He never was no kid.
He was born a full-grown man. An' I tell you a man had to be a
man in them days. This wa'n't no effete civilization like it's
come to be now." Bettles paused long enough to put his arm in
a proper bear-hug around Daylight's neck. "When you an' me
mushed into the Yukon in the good ole days, it didn't rain
soup and they wa'n't no free-lunch joints. Our camp fires was
lit where we killed our game, and most of the time we lived on
salmon-tracks and rabbit-bellies--ain't I right?"
But at the roar of laughter that greeted his inversion, Bettles
released the bear-hug and turned fiercely on them. "Laugh, you
mangy short-horns, laugh! But I tell you plain and simple, the
best of you ain't knee-high fit to tie Daylight's moccasin
strings.
"Ain't I right, Campbell? Ain't I right, Mac? Daylight's one of
the old guard, one of the real sour-doughs. And in them days
they wa'n't ary a steamboat or ary a trading-post, and we cusses
had to live offen salmon-bellies and rabbit-tracks."
He gazed triumphantly around, and in the applause that followed
arose cries for a speech from Daylight. He signified his
consent. A chair was brought, and he was helped to stand upon
it.
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