"Be'n all over it half a dozen times," said he. "'T ain' no more
'n twenty rod from the Yankee shore, thet air island ain't. We
c'u'd paddle there in a day from our cove."
And that was the way we planned to go,--by canoe from our
landing,--and wait for the hour at Paleyville, a Yankee village
opposite the island. We would hire a team there, and convey the
party by wagon to Leraysville.
We were off at daybreak, and going over the hills at a lively
gallop. Crossing to Caraway Pike, in the Cedar Meadows, an hour
later, we stampeded a lot of moose. One of them, a great bull, ran
ahead of us, roaring with fright, his antlers rattling upon bush
and bough, his black bell hanging to the fern-tops.
"Don' never wan't' hev no argyment with one o' them air chaps 'less
ye know purty nigh how 't's comin' out," said D'ri. "Alwus want a
gun es well es a purty middlin' ca-a-areful aim on your side. Then
ye 're apt t' need a tree, tew, 'fore ye git through with it."
After a moment's pause he added: "Got t' be a joemightyful stout
tree, er he 'll shake ye out uv it luk a ripe apple."
"They always have the negative side of the question," I said.
"Don't believe they 'd ever chase a man if he 'd let 'em alone."
"Yis, siree, they would," was D'ri's answer. "I 've hed 'em come
right efter me 'fore ever I c'u'd lift a gun. Ye see, they're jest
es cur'us 'bout a man es a man is 'bout them. Ef they can't smell
'im, they 're terrible cur'us. Jes' wan' t' see what 's inside uv
'im an' what kind uv a smellin' critter he is. Dunno es they wan'
t' dew 'im any pertic'lar harm. Jes' wan' t' mux 'im over a
leetle; but they dew it _awful careless_, an' he ain't never fit t'
be seen no more."
He snickered faintly as he spoke.
"An' they don't nobody see much uv 'im efter thet, nuther," he
added, with a smile.
"I 'member once a big bull tried t' find out the kind o' works I
hed in me. 'T wa'n' no moose--jest a common ord'nary
three-year-ol' bull."
"Hurt you?" I queried.
"No; 't hurt 'im." said he, soberly. "Sp'ilt 'im, es ye might say.
Could n't never bear the sight uv a man efter thet. Seem so he did
n't think he wus fit t' be seen. Nobody c'u'd ever git 'n a mild
o' th' poor cuss. Hed t' be shot."
"What happened?"
"Hed a stout club 'n my hand," said he. "Got holt uv 'is tail, an'
begun a-whalin' uv 'im. Run 'im down a steep hill, an' passin' a
tree, I tuk one side an' he t' other. We parted there fer the las'
time."
He looked off at the sky a moment.
Then came his inevitable addendum, which was: "I hed a dam sight
more tail 'an he did, thet 's sartin."
About ten o'clock we came in sight of our old home. Then we
hurried our horses, and came up to the door with a rush. A
stranger met us there.
"Are you Captain Bell?" said he, as I got off my horse.