y and the plain beyond.

He chose the spot as one capable of being defended against the Redskins,
never in those parts very friendly to white men,--especially towards
those whom they found settling themselves on lands which they looked
upon as their own hunting-grounds, although they could use them for no
other purpose.

Another reason which had induced Uncle Jeff to select this spot was,
that not far off was one of the only practicable passes through the
mountains either to the north or south, and that the trail to it led
close below us at the foot of the hills, so that every emigrant train or
party of travellers going to or from the Great Salt Lake or California
must pass in sight of the house.

A stream, issuing from the heights above, fell over the cliffs, forming
a roaring cataract; and then, rushing through the canon, made its way
down into the valley, irrigating and fertilizing the ground, until it
finally reached a large river, the Platte, flowing into the Missouri.
From this cataract our location obtained its name of "Roaring Water;"
but it was equally well known as "Uncle Jeff's Farm."

Our neighbours, if such they could be called in this wild region, were
"birds of passage." Now and then a few Indian families might fix their
tents in the valley below; or a party of hunters or trappers might
bivouac a night or two under the shelter of the woods, scattered here
and there; or travellers bound east or west might encamp by the margin
of the river for the sake of recruiting their cattle, or might
occasionally seek for shelter at the log-house which they saw perched
above them, where, in addition to comfortable quarters, abundant fare
and a hospitable welcome--which Uncle Jeff never refused to any one,
whoever he might be, who came to his door--were sure to be obtained.

But it is time that I should say something about the inmates of the
house at the period I am describing.

First, there was Uncle Jeff Crockett, a man of about forty-five, with a
tall, stalwart figure, and a handsome countenance (though scarred by a
slash from a tomahawk, and the claws of a bear with which he had had a
desperate encounter). A bright blue eye betokened a keen sight, as also
that his rifle was never likely to miss its aim; while his well-knit
frame gave assurance of great activity and endurance.

I was then about seventeen, and Uncle Jeff had more than once
complimented me by remarking that "I was a true chip of the old block,"