The National tribune., 1900-04-12

o. bein' put in the rebel army than We art.
of going hack TO prison. He's dOdgln'
The rebels just as much as we are. He's
probably out tryin' to knock over another
shoat belonging to some other man for
supper. We ct him out o house and home
this mornin'."
"Don't you believe it for a minute" re-
turned Shorty. "You can't trust that
sapsucker as far as you kin sling a bull by
the tail. He's naturally a sneak and a
traitor. He'll sneak and double on you
Just for the sake % sncakin' and doublin' i,
and when he'll lose by it. That catfish
mouth o his gives him dead away, if moth
in else does. Never trust a man with n
catfish mouth. He'd steal old eggs from
under a scttin'-hen, JEST to be mean to the
hen. Pm goin' out there q little ways to
look for that swamp-snipe."
Shorty slipped across the creek, and
through the tunnel-like runway in the cane
toward Ronesefs sYcamore-kitchen. AS
he ucarcd this. he heard voices, and moved
so stcs.lthily that he did not shake leaf
above him, or make the least noise. He
saw Bone3et talking 10 another tall, giant,
shackling, long-haired "goober-grabber.
who had u bag, apparently, Of meal over his
shoulder and piece of sidemeat suspended
by bark strip in his left hand, while his
right held an old squirrel rifle.
"Whar've yo' done bin. Hez. an wizard
yo' git them thar pervisions" inquired
1)Dllts5el, DIS iiit QUIET stIlu ulOpIcu
the butt of his rifle on the ground. Some
body's smokehouse's suffered"
Done bin over watchin' the conscripters
rakin' t'other side o the Flint. They'unS
S jst skinnin' the country over thar. Git
tin all the boys. They'u uns 's beatin' the
swamps like they 'uns WAS huntin' rabbits.
Ole Joe Johnston's bound ter have every
man in the country, ter feed ter ole Sher-
mans powder mill. He's feedin' 'em ter
the Yanks like cotton ter a gin. Ole Jake
Cumback, the ole nigger-thief, s in COM
mand o the conScripters, an Torkin' his
shirt often his back ter git men ter CO. an
so save his own ole whisky-soaked carkiSs
from Yankee bullets. Blast his ole hog
hide He WIZ so dead keen ter have a war,
but nary n step did lie ever take ter git inter
the fout hisself, dod-rot his wuthless skin.
He wants ter make po' men do all the
foutin'. | clum a tall cypress over thar,
an watched they y'unS."
"Yo' didn't find that thar poke o meal
an hunk O. side-meat up thar in the tree,
did yo'?" asked BoncSet, looking at the
"pcrvisions" covetously.
NO" grinned HeZ Grubwood, triumph
antly; didn't git this in nary tree-top. That
thar clay-eatin', grease-heel Polk Ware wuz
a-bossin' a gang that WIZ operatin' night
est the river bank He had Wash Stiggins's S
nigger Brooze a-trailin after him with
they uns IS grub on a meWcl. Ole Brooze
he done fell away behind, while huntin
round ter find a coal somewhar ter light
fire ter cook they'uns's dinner. He'd
got the coal somewhar, an cum moSeyin'
erlong tod my tree. | reckoned that I'd
skin down the tree, and jump out afore the
mewel, ketch his bride, an make old
BrooZe gi' me sumtin' for dinner. But
come up too suddent-like. The mewel he
rared, BrooZe drapt the coal on his witllers,
an hit must some way have ketched IN
under the saddle, for that blamed mewel
made two good rods the very fust jump,
an the rest Warn't fur short o that length.
He shed the meat an the meal the very
fust lunge, an erbout n hundred rods furder
he done scraped the nigger off agin limb
Whether he done busted his neck or split
his head ! didn't go fer ter see. haint got
no niggers ter look out fer nor no novels
nuther. The last | seed o. the mewel wuz
brown streak pintin' fer the Ocmulgee,
an ;l-gwine rs if he wuz under bonds ter
git thar in a holy minute. Ust done
gethered up the pervisions an skeeted out
fer this side O the river, an hyah | am.
Wash is out a mewel an a nigger an Polk
Ware an his gang air out they 'uns's S
dinner while Pm ahead o the game several
pints. The Lords on the side o the po
man ter-day."
"Say, Hez. I've alters bin mouty good
friend O your'n"
"Cept when l stood in yer way, or had
something yo' wanted" answered Hez
with n knowing leer.
"Now, I'm nearly dead fer a taste o
meat and pone vittles. Haint had bite
o regler bread an meat fer a coon's age.
Won't yo' whack up that truck with me?"
'SSee you roasted fust, an then would
MT. | need every mite o. this grub myself
Don't know when nor whar I'm gwine ter
git no more, an thar's no tellin' how far
I'll have ter run, or how I'll have ter hide
ter keep outen Wash's hands. I've gotter
look out fer myself"
Say, Hez, I've done got an idee."
spit hit out; yer idees don't jinnerully
mount ter nothin', but as I've got ter rest
hyah spell l mout as well listen"
will yo' sw'ar ter God-hope God'n
strike yo' dead with thunder-bolt the
next minnit if yo' don't-that yo'u play
far and squar' with me?"
"Yes, I'll sw'ar," said Hez, impressed
by Gabe's earnestuess. He laid down the
piece of meat, set his rifle against the tree,
took off his hat and held up his right hand.
"Well, then, s'help yo' God Almighty
hope God'lmighty'll trike yo' clean daid
in a holy minnit," said Gabe i'm
pressively "cording ter the CONSTRUCTION
an laws O. the State o. Jawgy. An yo'
will be struck daid, too, Hez Grubwood,
if yo' go back on me-. Whenever / say
CONSTRUCTION an laws O. the State O. Jawgy
hits sure pop. Knowed several men ter