misses meetin' old man Butler an' I looks on that as a triumph which
shore borders on relief.'

"'An' I reckons now,' says Dan Boggs, 'you severs your relations with
the war?'

"'No,' goes on the Major; 'I keeps up my voylence to the close. When I
grows robust enough to ride ag'in I'm in Texas. Thar's a expedition
fittin' out to invade an' subdoo Noo Mexico, an' I j'ines dogs with it
as chief of the big guns. Thar's thirty-eight hundred bold and buoyant
sperits rides outen Austin on these military experiments we plans, an'
as evincin' the luck we has, I need only to p'int out that nine months
later we returns with a scant eight hundred. Three thousand of 'em
killed, wounded an' missin' shows that efforts to list the trip onder
the head of "picnics" would be irony.

"'Comin', as we-all does, from one thousand miles away, thar ain't one
of us who saveys, practical, as much about the sand-blown desert
regions we invades as we does of what goes on in the moon. That
Gen'ral Canby, who later gets downed by the Modocs, is on the Rio
Grande at Fort Craig. While we're pirootin' about in a blind sort o'
fashion we ropes up one of Canby's couriers who's p'intin' no'th for
Fort Union with despatches. This Gen'ral Canby makes the followin'
facetious alloosion: After mentionin' our oninvited presence in the
territory, he says:

"'"But let 'em alone. We'll dig the potatoes when they're ripe."

"'Gents, we was the toobers!' An' yere the Major pauses for a drink.
'We was the potatoes which Canby's exultin' over! We don't onderstand