other; and so far I reckon
thar's a ballance in my favor, though the wretches are ever trying
desperate hard to get even. But come, stranger, it won't do for you to
be lying thar with that hole in your side; and so just have patience a
minute, till I've secured the top-knot of this beauty here, and then
I'll assist you down to yonder cabin, whar I doubt not you'll be well
cared for."

As he spoke, the old woodsman rose to his feet, drew his knife, and
turning to the dead Indian, to the surprise of the other, who was but
little familiar with Kentucky customs of that day, deliberately took off
the scalp, which he attached to his belt;[1] and then spurning the body
with his foot, he muttered: "Go, worthless dog! and fill the belly of
some wolf! and may your cowardly companion be soon keeping you company."
Then, as he turned to the other, and noticed his look of surprise, he
added: "Well, stranger, I reckon this business looks a little odd to
you, coming from away beyond the mountains as you do."

"Why, if truth must be told, I confess it does," answered the other.

"Don't doubt it, stranger; but you'll do it yourself afore you've
wintered here two seasons."

"I must beg leave to differ with you on that point."

"Well, well, we'll not quarrel about it--it arn't worth while; but ef
you stay here two year, without scalping a red-skin and perhaps skinning
one, I'll agree to pay you for your time in bar-skins at your own
valuation."

"I am much obliged to you for the offer," answered the young man--a
faint smile lighting his pale features; "but I think it hardly probable
I shall remain in the country that length of time."

"Not unless you have good care, I reckon," returned the other; "for that
thar wound o' yourn arn't none o' the slightest; though I don't want you
to be skeered, for I've seen many a worse one cured. But come, I'll
assist you down to yon cabin, and then I must be off--for I've got a
good distance to travel afore daylight to-morrow;" and bending down as
he spoke, the veteran hunter placed his arms under the arms of the
wounded man, and gently raised him upon his feet.

Although extremely weak from loss of blood, the latter, by this means of
support, was enabled to walk, at a slow pace; and the two descended the
hill--the elder, the while, talking much, and endeavoring by his
discourse to amuse and cheer up his companion.

"Why," he continued, "you think your case a hard one, no doubt,
stranger; but i