man to come to him at Carrick,
if he wanted to say anything. The man, however, continued, "av his
honer wouldn't think it too much throuble jist to come down for one
moment, he'd point out the cabin which he meant." Keegan was now sure
from the man's continuing to keep his hand on the bridle, that some
injury to him was intended, and was in the act of drawing his pistol
from his pocket, when he was knocked altogether from off his horse by
a blow which he received on the head with a large stone, thrown from
the other side of one of the banks which ran along the road. The blow
and the fall completely stunned him, and when he came to himself he
was lying on the road; the man who had stopped his horse was kneeling
on his chest; a man, whose face was blackened, was holding down
his two feet, and a third, whose face had also been blackened,
was kneeling on the road beside him with a small axe in his hand.
Keegan's courage utterly failed him when he saw the sharp instrument
in the ruffian's grasp; he began to promise largely if they would let
him escape--forgiveness--money--land--anything--everything for his
life. Neither of them, however, answered him, and before the first
sentence he uttered was well out of his mouth, the instrument fell on
his leg, just above the ankle, with all the man's force; the first
blow only cut his trousers and his boot, and bruised him sorely,--for
his boots protected him; the second cut the flesh, and grated against
the bone; in vain he struggled violently, and with all the force of
a man struggling for his life; a third, and a fourth, and a fifth
descended, crushing the bone, dividing the marrow, and ultimately
severing the foot from the leg. When they had done their work, they
left him on the road, till some passer by should have compassion on
him, and obtain for him the means of conveyance to his home.

In a short time Keegan fainted from loss of blood, but the cold frost
soon brought him to his senses; he got up and hobbled to the nearest
cabin, dragging after him the mutilated foot, which still attached
itself to his body by the cartilages and by the fragments of his
boot and trousers; and from thence reached his home on a country car,
racked by pain, which the jolting of the car and the sharp frost did
not tend to assuage.

At the time of which we are writing--about the first week in
March--he had been entirely unable to ascertain any of the party by
whom he had been attacked. The men were