Wishing to lend our frying-pan to another mess, I looked around for something to lay our meat upon.

Near the horses I saw a book cover, which would answer the purpose admirably.
Springing up, I skipped across to where it was, snatched it up, and ran back to my place.

As I reached it a yell from the boys made me look around.

The darky was coming at me "full tilt," with his gun at a "charge bayonets." As I turned he said: "Put dat right back dah!" I said: "Why, this don't amount to anything, this is only an old book cover.
It hasn't anything in the world to do with the horses." He only replied: "Put dat right back dah!" I tried another appeal: "Now, you woolly-headed son of thunder, haven't you got sense enough to know that the officer who posted you didn't mean such a thing as this! He only meant that we should not be allowed to take any of the horses' bedding or equipments; don't you see ?" I might as well have reasoned with a cigar store Indian.

He set his teeth, his eyes showed a dangerous amount of white, and foreshortening his musket for a lunge, he hissed out again "Put dat right back dah, I tell you!" I looked at the bayonet; it was very long, very bright, and very sharp.
It gleamed cold and chilly like, as if it had not run through a man for a long time, and yearned for another opportunity.