as the buck stuck his nose in the drink I drew a bead upon his top-knot, and over he tumbled, and splurged and bounded awhile, when I came up and relieved him by cutting his wizen—”

“Well, but what has that to do with an adventure?” said Riley.

“Hold on a bit, if you please, gentlemen; by Jove, it had a great deal to do with it. For while I was busy skinning the hind-quarters of the buck, and stowing away the kidney-fat in my hunting-shirt, I heard a noise like the breaking of brush under a moccasin up ‘the bottom.’ My dog heard it, and started up to reconnoitre, and I lost no time in reloading my rifle. I had hardly got my priming out before my dog raised a howl and broke through the brush towards me with his tail down, as he was not used to doing unless there were wolves, painters [panthers], or Injins about.

“I picked up my knife, and took up my line of march in a skulking trot up the river. The frequent gullies on the lower bank made it tedious travelling there, so I scrabbled up to the upper bank, which was pretty well covered with buckeye and sycamore, and very little underbrush. One peep below discovered to me three as big and strapping red rascals, gentlemen, as you ever clapped your eyes on! Yes, there they came, not above six hundred yards in my rear, shouting and yelling like hounds, and coming after me like all possessed.”

“Well,” said an old woodsman, sitting at the table, “you took a tree, of course.”

“Did I? No, gentlemen, I took no tree just then, but I took to my heels like sixty, and it was just as much as my old dog could do to keep up with me. I ran until the whoops of my red-skins grew fainter and fainter behind me, and, clean out of wind, I ventured to look behind me, and there came one single red whelp, puffing and blowing, not three hundred yards in my rear. He had got on to a piece of bottom where the trees were small and scarce. ‘Now,’ thinks I, ‘old fellow, I’ll have you.’ So I trotted off at a pace sufficient to let my follower gain on me, and when he had got just about near enough I wheeled and fired, and down I brought him, dead as a door-nail, at a hundred and twenty yards!”

“Then you skelp’d [scalped] him immediately?” said the back-woodsman.

“Very clear of it, gentlemen; for by the time I got my rifle loaded, here came the other two red-skins, shouting and whooping close on me, and away I broke again like a quarter-horse. I was now about five miles from the settlement, and it was getting towards sunset. I ran till my wind began to be pretty short, when I took a look back, and there they came, snorting like mad buffaloes, one about two or three hundred yards ahead of the other: so I acted possum again until the foremost Injin got pretty well up, and I wheeled and fired at the very moment he was ‘drawing a bead’ on me: he fell head over stomach into the dirt, and up came the last one!”

“So you laid for him, and—” gasped several.

“No,” continued the “member,” “I didn’t lay for him, I hadn’t time to load, so I laid my legs to ground and started again. I heard every bound he made after me. I ran and ran until the fire flew out of my eyes, and the old dog’s tongue hung out of his mouth a quarter of a yard long!”

“Phe-e-e-e-w!” whistled somebody.

“Fact, gentlemen. Well, what I was to do I didn’t know: rifle empty, no big trees about, and a murdering red Indian not three hundred yards in my rear; and what was worse, just then it occurred to me that I was not a great ways from a big creek (now called Mill Creek), and there I should be pinned at last.

“Just at this juncture, I struck my toe against a root, and down I tumbled, and my old dog over me. Before I could scrabble up—”

“The Indian fired!” gasped the old woodsman.