<SPAN name="chap45"></SPAN>
<h3>Chapter Forty Five.</h3>
<h4>The Barrow in Debate.</h4>
<p>Our patience was not put to a severe test. O’Tigg was not the man to keep his tongue in tranquillity for any extended time. Neither was Sure-shot an admirer of the silent system. Both were talkers. On this occasion, the “infantry” was the first to make himself heard.</p>
<p>“Be japers! comrayde, I’m afther thinkin’ fwhat purty fools us hiv bin, to tak it afut this way, loike two thramps, whin wez moight ivery bit as wil hav been stroidin’ a pair ov good pownies. We cowld a fitched a pair from the Fort wid all the aize in the wurld.”</p>
<p>“Yees, Petrick, certing ye ain’t fer ’stray ’bout thet pertickler; we’ve been raither ungumptious.”</p>
<p>“Besoides, wez rooight as wil hav been hung for a shape as a lamb. We’ll be flogg’d all as wan, iv the iskhort foinds us, fur taykin’ the guns, an’ the knapsacks, an’ the whaleborra—bad luck to the borra!”</p>
<p>“No, Petrick, don’t cuss the berra—it hes served us for certing. We kedn’t a got along ’thout the machine—how ked we? We ked niver hev toted our doin’s es we’ve did; an’ but for the piece o’ bacon an’ thet eer bag o’ meal, we’d a sterved long afore this, I recking. Don’t cuss the berra.”</p>
<p>“Och! it’s made my showlders ache, as if some skhoundrel had been batin’ them wid a sprig ov shillaylah!”</p>
<p>“Ne’er a mind ’bout thet! yer shoulders ’ll be all right arter ye’ve got a wink o’ sleep. Spank my skin! ef thet ere wan’t a cute dodge—it’s throwd the Indyens off o’ the scent for certain; or we’d a heerd some’ut o’ them verming afore this.”</p>
<p>“Faith, I think we’ve sucksaided in bamboozling thim, shure enough.”</p>
<p>The meat by this time showed sufficiently done; and the two men applied themselves to eating, with an earnestness that allowed no time for talking. The conversation had revealed enough of their past actions, and future designs, to confirm the conjectures I had already formed about them.</p>
<p>As stated, they had both belonged to the “Rangers” of immortal memory. After the disbandment of the corps, they had entered upon a fresh lease of soldier-life, by enlisting into the regular army. O’Tigg had given preference to the sky-blue of the “line;” while the Yankee had taken to the mounted rifles—as a capital marksman, like him, would naturally do. Indeed, it would have been impossible to have “licked” the latter into anything like soldierly shape; and all the drill-sergeants in creation could not have made him stand with “toes turned in,” or “eyes right.” To have “dressed” the old ranger in line would have been a physical impossibility. In the mounted rifles, personal appearance is of less importance; and considering the little inclination there is to enlist in the American army—especially in times of peace—the oddest looking article is thankfully accepted. In the dearth of recruits. Sure-shot could have had no difficulty in passing inspection.</p>
<p>Both had evidently become tired of their respective services. The routine of a frontier post is of itself sufficient to produce the deadliest <i>ennui</i>; and the Californian attraction had “capped the climax.” The temptation was too strong for either Yankee or Hibernian nature to resist; and these worthy types of both had taken French-leave of the fort. It was thus that I epitomised the recent history of my old <i>camarados</i>. As they were evidently aware of the caravan being in the advance, and had been following it, it was easily conjectured that Fort Smith—a military post on the Arkansas opposite Van Buren—had been the scene of their defection. Very likely, they had kept near the train all along the route—with a view to guidance and partial protection—as also for a <i>dernier ressort</i> to which they might betake themselves in case of their stores giving out. The escort, hinted at, would be sufficient to account for their not being in closer communication with the caravan.</p>
<p>It appeared, they had been so far fortunate in escaping an encounter with Indians; but this, as in our case, was most likely due to the passage of the caravan. We knew that the red-skinned robbers would be too much occupied with the train itself and its more immediate stragglers, to be looking out for any so far in the rear as we; and to this circumstance, no doubt, were we indebted for the uninterrupted travel we had achieved. A greater proximity to the train would have rendered our passage more perilous. Sure-shot, though a slouch in his dress, was no simpleton. The trick of taking up the barrow was, no doubt, a conception of his brain, as well as its being borne upon the shoulders of the Irishman—who, in all likelihood, had performed the <i>rôle</i> of wheeling it from Fort Smith to the Big Timbers, and was expected to push it before him to the edge of the Pacific Ocean! It was evident that Patrick was tired of his task: for they had not made much progress in their Homeric supper, before he once more returned to the subject.</p>
<p>“But shure now, comrayde! we moight manage widout the borra—seein’ as we’ve got into the buffalos’ counthry. Aren’t them bastes as aizy to kill as tame cows? Shure we’d niver be widout mate as long as our powder lasts?”</p>
<p>“Jess t’other way, ye fool! We’re a going <i>out</i> o’ the buffuler country, an’ into perts where theer ain’t a anymal bigger than a rat. On t’other side o’ the mountings, theer ain’t no beests o’ any kind—neery one; an’ its jess theer we’ll want that eer bag o’ meel. Ef we don’t take it along, we’ll sterve for certing.”</p>
<p>“Be me sowl! I’d ruther carry the male on my showlders. There’s liss of it now; an’ maybe I could manage it, iv you’ld only carry the spids, an’ thim other things. We moight lave the knapsicks an’ kyarthridge-box behind. What use ud they be in Kalifornya? They’ll only lade to our detiction by the throops out there.”</p>
<p>“Don’t ee be skeert ’bout thet, kimrade! Ef theer’s troops in Californey, they’ll hev theer hands full ’ithout troublin’ us, I reeking. We ain’t like to be the only two critters as hain’t got a <i>pass</i> for the diggins. Ne’er a bit o’t. We’ll find deserters out theer es thick as blue-bottles on a barkiss. Certingly we shell. Besides, Petrick, we needn’t take the knepsacks all the way out theer, nor the berra neythur, nor nuthin’ else we’ve brought from the Fort.”</p>
<p>“Fwhat div yez mane?” interrogated the Irishman—evidently puzzled to interpret the other’s speech. “We kin leave all them fixing in Morming City.”</p>
<p>“But will the thrain be afther thravellin’ that way? Shure ye don’t know that.”</p>
<p>“Certing it will. A putty consid’able pert o’ it air made up o’ Mormings; an’ they’ll be boun’ to the Salt Lake. We kin foller them an’ drop t’other. In the Morming settlements, we kin swop our unyforms for suthin’ else, an’ the berra too. Es to the knepsacks an’ cartridge-box, I guess as how I inteend to make a spec on them ere two articles.”</p>
<p>“Fwhat! a pair ov soger knapsacks, an’ an owld kyarthridge-box! They wuldn’t fitch the worth ov dhrinks apaice.”</p>
<p>“Theer your mistaking, Mister Tigg. Preehaps they’ll swop better’n you think. How d’ye know I ain’t like to git a beest apiece for ’em—eyther a mule or a hoss? This child ain’t a going to fut it all the way to Californey. B’yont the Morming City, he rides a spell, I recking.”</p>
<p>“Be japers! that’s an out-an’-out good oidea. But how dev ye mane to carry it through? that’s what bothers Patrick O’Tigg.”</p>
<p>“We—ell, Petrick, I’ll tell ee my plan. I ain’t got it straightened out yet, but I hope to hev it all right by the time we’re on t’other side the mountings—leastwise before we reaches Morming City.”</p>
<p>“Arrah! fwhat is it?” inquired the impatient Irishman.</p>
<p>The Yankee did not vouchsafe an immediate answer; but, while polishing off the bone he held in his hand, appeared at the same time to be busy with some mental operation—perhaps <i>straightening out</i> the plan he had promised to reveal.</p>
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