"'That would be tellin' a lie,' says I.
"So we stood lookin' at each other, not knowin' what to do.
"'I'll tell ye what,' cries Martin; 'we'll cut it up, and take the
meat into camp an' cook it without _sayin' a word_.'
"'Done,' says I, 'that's it;' for ye must know the poor critter wos no
judge o' meat. He couldn't tell one kind from another, an' he niver
axed questions. In fact he niver a'most spoke to us all the trip.
Well, we cut up the horse, an' carried the flesh an' marrowbones into
camp, takin' care to leave the hoofs an' skin behind, an' sot to work
an' roasted steaks an' marrowbones."
"When the natter-list came back ye should ha' seen the joyful face he
put on when he smelt the grub, for he was all but starved out, poor
critter."
"'What have we got here?' cried he, rubbin' his hands an' sittin'
down."
"'Steaks an' marrow-bones,' says Martin."
"'Capital!' says he. 'I'm _so_ hungry.'"
"So he fell to work like a wolf. I niver seed a man pitch into
anything like as that natter-list did into that horseflesh.
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