The captain approached, and stood for a moment contemplating us in
silence.

"I say, Parkman," he began, "look at Shaw there, asleep under the cart,
with the tar dripping off the hub of the wheel on his shoulder!"

At this Shaw got up, with his eyes half opened, and feeling the part
indicated, he found his hand glued fast to his red flannel shirt.

"He'll look well when he gets among the squaws, won't he?" observed the
captain, with a grin.

He then crawled under the cart, and began to tell stories of which his
stock was inexhaustible. Yet every moment he would glance nervously at
the horses. At last he jumped up in great excitement. "See that horse!
There--that fellow just walking over the hill! By Jove; he's off. It's
your big horse, Shaw; no it isn't, it's Jack's! Jack! Jack! hallo,
Jack!" Jack thus invoked, jumped up and stared vacantly at us.

"Go and catch your horse, if you don't want to lose him!" roared the
captain.

Jack instantly set off at a run through the grass, his broad pantaloons
flapping about his feet. The captain gazed anxiously till he saw
that the horse was caught; then he sat down, with a countenance of
thoughtfulness and care.

"I tell you what it is," he said, "this will never do at all. We shall
lose every horse in the band someday or other, and then a pretty plight
we should be in! Now I am convinced that the only way for us is to have