growin' up faster 'n he can slide down an' he keeps right on goin' outta sight."
He paused and pulled twice at his pipe, ignoring the mirth about him.
"Now, this 's pret' serious, thinks Paul, Swede Charley up thar an' goin' higher; what's goin' to happen to him? He'll starve, won't he?
"So Paul runs to th' cook shanty an' gits a lotta biscuits an' into th' van where he keeps his shot gun.
"Pret' good gun, this here one of Paul's. Fair-sized gun, too. Paul he used to load each bar'l with a dish pan full of powder an' brick bats an' he'd shoot her first east an' if he didn't git game thar, he'd shoot her west; allus got game one place or t'other.
"So Paul loads her with biscuits an' shoots both bar'ls up toward where Charley's went, most outta sight by then. And they knowed Charley 'd have somethin' to eat ontil they could git him down.
"Th' settler he walks home an' Paul he goes to bed, thinkin' 'bout that air team an' Charley. Nothin' he can do till mornin' but when mornin' comes, th' top of that stalk, th' team an' Charley is all clean outta sight—
"Paul he gits right worried. Atter a few days they commences to find dead crows in th' swamp. Crows kep' fallin' down plumb dead an' nothin' but skin an' bones. Lot o' crows. Paul he figgers that air out, too. This here team's died up thar an' th' crows has started up atter 'em for a nice meal, but they 's starved to death on th' way!"
Taylor glanced at the battered clock. It was after one.
"Now this here cornstalk gives no sign of slowin' up. She grows over ag'in' the barn an' they have fer to put
