Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

\ 476 The old scout turned a severe face on Shorty. ‘“] didn’t come here to horn in on nothing—and I can make my own camp fire; one that can’t be seen and read for miles in every direction. I jist came to warn you fellers. “Cochise and his Apaches are put- ting on feathered bonnets and holding big medicine ready to go on the war- path. The young braves are painting their bodies and having communion with the Big Spirit. ““} dunno where they will attack first, but small parties is taking a ruinous risk. I’m on my way to warn the ranches to get all stragglers behind walls.” He arose easily to his feet and picked up his rifle. ‘Young squirts like you should be taught manners. ‘Take an old scout’s advice. Put out that fire and scoot to safety; that is, 1f you don’t yearn to have your scalps drying in front of a wigwam.” Before we could answer he glides away into the night, moving at a quick, if slouchy, pace that would take him far. CHAPTER X. INJUN SIGNAL FIRES. EBBE we may appear foolish or reckless, but we didn’t pay no heed to that old scout’s advice, well meant, no doubt. We kept the fire going the same and drowsed before it. ‘The reason was that false alarms of Injuns’ raids and uprisings were so frequent everywhere they became a nuisance to lissen to. It was always an excuse for some old desert rat that thinks he is another Daniel Boone, and lies “bout being an ex-army scout, to pile in with an al- leged tale of Injuns out for blood; and tuck in a pile of food while alarming folks unnecessary. As a matter of fact, these old float- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ers were allus under suspicion of sup- plying Injuns with whisky and arms and ammunition; these last they couldn’t buy for love of gcld at any store in the West, yet they was always well supplied with both. The safety from having their hair raised that old trappers enjoyed, while mixing with the savages, and at times even becoming squaw men, made most folks give them a hard look and steer clear of them. Yet we had been discourt’ous and we both admits it. However, you does get touchy and on edge in strange terri- tory. They used to say on the plains that those lived longest who shot first and asked questions afterward. We let the fire die down in its own good time, curled up in our ponchoes, and went to sleep. Next day, bout noon, we advanced into reg’lar buffalo country. All the signs. Here and yon in the grass was cuplike depressions, bull buffalo wal- lows, where the animals, shoulders to the ground, had pivoted and made holes, in play, I guess, since I never hears any other explanation. Suddenly, without warning, I sights a herd of buffaloes, feeding and repos- ing on a gentle slope westward. “Hobble your hoss,” JI orders Shorty, and as he does so I follows suit immediate. Fortunate for us the buffaloes are down the wind—we can creep upon them without a scare—the breeze is blowing from them to us; other way around you couldn’t see their shaggy black hides for dust. Carefully we creeps on hands and knees toward the herd, I guess a couple of hundred buffaloes in it, but I could not figger exactly. “Wait ontil we are four hundred yards away,” I whispers to Shorty, “and let me have the first shot.” The buffaloes, not being able to get our scent, feed on indifferent and we get into rangé. I select a big black bull, who looked like a leader. Gomichbooks (C@