Bower, B. M., 1871-1940 / 2008-07-04 00:00:00

Buddy stood blinking and sniffing, his eyes fixed upon
the Dutch ovens.
"I'm HUNGRY!" he announced accusingly, gripping the toad that
had begun to squirm at the heat and light. I kilt a snake an'
I'm HUNGRY!"
"Good gorry!" swore Step-and-a-Half, and whipped out his
six-shooter and fired three shots into the air.
Footsteps came scurrying. Buddy's mother swept him into her
arms, laughing with a little whimpering sound of tears in the
laughter. Buddy wriggled protestingly in her arms.
"L'kout! Y' all SKUCSH 'im! I got a HAWN-toe; wight here."
He patted his chest gloatingly. "An' I got a snake. I kilt
'im. An' I'm HUNGRY."
Mother of Buddy though she was, Lassie set him down hurriedly
and surveyed her man-child from a little distance.
"Buddy! Drop that snake instantly'"
Buddy obeyed, but he planted a foot close to his kill and
pouted his lips. "'S my snake. I kilt 'im," He said firmly.
He pulled the horned toad from his waist-front and held it
tightly in his two hands. "An's my hawn-toe. I ketche'd'm.
'Way ova dere," he added, tilting his tow head toward the
darkness behind him.
Bob Birnie rode up at a gallop, pulled up his horse in the
edge of the fire glow and dismounted hastily.
Bob Birnie never needed more than one glance to furnish him
the details of a scene.
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