Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1895-08-23
PICKLES UNCLE.

IL" Clu CattlcnlNn lc0lrU laCk IN MS
chair and poised between -cornful fingers
the last chup'ors of g ci2ur
"No, son newer Gil DO KILN myself
but I've stood round IN seed folks get
checked clear through, which is more
profitable call. To- mind a kiln down
to old Ike StocSion's There WAS Zig
crowd at Stocl;,on's that Juno day The
corrals was fun vi pack mules, an bull
teams, an wagon trains from the east, an
white men. Mezicans hall breeds an In
juns was a-miXin an mcHnGcrin round
a-lyin an a-lnughin an a-drinl.in old Ike's
whisky mighty profuse -Four or five mule
skinners had their long, Timber Is foot
whips. which are loaded with dust shot
from butt to tip, an was craCkin of em Mt
q mark. I've seen one of 'cm with the
most easy delicate, deliberate twist of the
wrist make his whip squirm in the air like
a hurt snake, an all at wonst straighten it
out with the crack of 20 rifles an the
buckskin pepper would cut a hole in a
loose buffalo robe he'd hung up, an all
without investip two ounces of actooal
strength. Several of us was a-loollin on
from the hotel porch applaudin of the good
shots, when Short Creek Dave speaks up
to Jack Moore next to me an says:
Jack, you mind that old Navajo you
downed over on the San Simon last fall?'
L minds it mighty clear says Jack.
He was a-stcalin my boss mt the time, an
l kin prove it by his skelp on my bride
right now.
Well, says Short Creek Dave, point
in to dirty saddle colored half breed who
was maxim himself pretty numerous, that
Teller they calls Pickles is his nephfy, an
you wants TO look out whole lot, fer I've
heard him allow that the KILN of his I'M
Gle was mighty rank, an he didn't like it
nOhow.'
That's all right says Jack. Pickles
an me has ben watchin each other fer an
hour, an I'll tell you-all's private-if he
goes to p ay boss n little bit he an his
uncle will he able to talk things over be-
fore night
"Bimeby Pickles comes along where we
are
"'Hcllo jack he says. Been maxim
Il smoky down in the san Simon latcly?'
"'No, not since last fall says Jack
AN now I thinks of it see that old Nay
aio boss thief Of an uncle of yours when l
was down there last. amt met him late
ly, though. Whore do you reckon he's
done lopcd to-
Can't say myself, says Pickles, with
q sort of wicked chcerfulness. Our fam
lily had Il reunion over on Bear creek last
spring, an l couldn count his nose among
'em nohow Mcbby he had an engage
mcnt an couldn't git there. Mebby he's
out sloshin round i'm the high grass some
'eTs now Great man to go round permits
Gus, that 1njun was
60 You see, says Jack, 1 didn't know
but he might be dead, cause the time
was 'ludin to Twas settin in camp one day
an happens to look up, an thar was my
boss, Alazan, with perfect stranger on
him. Alazan was a-pitchin an a-buckin
an a-cavortin quite frightful an looks like
he was goin TO cripple that stranger shore
Well, you know me. I'd rather lose two
horses than have man don't know git
hurt, so | grabs my winchester an allows
to kill AlaZan. But it was a new gun, an
you know what new sights is-coarse as
sand burs-an holds too high an ketchcs
the stranger, bangl right back of his left
year, an the bullet comes outen his right
year. | never was so displcascd with my
shootin fer ten years The idea of me
holdin four foot too high in 100 yards. l
was so plumb disguised an ashamed new
er went near the stranger till after I'd fin
ishod my grub. Alazan, he came up all
shivcrin an sweatin an stood there, an in
all hour or so l walks out to the remains,
an when / seed 'em they was nOthin but
an old digger Injun. You kin drink on it
was relieved. Bein no account Injun
of course | didn't paw him over much fer
brands, but it struck me at the time it
was mighty likely to be your uncle. This
old cuss' skelp is over on my bride if you
think you'd know it..
Ion, no, says Pickles. mighty uncon-
sarned, lit couldn't be my uncle nohow.
/ If it was one of my family it would have
| been your ha'r on his bride, so it must
have been some old shorthorn of Mo-
have, you seed. Well let's all take drink
on it..
$50 woall went in fer our whisky, Jack
an Pickles watchin each other mighty
close an all the rest of us on the keevee, as
the French say, to hop outen range if they
took to shootin.
" Well, says Pickles as he secreted his
nose paint, i must saddle an git out O,
here. 1 want to see Enright, an don't
reckon I'll find the old Pine this side OF
Prescott either. When do you think you'll
leave yourself, Jackg'
" Il don't put it up I'll leave for long
time, says Jack; 'mebby not fur month
SO don'U go to maxim any friendly waits
fer me nowhar on the trail, Pickles, cause
you'd most likely run out of water OF
somethin before l got along
'Bimeby Pickles he gifts saddled up an
comes chargin round on his little buck
skin boss, cuttin all manner of tricks
reachin fer things on the ground, snatohiI
off Mexicans' hats an a-jumpin his pony
over wagon tongues an camp fixin's al
the time a-whoopin an a-yellin an havin &
high old time all by himself. You coult
see he was a-gettln up his blood an nerve
reg lar Injun fashion. Pretty soon he takes
down his rope an goes to whirlin that
Two or three times he comes fashin by
whar we were, an looked fer to see hin
make try fer Jack. But he was too fal