XIII
HORSES AT LAST
"Are they Snakes, Hugh?"
"Yes, of course. But we put in the dag-gonedest time you ever saw, catchin' 'em," responded Hugh. "First we had 'em, then we didn't, next they had us!"
"What's that around your neck? Where's your hat?"
"Faith, ye look like a Borneo ape," added Pat. Hugh almost blushed through his coat of tan and whiskers. He was bare-headed, and about his neck was a curious object like a tippet or boa. In fact, it was very similar to the fur boas worn by women of to-day. One end was a nose and eyes, the other end was a tail; and all along the edge dangled small rolls of white fur sewed to a white band and hanging eighteen inches long—forming a kind of tassel cloak. The collar itself was brown otter, the border and tassels were ermine. But it was an odd-looking rig.
"Shucks," apologized Hugh. "We traded clothes with the Injuns, to show good feelin'. The other fellow's wearin' my hat. Shields traded his shirt, too. The chief's got on the captain's cocked hat. And you ought to see Drouillard. He's painted, to boot. With all that, we had a narrow squeak, I reckon."
"How far you been?"
