ant to do. When he became
convinced of this, he broke down utterly, and wept like a child,
declaring that now he knew my pluck, and I had been the first man ever
to get the best of him, he loved me like a brother!

"There was a long night before us, and I had got to sit there, with my
rifle across my knees, till morning. I could move a little, to stir up
or add to the fire; but he could have no liberty whatever. The restraint
was horrible to him. One moment he laughed uneasily--another cursed or
cried. It was a strange scene, wasn't it? Finally, to pass the time, I
asked him to relate the history of his life. He wanted first to shake
hands, for the love he bore me. Touching my rifle, significantly, I
pointed to a stick lying across the fire between us. 'That is our
boundary line; don't go to reaching your hands over that.' Then he sank
into a fit of gloom and sullenness.

"We must have remained thus silent until near midnight. Several times I
observed him listening to slight sounds outside the fort. But his
associates must have given up the game and gone off, for, as the morning
hours approached, he ceased to listen, and everything remained quiet.
His head was bent forward, his chin resting on his breast, the shaggy
beard spreading over it like a mantle."

"How horrible it must have been to keep such company. Why not call on
Edwards?"

"The boy was worn out, and there was no need. I was very much strung up,
too; so that the exhaustion of sleeplessness, fatigue, or excitement was
not felt or noticed. But _he_ suffered. He was like a hyena caged,
though he showed it only by involuntary movements and furtive glances.
Finally, he could bear it no longer, and entreated me piteously,
abjectly, to give him his freedom or blow out his brains. I told him he
couldn't have his freedom just yet; but he knew how to get his brains
blown out, if he desired it. Then followed more execration, ending in
renewed protestations of regard for me. I reminded him that talking
would relieve the irksomeness of his position, again inviting him to
tell me his history. He replied that if he talked about himself, he
would be sure to get excited and move about; but I promised to remind
him.

"Once on the subject of himself, it seemed to have a fascination for
him. What he told me was, in substance, this: He had been honestly
raised, by good, affectionate parents, in the State of Missouri; loved a
young girl in the town where he lived; and, wish