Three Natives of Pike.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XXI, Issue 4750, 15 March 1899, Page 1

Three Natives of Pike.

low's neck. It was a big terrapin and. was getting bigger every second—expanding m every way. " 'Aha!' cries I, and I sent a silver bullet into the thing, when down tumc bles a little nigger boy. "Nest minute something brushed me m the face that felt like a leather apron, and down drops a flying terrapin and grabs at the silver bell. I pops this one with a silver bullet, and before me lies an old nigger woman all a-kicking and a-squalling. "In three minutes all three were dead, §nd I then took the silver bell and collar off the old man's neck. I started back toward home a-ringing the bell and the whole band of terrapins turned about and marched after me. Prom that hour I was the 'king of the terrapins.' I could lead 'em anywhere, though they'd never leave the swamp until they heard the music of that silver bell." "Stranger, shake hands!" cried the Pike. "I hope you made half a million out'n them tarrapin, and I don't begrudge it to you. In what you've told you've morn paid me for all my trouble and losses. This is the happiest day of my life. Buck and Bud never would believe m my tarrapin drive, but now they've got to back water—now the whole thing is proved Gospel truthl" After a parting round of redeye the three Pikes took leave of us. They marched Indian file into the tules skirting the northern end of the lake. They parted the tall rushes to right and left, as a farmer waves aside the stalks when he passes through a field of growing grain. They made a bee line for the ranching settlement lying to the westward of the lake along the timbered foothills of the Sierras. Our chief of commissary looked after the retreating Pikes and said, "Three as queer and well matched cattle as I ever saw, and as capable drinkers!" "Three tolerably capable liars," said our chief cook, who was always grumbling. "The only thing worthy of a second thought m all their yarns," said the critic of our party, "is this—how came that fellow Lige to know that Colorado Joe here—a stranger to him—had a scar on the cap of his right knee?" "Urn, the fact is," said Joe, "I 'bunked' at the cabin of the three Pikes last night when you here thought I was lodged at a hotel m Franktown, at the other end of the lake." Critic—Ah, I see! So it is to you we are indebted for the visit and peculiar style of entertainment we have beett favored with today? Colorado Joe—Yep! THE END.