human
It shore is time, muttered the rider, dismounting.
gpt
Seein' as how we're nearly there, I reckon you can have th' last canteen. You shore deserve it, you game old plodder. An' I'm shore glad them rustlin' snakes have their orders to get back _pronto_; but it would just be our luck if that bull-headed trail-boss held a powpow in that valley of theirs. His name's Roberts, bronch; Hugh Roberts, it is. We'll remember his name an' face if he makes us stay out here till night. You an' me have got to get to that water before another sunrise if all th' thieves in th' country are campin' on it--we _got_ to, that's all.