waited under arms for some time, and then finding that the enemy did not
seem inclined to approach, we posted sentries all round, with directions
to keep a strict lookout, and to give notice directly they perceived any
suspicious movement below, and then we once more sat down round our
fire. Our number was increased by the stranger, of whom we had not till
then had time to take any notice beyond observing that he was a white
man, and that he was dressed in the usual rough costume of a trapper.
We now perceived, as he sat close up to the fire with the palms of his
hands spread out before it, that he looked famished and weary.

"Friend, thou art hungry," said Obed, placing before him some dried
deers' flesh and biscuit, and filling him up a cup of spirits-and-water.
"Eat that while we cook a more savoury mess."

"Thank you," said the stranger; "you have discovered my chief want."

He showed that he spoke the truth by setting to work silently and
heartily on the food like a man who had fasted long, and was in no way
fastidious as to the nature of his provender, so that it was fit to
support life. I have often felt ashamed of my civilised and refined
friends as well as of myself, when I have watched the abstemious habits
of those inhabitants of the backwoods. However varied, or however
delicate, or highly flavoured the food placed before them, I have seen
them over and over again sit down and help themselves to the nearest
dish, eat as much as they required, and generally a very moderate
quantity, and then perhaps, after taking a glass of cold water, get up
and leave the table. We waited till the stranger had somewhat recovered
his strength before asking him any questions. At last he stopped
eating, gave his hunting-knife a turn or two over his legging, replaced
it in its sheath, and looking up, said--"Well, friends, you've saved my
life; I've to thankyou for that--not that I know that it is worth much;
and now I guess you'd like to know where I come from, and what I've been
about."

We all told him that we should particularly like to hear something about
him.

"Then I'll tell," he replied. "My name is Sam Short; I'm a free
trapper; I've hunted this country, man and boy, for pretty well fifty
years, and that's a good slice in a man's life. It was at the end of
last fall that I and two companions started westward to trap beavers and
shoot bears, or any other game which came in our way. We'd left our
horses and