y boyish joys an' sorrows. We
had hunted together, an' slept under the same blanket ever since we
were big enough to walk. Oh! I was happy then! This earth seemed to me
a paradise. Now look at me--alone in the world, not one livin' bein'
to claim me as a relation; an' all this was brought upon me in a
single day.'

"Here the ole man stopped, an' buried his face in his hands; but,
suddenly arousin' himself, he continued,

"'One day, when the ice were a'most out of the river, father an' me
concluded it was about time to start on our usual tradin' expedition;
so we went to work an' got all our goods--which consisted of beads,
hatchets, lookin'-glasses, blankets, an' such like--into the big
canoe, an' were goin' to start 'arly in the mornin' to pay a visit to
the Osage Injuns, an' trade our things for their furs. That night,
while we were eatin' our supper, a party of horsemen came gallopin'
an' yellin' down the bank of the river, an', ridin' up to the door of
the cabin, dismounted, an', leavin' their horses to take care of
themselves, came in without ceremony. We knowed very well who they
were. They were a band of outlaws an' robbers, that had been in the
county ever since I could remember, an', bein' too lazy to make an
honest livin' by trappin', they went around plunderin' an' stealin'
from every one they come across. They had stole three or four horses
from us, an' had often come to our cabin an' called for whisky; but
that was an article father never kept on hand. Although he was an ole
trapper, an' had lived in the woods all his life, he never used it,
an' didn't believe in sellin' it to the red-skins. The captain of the
outlaws was a feller they called "Mountain Tom," an' he was meaner
than the meanest Injun I ever see. He didn't think no more of cuttin'
a man's throat than you would of shootin' a buck. The minute they came
into the cabin we could see that they had all been drinkin'. They
acted like a lot of wild buffalo-bulls, an', young as I was, I could
see that they meant mischief, an' I knowed that our chance for life
was small indeed. As I arterwards learned, they had been up the river,
about two miles, to a half-breed's shanty, an' had found half a barrel
of whisky, an', arter killin' the half-breed, an' drinkin' his liquor,
they felt jest right for a muss, an' had come down to our cabin on
purpose for a fight.

"'"Now, ole Lawson," said Mountain Tom, leanin' his rifle up in the
corner, "we have come down