One day I captured eight--eight little buffalo calves! Never will I forget that day as long as I live!" "Tell us about it," I suggested, in a matter of fact, round-the-campfire voice.

Had the silent plainsman ever told a complete and full story of his adventures?
I doubted it.

He was not the man to eulogize himself.
A short silence ensued.

The cabin was snug and warm; the ruddy embers glowed; one of Jim's pots steamed musically and fragrantly.

The hounds lay curled in the cozy chimney corner.
Jones began to talk again, simply and unaffectedly, of his famous exploit; and as he went on so modestly, passing lightly over features we recognized as wonderful, I allowed the fire of my imagination to fuse for myself all the toil, patience, endurance, skill, herculean strength and marvelous courage and unfathomable passion which he slighted in his narrative..