In ten seconds the trouble was over, principally because there
was no more trouble to make. The hound returned leisurely,
licking from his chops the hair of his victims. Uncle Jim shook
his head.

"Trailer," said he sadly, "is a little severe."

We greed heartily, and turned in to welcome Uncle Jim with a
fresh batch of soda biscuits.

The old man was ne of the typical"long hairs." He had come to
the Galiuro Mountains in '69, and since '69 he had remained in
the Galiuro Mountains, spite of man or the devil. At present he
possessed some hundreds of cattle, which he was reputed to water,
in a dry season, from an ordinary dishpan. In times past he had
prospected.

That evening, the severe Trailer having dropped to slumber, he
held forth on big-game hunting and dogs, quartz claims and
Apaches.

"Did you ever have any very close calls?" I asked.

He ruminated a few moments, refilled his pipe with some awful
tobacco, and told the following experience:


In the time of Geronimo I was living just about where I do now;
and that was just about in line with the raiding. You see,
Geronimo, and Ju [1], and old Loco used to pile out of the