k, which is a small iron hatchet used by most of
the Indians of North America as a battle-axe. There is an iron pipe
bowl on the top of the weapon, and the handle, which is hollow, answers
the purpose of a pipe stem.

The hunter continued to smoke, and Marston continued to gaze at him till
he fell asleep. When he awoke, Bounce was still smoking his tomahawk in
the self-same attitude. The youth might have concluded that he had been
asleep only a few minutes and that his friend had never moved; but he
was of an observant nature, and noticed that there was a savoury,
well-cooked buffalo-steak near the fire, and that a strong odour of
marrow-bones tickled his nostrils--also, that the sun no longer rested
on the green bank opposite. Hence, he concluded that he must have slept
a considerable time, and that the tomahawk had been filled and emptied
more than once.

"Well, lad," said Bounce, looking round, "had a comf'rable nap?"

"How did you know I was awake?" said March. "You weren't looking at me,
and I didn't move."

"P'r'aps not, lad; but you winked."

"And, pray, how did you know that?"

"'Cause ye couldn't wink if ye wos asleep, an' I heerd ye breathe
diff'rent from afore, so I know'd ye wos awake; an' I knows that a man
always winks w'en he comes awake, d'ye see? That's wot I calls the
feelosophy of obsarvation."

"Very good," replied Marston, "and, that bein' the case, I should like
much to try a little of the `feelosophy' of supper."

"Right, lad, here you are; there's nothin' like it," rejoined Bounce,
handing a pewter plate of juicy steak and marrow-bones to his young
companion.

Marston attained a sitting posture with much difficulty and pain; but
when he had eaten the steak and the marrow-bones he felt much better;
and when he had swallowed a cup of hot tea (for they carried a small
quantity of tea and sugar with them, by way of luxury), he felt
immensely better; and when he finally lay down for the night he felt
perfectly well--always excepting a sensation of general batteredness
about the back, and a feeling of rusty-hinges-wanting-oiliness in the
region of the neck.

"Now, Bounce," said he, as he lay down and pulled his blanket over his
shoulder, "are the horses hobbled and the rifles loaded, and my mother's
hump out o' the way of wolves?"

"All right, lad."

"Then, Bounce, you go ahead and tell me a story till I'm off asleep.
Don't stop tellin' till I'm safe off. Pull my nose to make sur