Then the old man got to cussing, and cussed everything and everybody he could think of, and then cussed them all over again to make sure he hadn't skipped any, and after that he polished off with a kind of a general cuss all round, including a considerable parcel of people which he didn't know the names of, and so called them what's-his-name when he got to them, and went right along with his cussing.
He said he would like to see the widow get me.

He said he would watch out, and if they tried to come any such game on him he knowed of a place six or seven mile off to stow me in, where they might hunt till they dropped and they couldn't find me.

That made me pretty uneasy again, but only for a minute; I reckoned I wouldn't stay on hand till he got that chance.
The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had got.
There was a fifty-pound sack of corn meal, and a side of bacon, ammunition, and a four-gallon jug of whisky, and an old book and two newspapers for wadding, besides some tow.

I toted up a load, and went back and set down on the bow of the skiff to rest.

I thought it all over, and I reckoned I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and take to the woods when I run away.