Part 37 (1/2)
”Boyees!” said Rube, not heeding the remark, and apparently in good humour, now that he was satisfying his appet.i.te, ”what's the na.s.siest thing, leavin' out man-meat, any o' 'ees iver chawed?”
”Woman-meat, I reckin.”
”'Ee chuckle-headed fool! yur needn't be so peert now, showin' yur smartness when 'tain't called for nohow.”
”Wal, leaving out man-meat, as you say,” remarked one of the hunters, in answer to Rube's question, ”a muss-rat's the meanest thing I ever set teeth on.”
”I've chawed sage-hare--raw at that,” said a second, ”an' I don't want to eat anything that's bitterer.”
”Owl's no great eatin',” added a third.
”I've ate skunk,” continued a fourth; ”an' I've ate sweeter meat in my time.”
”Carrajo!” exclaimed a Mexican, ”what do you think of monkey? I have dined upon that down south many's the time.”
”Wal, I guess monkey's but tough chawin's; but I've sharpened my teeth on dry buffler hide, and it wa'n't as tender as it mout 'a been.”
”This child,” said Rube, after the rest had given in their experience, ”leavin' monkey to the beside, have ate all them critturs as has been named yet. Monkey he hain't, bein' as thur's none o' 'em in these parts. It may be tough, or it mayn't; it may be bitter, an' it mayn't, for what I knows to the contrairywise; but, oncest on a time, this niggur chawed a varmint that wa'n't much sweeter, if it wur as sweet.”
”What was it, Rube?”
”What was it?” asked several in a breath, curious to know what the old trapper could have eaten more unpalatable than the viands already named.
”'Twur turkey-buzzart, then; that's what it wur.”
”Turkey-buzzard!” echoed everyone.
”'Twa'n't any thin' else.”
”Wagh? that was a stinkin' pill, an' no mistake.”
”That beats me all hollow.”
”And when did ye eat the buzzard, old boy?” asked one, suspecting that there might be a story connected with this feat of the earless trapper.
”Ay! tell us that, Rube; tell us!” cried several.
”Wal,” commenced Rube, after a moment's silence, ”'twur about six yeern ago, I wur set afoot on the Arkansaw, by the Rapahoes, leastwise two hunder mile below the Big Timmer. The cussed skunks tuk hoss, beaver, an' all. He! he!” continued the speaker with a chuckle; ”he! he! they mout 'a did as well an' let ole Rube alone.”
”I reckon that, too,” remarked a hunter. ”'Tain't like they made much out o' that speckelashun. Well--about the buzzard?”
”'Ee see, I wur cleaned out, an' left with jest a pair o' leggins, better than two hunder miles from anywhur. Bent's wur the nearest; an'
I tuk up the river in that direkshun.
”I never seed varmint o' all kinds as shy. They wudn't 'a been if I'd 'a had my traps; but there wa'n't a critter, from the minners in the waters to the bufflers on the paraira, that didn't look like they knowed how this niggur were fixed. I kud git nuthin' for two days but lizard, an' scarce at that.”
”Lizard's but poor eatin',” remarked one.
”'Ee may say that. This hyur thigh jeint's fat cow to it--it are.”
And Rube, as he said this, made a fresh attack upon the wolf-mutton.