killed, and'll know in aminute as white men ha' done it, 'cos they're shot with bullets. That'lltell 'em we were behind the herd before it turned. They'll be properbothered after that, 'cos there ain't a trace left now to follow. Everymark has been stamped out of the ground. But that won't beat 'em.They'll send out parties to ride round till they strike our tracks, anda glance'll tell 'em whether we were goin' or comin'. Wall, they'll see,in course, that we ain't rid away. Then they'll set to ter find us. Andas far as I can see thar ain't another likely spot, barrin' thesetrees."

  The outlook did indeed appear to be anything but rosy; for, as Jackkneeled amidst the trees beside his injured friend and looked out intothe plain, he could distinguish fully fifty Indians, all mounted, andslowly returning from following the buffalo. Had he but known the menwere part of a tribe which had camped three miles away in a hollow whichhid them completely, and, having ridden from a direction the opposite ofthat from which Jack and his friends were making, neither party had seenthe other. It was the maddened herd of buffalo which had first disturbedthe Indians, and, finding it probable that they would charge rightacross their own camping-ground, they had turned out in force, and bydint of much shouting had contrived to stem the rush, and in the end tocause the whole herd to face about. And up to now they were stillignorant of the presence of white people. A minute later, however,there was a shout out on the plain, and a batch of the Indians gallopedacross to the buffalo which Jack had shot.

  "In course they seed it. I knew they would," growled Steve. "It ain'tlikely that an Injun could miss a beast like that. And ain't they jesttalkin'! Guess they'll know in less than a minute that they ain't theonly people hereabouts, and that thar's scalps within distance that'sworth the taking."

  At any other time Jack could have watched with interest as the Indiansgathered round the fallen buffalo and inspected the carcass. For theirmovements were picturesque, to say the least of it. But he had heardenough already to prove to him that these bands still roving the plainswere just as implacable enemies of the white men as their fathers hadever been, while he knew it to be a fact that scores of unhappy peoplemaking across the plains for California had been ruthlessly slaughteredby the red man. If he had any doubt of the Indians he was watching itwas dispelled in an instant. A fierce shout suddenly broke the silence.

  "Didn't I say so?" cried Steve, a grim look on his face. "Them varmintaer hit upon the truth, and they know well that white men has been afterthem buffalo within this last hour. Thar they go in two parties, whilethat chap ridin' away by hisself is goin' to the camp to bring along theothers. Seems to me we shall have the hull crowd of 'em about us aforemany minutes. Lad, seems almost a pity you troubled to bring me out."

  The little scout smiled at Jack, and held out a hand.

  "Yer ain't no tenderfoot," he said huskily. "I've been round about theplains boy and man, and I've seen a sight of gallant actions, but theywas mostly the work of experienced men, not of young chaps new from thetowns. Jack, I've marked it up fer yer. Ef we squeeze out of this,t'others shall know, and Steve won't forget what he's owing. Now, lad,jest roll me over and pull off my shirt. Thar's a bit of beef in mysaddle bag, and ef yer cut a hunk of fat from it it'll do to rub intothe back. Seems the spine's a bit shook up, and is already better. Gee,ef I can't move a toe now!"

  He smiled grimly as he pointed to one boot, and showed our hero that hecould move it. Then he lay back against the tree and watched the enemyeagerly. As for Jack, he rubbed Steve's back vigorously till the scoutdeclared that he was better. Then, seizing his gun, he lay down towatch, wondering how long it would take the Indians to find them, andwhether, in that event, he and Steve could hope to escape.

  Nor was it long before his mind was filled with misgiving. As the shadesof evening drew in, a party of Indians came to a halt a mile from theirhiding place, and pointed eagerly in their direction.

  "Didn't I say so," growled Steve, kneeling up, for his strength was fastreturning. "Them varmints are hit on our trail, and'll be along in halfa jiffy. Jack, thar ain't no use denyin' it, you and me ain't got half ashow. Them critters is bound to take us."

  Let the reader place himself for one brief moment in the position inwhich our hero so suddenly and unexpectedly found himself. There he was,young, full of life and vigour, with his outlook upon the world renderedwonderfully more attractive by the friendship and companionship of Steveand his brother scouts, face to face with a danger which the experiencedIndian fighter beside him assured him was great--so great that deathmust almost inevitably follow. The announcement was enough to blanch thecheek of a man, let alone a young fellow of his age. It was enough tounnerve the boldest. Yet Jack did not quake, though, to speak the truth,his heart set to work hammering at his ribs as it never seemed to havedone before. He even feared that that rat-a-tat-tat in his ears, thethud of his heart drumming so loudly within his breast, would be heardby the enemy, would reach the Indians and hasten the end at which Steveso bluntly hinted.

  "Bound to take us," he repeated, whispering the words.

  "Ay, bound to. That is, as fer as I can see. I've been in many a ructionwith the critters, and I don't say as I ain't never been as badly upagin it as I am now. But, yer see, sarcumstances is that bad. It ain'tas if this here wood was a big one, and we could slip away through thetrees, giving them varmint their work to follow. It ain't big. It'ssmall, and, 'sides, thar's these legs of mine. Gee! I've never felt thesame before. It ain't often Steve ain't able to get about and lift hisshooter. It seems queer too. Here's me, used all my life to carryin' agun, and findin' as it's saved my life many a time. Wall, here I am, andI guess an Injun kid could come right in and scalp me. It aer enough tomake a man swear."

  "I will protect you. You have forgotten that I am here."

  Suddenly, it seemed to Jack, the thumping of his heart stopped. A momentor two before the drumming in his ears had been annoying, to say theleast of it. But now the trouble was gone. He looked steadily at Steve,gripped his rifle, and then turned his attention to the enemy.

  "My!" Steve gave vent to the exclamation gently. In the excitement ofthe moment, with his eyes fixed on the deadly Indian enemy out on theplain, Jack's recent heroism had escaped his memory. He forgot for themoment that the lad had shown unusual grit, and looked upon him as acity lad, brave perhaps, but as helpless as he himself in such adilemma. Then he suddenly stole a sideways look a
t Jack, to find the ladwatching the enemy coolly, critically, noting every movement. His facewas sunburned and held a healthy colour. There was no trace ofnervousness about him, and, to Steve's wonder, there was an entireabsence of excitement. Jack was cool, and wore a determined appearance,a set of his chin which was strange to him and to Steve.

  "My!" exclaimed the hunter again. "Ef I don't believe as ye're ready totackle all them varmint single-handed. Wall, it do do an old hunter likeme good ter see sech grit. I've knowed green 'uns face fire for the fusttime and seem ter like it. I've knowed old hands get that fidgety whenthe bullets got whistling that they wasn't able to set or to standstill. And agin I've seed old 'uns and new 'uns get a sudden fit offunks, and then their chances ain't worth buyin'. Reckon, Jack, yerain't the one to go under without a struggle. Ef them critters want togive yer knocks, you aer goin' ter return 'em."

  The idea tickled the humour of the little hunter, and in spite of thedangerous proximity of the Indians, in spite of the death which was soperilously near, he grinned, and once more gave expression to hisamazement. "My!" he whispered. "Ef that don't take it!"

  "H-h-h-ush! They're moving. What are they going to do?"

  Jack held out a hand and touched Steve, drawing his attention to theenemy. And then, for five minutes, the two lay as still as mice. Rightbefore their eyes were the Indians, and during those long minutes Jackhad an opportunity of inspecting them thoroughly, of watching theirbehaviour in their natural haunts, for as yet the band of men wasunconscious of his and of Steve's presence. At any other time he wouldhave been filled with admiration and with wonder, for before him weremen who, in their own particular way, were as fine, even finer, horsementhan were the hunters. True, time was when a horse was unknown to theIndian of the plain, when he looked upon it as some fearful beast to becarefully avoided. But once the animal had been imported to the countryhe had been quick to realize its utility. And now he rode, barebackedfor the most part, sitting his mount with that easy swing of the bodywhich shows a born horseman. It was fine to see the band of redskinsgrouped about one another, to watch as the younger men occasionallygalloped from the group, only to bring their mounts to the rightaboutwith amazing swiftness. And then their ease of mounting, the swiftnesswith which they slipped from the backs of their horses and vaulted againto their seats was a revelation not to be experienced even on a ranch.

  "The critters!" exclaimed Steve. "Ef they could shoot jest as well asthey kin ride, then thar wouldn't always be so much chance fer us. Butthis ain't ter be a case of shootin'. It's tracking that's wanted, andwhar that's the case thar ain't no one to touch an Injun varmint I tellyer, Jack, we're clear up agin it. We ain't got half a show. As I looksat it, we can't get away from this wood, while them critters can'tmanage to miss us. Wall, that means jest one thing. They're jest boundter take us."