Wlliam Gilmore Simms
The Cub of the Panther: A Hunter Legend of the ''Old North State'' >> Chapter Four: The Deer and Deer Hunters on the Trail >> Page 66

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Novel (Romance) | The University of Arkansas Press | 1997
Transcription 66 THE CUB OF THE PANTHER
Mike, a thing of sentiment, and which, without imparing his abilities
as a hunter, still lifted him into a certain degree of superiority beyond
his occupation and associates.
Mike listened in silence to the scheme of hunt for the morning, and
assented without hesitation; but, after a pause, and while they were
waiting for the first grey streaks of the dawn, he said:
"I wish you, Sam, to make the drive a short one, and brush through
it as rapidly as possible. If we have luck enough to kill one buck, I shall
leave you, perhaps, for the rest of the day.""Well? What about?""And if we get a buck, I'll take it with me, Sam.""Ah! well, yes, to be sure!""I propose, Sam, to take it as a present to Mrs. Carter.""Ah! Mrs. Carter? Well!""I think I will pay her a visit today, and wish to carry her a present!""Very good! Jist to ease the way, as a body may say.""Exactly!""Now, Mike," said Sam, suddenly dropping the butt of his rifle upon
the ground, and confronting Mike where he stood both having
alighted from their horses
"Now, Mike, you know well that I don't make or meddle with the
courtships of other people, and I haven't said a word to you about
your'n. I've left that for Mattie to do, and she's got a long tongue in her
head, and, perhaps, has given you more talk on the subject than you've
been altogether willing to hear. I've warned her more than onst again
it; but she's your sister, and has a nateral right to say more than any
other person.""She has not said too much, Sam," was the mild answer of Mike.
"I'm glad of it! but I'm guine to say something now, Mike, and you
won't think hard of it, ef I say that you'll be a bloody fool to let that gal,
or any gal, make a cat's paw of you any longer. That old fool, her mother,
who is a born nateral, with her swell-head and conceit, is the raal diffi-
culty betwixt you and Rose. Rose would hev hed you long ago, if it
twan't for the old mother; and ef so be, you had only plucked up the
face and tongue to do the axing. Now, you've been helping to feed that
old fool and all the family, time out of mind; hairdly a week passing
that you hevn't sent 'em, sometimes a whole buck or doe, sometimes a
hafe and sometimes a quarter, and you've gin 'em a matter of a dozen
bar skins and buckskins, to make foot cloths and saddle cloths. I don't
begrudge the giving, but I do begrudge feelin's you waste on sich