Then he said with infinite bitterness:
"You're a fine guy, ain't you, a-wishin' this here lady onto a pore
pelt-hunter what ain't never done nothin' to you!"
"Who did you say I wished on you?" I demanded, bewildered.
"That there lady a-sleepin' into the nuptool hammick! You wished her onto
me--yaas you did! Whatnhel have I done to you, hey?"
We were dumb. He shoved his hand into his pocket, produced a slug of
twist, slowly gnawed off a portion, and buried the remains in his vast
jaw.
"All I done to you," he said, "was to write you them letters sayin's as
how I found a lot of ellerphants into the mud.
"What you done to me was to send that there lady here. Was that
gratitood? Man to man I ask you?"
A loud snore from the hammock startled us all. James Skaw twisted his
neck turkey-like, and looked warily at the hammock, then turning toward
me:
"Aw," he said, "she don't never wake up till I have breakfast ready."
"James Skaw," I said, "tell me what has happened. On my word of honor I
don't know."
He regarded me with lack-lustre eyes.
"I was a-settin' onto a bowlder," said he, "a-fig-urin' out whether you
was a-comin' or not, when that there lady rides up with her led-mule a
trailin'.
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