be out. Now, will you try,
my son?"

"Mother," replied Two-feet-ten earnestly (and becoming at least two feet
eleven while he spoke), "I'll try!"

This ended the conversation at that time, and we beg leave to apologise
to our reader for having given it in such full detail, but we think it
necessary to the forming of a just appreciation of our hero and his
mother, as it shows one phase of their characters better than could have
been accomplished by a laboured description.

Before March Marston had attained to the age of sixteen he had read
aloud to his mother--not once, but several times--the "Vicar of
Wakefield", "Robinson Crusoe," the "Pilgrim's Progress," and "Tales of a
Grandfather", "Aesop's Fables," and a variety of tales and stories and
histories of lesser note--all of which he stored up in a good memory,
and gave forth in piecemeal to his unlettered companions as opportunity
offered. Better than all this, he had many and many a time read his
Bible through, and was familiar with all its leading heroes and
histories and anecdotes.

Thus, it will be seen that March Marston was quite a learned youth for a
backwoodsman, besides being a hero and a "madman."

CHAPTER TWO.

THE GREAT PRAIRIE--A WILD CHASE--A REMARKABLE ACCIDENT AND AN
EXTRAORDINARY CHARGER, ALL OF WHICH TERMINATE IN A CRASH--BOUNCE TALKS
PHILOSOPHY AND TELLS OF TERRIBLE THINGS--OUR HERO DETERMINES TO BEARD
THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST IN HIS OWN DEN.

The rising sun lifted his head above the horizon of the great western
prairie, gilding the upper edges of those swelling undulations that bear
so strong a resemblance to solidified billows as to have acquired the
name of prairie waves.

On the sunny side of these waves the flowerets of the plains were
already basking in full enjoyment of the new day; on the summits only
the tips of their petals were turned to gold. On the other side of
those waves, and down in the hollows, everything was clothed in deep
shadow, as if the still undissipated shades of night were lingering
there, unwilling or unable to depart from so beautiful a scene. This
mingling of strong lights and deep shadows had the effect of rendering
more apparent the tremendous magnitude of those vast solitudes.

There were no trees within the circuit of vision, but there were a few
scattered bushes, so low and insignificant in appearance as to be quite
unobvious to the eye, except when close to the feet of the spectator.
Near to a c