Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 98: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

90 The Grand Round-Up. “Say, that’s the little chap who thought he’d lick Buckskin.” “It looks like Little Buckshot all right,” assented Cuthbert. “Looks like!” repeated Karl. ‘That’s the feller, on your new saddle!” “Well, he’ll thank us for this, no matter about whether he hates you or not. Hello, Karl, what are you going to do!” “Never mind, only fill your hands full of snow.” Cuthbert looked mildly astonished. “WWadn’t you better put Little Buckshot up near the firer” he suggested. “What! do you want to kill him outright, if he ain’t dead already?” shouted Karl, with scorn in his voice. “Here, you do as I tell you and ask no ques- tions. I’ve seen many fellers lie down in the snow and beg to be let ‘sleep in peace,’ and I guess I had ought to know what to do in a case of this kind.” He began rubbing the young Indian with snow to take out the frost, and set Cuthbert to work chafing his limbs, so as to induce circulation. As a last resort Karl even pummeled him as if he were kneading bread. If a spark of life remained in Mr. Lo’s poor body it was bound to be fanned into a lively flame under such vigorous treatment. Success rewarded their efforts. By degrees the exhausted Indian boy—for he was hardly more, though proud to call himself a brave— came back to life. In less than half an hour he sat 1 up, and soon after was on his feet, slapping his arms, and in others ways causing the warm blood to tingle in his extremities. Meawhile, once more the odor of cooking buffalo meat permeated the old wreck of a cabin, which had probably been the scene of many a similar feast in days of yore. ConniclooOokks.€©