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"
Sowl
!
Phalim
O'Nale
,
you
'll
slape
sound
for
this
night
,
spite
ov
all
the
snakes
in
Tixas
!
"
For
some
minutes
after
Phelim
's
soliloquy
,
a
profound
stillness
reigned
around
the
hut
of
the
mustanger
.
There
was
like
silence
inside
;
for
the
countryman
of
Saint
Patrick
,
no
longer
apprehensive
on
the
score
of
reptile
intruders
,
had
fallen
asleep
,
almost
on
the
moment
of
his
sinking
down
upon
his
spread
horse-skin
.
For
a
while
it
seemed
as
if
everybody
was
in
the
enjoyment
of
perfect
repose
,
Tara
and
the
captive
steeds
included
.
The
only
sound
heard
was
that
made
by
Zeb
Stump
's
"
maar
,
"
close
by
cropping
the
sweet
grama
grass
.
Presently
,
however
,
it
might
have
been
perceived
that
the
old
hunter
was
himself
stirring
.
Instead
of
lying
still
in
the
recumbent
attitude
to
which
he
had
consigned
himself
,
he
could
be
seen
shifting
from
side
to
side
,
as
if
some
feverish
thought
was
keeping
him
awake
.
After
repeating
this
movement
some
half-score
of
times
,
he
at
length
raised
himself
into
a
sitting
posture
,
and
looked
discontentedly
around
.
"
Dod-rot
his
ignorance
and
imperence
--
the
Irish
cuss
!
"
were
the
words
that
came
hissing
through
his
teeth
.
"
He
's
spoilt
my
night
's
rest
,
durn
him
!
'
Twould
sarve
him
'
bout
right
to
drag
him
out
,
an
giv
him
a
duckin
'
in
the
crik
.
Dog-goned
ef
I
do
n't
feel
'
clined
torst
doin
'
it
;
only
I
do
n't
like
to
displeeze
the
other
Irish
,
who
air
a
somebody
.
Possible
I
do
n't
git
a
wink
o
'
sleep
till
mornin
'
.
"
Having
delivered
himself
of
this
peevish
soliloquy
,
the
hunter
once
more
drew
the
blanket
around
his
body
,
and
returned
to
the
horizontal
position
.
Not
to
sleep
,
however
;
as
was
testified
by
the
tossing
and
fidgeting
that
followed
--
terminated
by
his
again
raising
himself
into
a
sitting
posture
.
A
soliloquy
,
very
similar
to
his
former
one
,
once
more
proceeded
from
his
lips
;
this
time
the
threat
of
ducking
Phelim
in
the
creek
being
expressed
with
a
more
emphatic
accent
of
determination
.
