Yu’ll see ef I can’t drink it.
Hyur goes to try!”
The old hunter raised the tumbler to his chin; and after giving three gulps, and the fraction of a fourth, returned it empty into the hands of Florinda.
A loud smacking of the lips almost drowned the simultaneous exclamations of astonishment uttered by the young lady and her maid.
“Burn my throat, ye say?
Ne’er a bit.
It hez jest eiled thet ere jugewlar, an put it in order for a bit o’ a palaver I wants to hev wi’ yur father—’bout thet ere spotty mow-stang.”
“Oh, true!
I had forgotten.
No, I hadn’t either; but I did not suppose you had time to have news of it.
Have you heard anything of the pretty creature?”
“Putty critter ye may well pernounce it. It ur all o’ thet. Besides, it ur a maar.” “A ma-a-r! What is that, Mr Stump? I don’t understand.” “A maar I sayed. Shurly ye know what a maar is?” “Ma-a-r—ma-a-r! Why, no, not exactly. Is it a Mexican word? Mar in Spanish signifies the sea.” “In coorse it air a Mexikin maar—all mowstangs air. They air all on ’em o’ a breed as wur oncest brought over from some European country by the fust o’ them as settled in these hyur parts—leesewise I hev heern so.” “Still, Mr Stump, I do not comprehend you. What makes this mustang a ma-a-r?” “What makes her a maar? ’Case she ain’t a hoss; thet’s what make it, Miss Peintdexter.” “Oh—now—I—I think I comprehend.
But did you say you have heard of the animal—I mean since you left us?”
“Heern o’ her, seed her, an feeled her.”
“Indeed!”
“She air grupped.” “Ah, caught! what capital news!
I shall be so delighted to see the beautiful thing; and ride it too.
I haven’t had a horse worth a piece of orange-peel since I’ve been in Texas.
Papa has promised to purchase this one for me at any price.
But who is the lucky individual who accomplished the capture?”
“Ye mean who grupped the maar?”
“Yes—yes—who?”
“Why, in coorse it wur a mowstanger.”
“A mustanger?”
“Ye-es—an such a one as thur ain’t another on all these purayras—eyther to ride a hoss, or throw a laryitt over one.
Yo may talk about yur Mexikins!
I never seed neery Mexikin ked manage hoss-doin’s like that young fellur; an thur ain’t a drop o’ thur pisen blood in his veins.
He ur es white es I am myself.”
“His name?”
“Wal, es to the name o’ his family, that I niver heern. His Christyun name air Maurice.
He’s knowed up thur ’bout the Fort as Maurice the mowstanger.”
The old hunter was not sufficiently observant to take note of the tone of eager interest in which the question had been asked, nor the sudden deepening of colour upon the cheeks of the questioner as she heard the answer.
Neither had escaped the observation of Florinda.
“La, Miss Looey!” exclaimed the latter, “shoo dat de name ob de brave young white gen’l’m—he dat us save from being smodered on de brack prairee?”
“Geehosofat, yes!” resumed the hunter, relieving the young lady from the necessity of making reply. “Now I think o’t, he told me o’ thet suckumstance this very mornin’, afore we started.
He air the same.
Thet’s the very fellur es hev trapped spotty; an he air toatin’ the critter along at this eyedentical minnit, in kump’ny wi’ about a dozen others o’ the same cavyurd. He oughter be hyur afore sundown.
I pushed my ole maar ahead, so ’s to tell yur father the spotty war comin’, and let him git the fust chance o’ buyin’.
I know’d as how thet ere bit o’ hosdoin’s don’t get druv fur into the Settlements efore someb’dy snaps her up.
I thort o’ you, Miss Lewaze, and how ye tuk on so when I tolt ye ’bout the critter.
Wal, make yur mind eezy; ye shell hev the fast chance. Ole Zeb Stump ’ll be yur bail for thet.”
“Oh, Mr Stump, it is so kind of you!
I am very, very grateful.
You will now excuse me for a moment.
Father will soon be back.
We have a dinner-party to-day; and I have to prepare for receiving a great many people.
Florinda, see that Mr Stump’s luncheon is set out for him.
Go, girl—go at once about it!”
“And, Mr Stump,” continued the young lady, drawing nearer to the hunter, and speaking in a more subdued tone of voice, “if the young—young gentleman should arrive while the other people are here—perhaps he don’t know them—will you see that he is not neglected?
There is wine yonder, in the verandah, and other things.