rth bare at
a blow, has been here and swept the country, in very mockery of their
wickedness. They will turn on their tracks like a fox that doubles, and
then the rank smell of their own footsteps will show them the madness of
their waste. Howsomever, these are thoughts that are more likely to rise
in him who has seen the folly of eighty seasons, than to teach wisdom to
men still bent on the pleasures of their kind! You have need, yet, of
a stirring time, if you think to escape the craft and hatred of the
burnt-wood Indians. They claim to be the lawful owners of this country,
and seldom leave a white more than the skin he boasts of, when once they
get the power, as they always have the will, to do him harm."

"Old man," said Ishmael sternly, "to which people do you belong? You
have the colour and speech of a Christian, while it seems that your
heart is with the redskins."

"To me there is little difference in nations. The people I loved most
are scattered as the sands of the dry river-beds fly before the fall
hurricanes, and life is too short to make use and custom with strangers,
as one can do with such as he has dwelt amongst for years. Still am I a
man without the cross of Indian blood; and what is due from a warrior
to his nation, is owing by me to the people of the States; though little
need have they, with their militia and their armed boats, of help from a
single arm of fourscore."

"Since you own your kin, I may ask a simple question. Where are the
Siouxes who have stolen my cattle?"

"Where is the herd of buffaloes, which was chased by the panther across
this plain, no later than the morning of yesterday? It is as hard--"

"Friend," said Dr. Battius, who had hitherto been an attentive listener,
but who now felt a sudden impulse to mingle in the discourse, "I
am grieved when I find a venator or hunter, of your experience and
observation, following the current of vulgar error. The animal you
describe is in truth a species of the bos ferus, (or bos sylvestris, as
he has been happily called by the poets,) but, though of close affinity,
it is altogether distinct from the common bubulus. Bison is the better
word; and I would suggest the necessity of adopting it in future, when
you shall have occasion to allude to the species."

"Bison or buffaloe, it makes but little matter. The creatur' is the
same, call it by what name you will, and--"

"Pardon me, venerable venator; as classification is the very soul of
th