pect of a rich
harvest of furs and venison. He had not proceeded far before he saw a
fine buck, which had come to the creek to drink. He instantly raised his
trusty gun to his face. A flash and report, and the noble animal fell
dead upon the bank of the stream. The day had now far advanced, and he
drew his knife from its sheath and dressed his venison with dispatch. He
then hung up three of the quarters upon the trees, cutting off a limb to
form a hook on which it would hang safely from the wolves that were
nightly prowling along the stream. He then took the remaining quarter
and wrapped it up in the skin of the buck, retired into a thick, dark
swamp that lay near the stream, until he reached a large, spreading
hemlock, that afforded a convenient resting-place at its root. Here, in
this dense thicket, he built a small fire, examined his trusty gun, and
laid down to rest. He afterward said he used every caution, for he had
three enemies upon his track--the panther, the wolf and the red man. The
night seemed to pass away quietly, excepting the howling of a wolf
occasionally upon a distant hill, which gave him no uneasiness. Rosy
morn soon appeared, and he could see the sun send his blush upon the
highest hills, from his camping-ground in the swamp. He then prepared
his breakfast, and feasted on the loin of the buck that he had killed
the day previous. Emerging from the swamp, he intended to examine his
traps, and then take the skin of the buck and the choicest part of the
venison to his family. In this calculation he was sadly disappointed;
for, as he proceeded along a path near the stream, suddenly three Indian
warriors appeared in the path before him. He walked directly up to the
party and said, "Good morning, brothers." They returned the compliment
by saying, "Good morning, brother." One of the party said, "Let me see
your gun." He handed it out. The Indian took from his pocket a knife and
turned back the screws that held the lock, and then took the lock and
put it in his pocket, handing the gun back to Mayall, informing him that
he must go with them. Mayall bit his lips in silence, to think a hunter
who had faced his enemies in every form could be so easily frustrated in
his plans. They then informed him that they were on the war-path and he
must consider himself their prisoner, to which he made no reply.

They immediately commenced their march in the following order: the
stoutest Indian led the march, next came Mayall