back to where the baggage lay, he took his sketch-book from the saddle-bags, and bestowed it carefully in the pocket of his huntingcoat. "When they find my body," he coolly soliloquized, "they will be enabled to recognize it by this." And then saying good-by to the horses, he hastily followed his companions down the precipice.

It would be a task far beyond the powers of our unskillful pen to describe that trying and hazardous tramp. To tell how they groped, in utter darkness, along the brink of that savage torrent, periling life and limb at every movement; how they crawled and struggled through dense thickets that during the passage seemed interminable; how they fell from slippery rocks, and were plunged waist-deep into foaming pools, and still kept on their way, reeking with toil, while their outer garments were frozen hard as boards; and when the stream grew larger, and they dared not attempt to stem the furious current, how they were forced to climb ragged cliffs, and creep along the verge of overhanging precipices, feeling cautiously for a place to plant each step; and when the advanced foot found no resting-place, and the turmoil of the waters rose loud and clear from a chasm of unknown depth, how the wanderer would start back with a thrill of terror, painfully and warily to seek some other road. Still they moved, for the most part, in silence. No one uttered a complaint; and when a voice was raised to call up a loiterer, or give warning of a danger, the tones were gruff and manly.

Thus the younger men tugged on with slow and dogged perseverance, but the good old Squire-the man of easy life and luxurious hab

At length the cold, solemn face of the moon appeared over the awful heights from which they had descended. Although her presence was inspiriting, the few straggling and deceitful beams which reached the dark gorge threw but little light upon the path of the wanderers. Then after a time the route became more practicable. The ravine widened, and on either side of the stream were long stretches of open forest, and every heart leaped as they discovered a path-its-what carried him through this trying night? way evidently worn by human feet. Believing their toil was about to end, for a while they gave themselves up to jollity, but the path, at length, terminated at a sugar-camp. The sight of a couple of tenantless, half-ruined cabins froze their new-blown hopes, and they resumed their march, dispirited and forlorn. The valley again closed up, and they found themselves again struggling through a narrow gorge, surrounded with difficulties and dangers similar to those which had beset their way at the starting; and these even on a grander scale.

However strong may be the instinctive love of life in the human breast, it often fails men in desperate emergencies, and they will lie down quietly and die, when a spirited effort might have saved them. But we find in some characters a stubborn will, an unreasoning tenacity of purpose, which sustains when the common instinct of self-preservation has failed, and urges onward when the ordinary limits of human endurance are passed.

The Squire was generally behind, and rarely spoke. Sometimes, however, he seemed to get dreamy and credulous, calling to his companions that he heard dogs barking, or had discovered paths, which, upon examination, turned out to be fancies-based, possibly, upon the distant hooting of owls, and the deceptive appearances of moonlight.

Sometimes, too, the young men were startled by the lofty strains of some old ballad resounding through the forest; but after two or three bars, this usually terminated with a crash or a splash; then some half-suppressed groans and muttered anathemas. Occasionally he would sink down upon the hill-side, lying for a time motionless, as if unconscious of his condition, or careless whether he should ever rise again. Then starting up suddenly, he would resume his march with renewed pluck and energy. What stirred him at such moments-freshened the current of his blood, and nerved his failing limbs? Who knows? Some trifling thing it

may have been-a thought-a dream-a child's dimpled hand that beckoned-a blue-bird voice that whispered, "We're waiting for you, Papa! Be brave-be strong!"

The three travelers were at length assembled upon the brow of a cliff, and one after another sunk down like men who had made their last effort.

"I'll go no farther," said the Tennesseean; "I'll lie here and take my chance."

"That's it!" cried Squire Broadacre; "you've named it."

"Men alive!" screamed the old woman, holding up her hands. "Come down thar, and at night, too! and ye're not dead ?”

"No," replied Jones; "but I'm afraid our horses are. We left them tied near the head of this stream."

"Then the bars and painters has eat 'em, certain," said the boy. "Hit's a mighty place

"You'll freeze to death in an hour," said for wild varmints up thar." Larkin.

"Freezing, they say, is not a hard deathcertainly not so hard as the life we've led for some hours."

"Now," said Squire Broadacre, "I am persuaded that I see a path there, just above us, on the hill-side."

"What's the use of a path to a man who can walk no more?" said Jones, in a tone of deep despondency.

"Uncle," said Larkin, "the tracks of the deer and wild hogs deceive you. It will lead to nothing."

"Has it come to this?" quoth the Squire; "must an old fat fogy like myself be the last to yield? Shame on you, boys! Give me a hand here, and help me to rise."

Bob sprang up in a moment and helped the Squire on his pegs. The path was examined, but whether it was worn by pigs or deer they could not make out. However, as it led down the hill by an easy grade, they agreed to follow it.

As they wound around the point of the hill, Larkin, who was in front, gave a sudden joyous whoop that made the welkin ring, exclaiming, "A light! a light!"

The shout was answered by the loud baying of dogs. Oh faithful guardians of the night, how often has that warning voice brought cheer to the heart of the midnight wanderer, turning him from dark and dangerous paths and guiding him to the welcome shelter!

As the visitors sat by the blazing fire, picking the ice from their matted hair and beards, detailing their adventures by snatches, the cottagers stared and listened with awe-stricken countenances, as the fascinated wedding-guest hearkened to the tale of the Ancient Mariner, half doubtful of his claim to human brotherhood.

As there seemed to be no preparation for supper going on, the demand for food was reiterated in form, when, to their surprise and disappointment, old Chandler informed them that there was nothing to eat on the premises. At this the Tennesseean bent his brows and observed, fiercely, that it was as easy to take it as to ask for it. The old man looked alarmed.

'Men," said he, "you may kill me if you can find any thing to eat here, except a sack of corn in the ear, and them pumpkins in the cor-ner there."

He was so evidently in earnest that his guests listened respectfully to the rest of his speech. Thus he continued:

"If you can wait till they are cooked, you're welcome to them; but, if you'll listen to me, you can do better, if you can make out to walk over to Kan Foster's-only a mile from here. Kan has plenty to eat; and if there's a man in these mountains that can save your horses that man is Kan Foster."

This last suggestion touched our travelers to the quick, and as the boy very civilly offered to be their guide, and promised a fair road, they concluded to go on. Their limbs had already begun to stiffen, but, under the influences of the bright moonlight and cheerful prospects, the

The men that before could not walk broke down the hill in a lively trot, and they were soon at the cabin-door knocking for admittance. An old man opened the door, and as the fire-distance was soon accomplished. light flashed upon the haggard faces of the trayelers, he started back in terror.

Now, with what old Chandler had told them, and the wonderful stories with which their guide "Food, fire, and rest!" cried the Tennesseean, enlivened the walk, the travelers approached the as they rushed in.

An old woman, with a grown-up boy and girl, were added to the party in a moment, all looking somewhat aghast at the new-comers.

"Whose house is this? and where are we?" "This is Chandler's, Sir, on Indian Creek, at the foot of the Bald. And you, men, who mought you be?"

"Benighted travelers, ready to perish with cold, hunger, and fatigue. We lost our horses in the mountain, and came down this valley to the right-"

"Good Lord!" whispered the elder, in a husky voice. "Did ye come down the Tumbling Fork?"

group of cabins which constituted the establishment of the mountain hero with feelings of lively interest and curiosity.

Although it was near midnight when they arrived, the door of the principal cabin stood open, and, by the glare of the blazing hearth, they saw two persons engaged in skinning a wild hog. The woman steadied the carcass by the hind legs, while the man, holding a bloody huntingknife between his teeth, with arms bared and gory to the elbow, kneeled at the head of the slaughtered animal.

At the first signal whoop he sprung to his feet, took the knife out of his mouth, and shouted the welcome "Come in!"

of his face, that warmed like the glow of his blazing chimney.

shelter."

66

Friends," said the mountaineer, "I rejoice that fortune has led you to the door of my poor cabin. You are at home; the house and all that is in it is at your service."

This person was of the middle height, of a keen and wiry build, his every motion betokening promptness, activity, and resolution in the Our friends told their story briefly: "Stranhighest degree. His features, though weather-gers, lost in the mountains, in want of food and beaten, were regularly handsome, partly covered with a short black and grizzled beard, and his black eye glittered like a hawk's. His dress consisted of a nondescript hat and a well-worn suit of tawny-colored mountain jeans, made hunting-shirt fashion, and girt about the waist with a leathern belt which bore his knife-sheath. It needed not young Chandler's introduction to tell that this was Kan Foster. There was a free, frank, hearty hospitality, even in the expression

His smiling dame seconded her lord's welcome with cheerful alacrity, and having aroused her eldest daughter, a comely lass of seventeen, they retired to an adjoining cabin, and in a short time the guests were invited in to supper. Now

Now the artist found himself in clover. There was Foster's brood to begin with-nine in numLong before the dawn Foster had equipped ber-a likely set, and the younger children enhimself, filling his pockets with corn for the dowed with singular beauty. It appeared, too. horses, and, with his eldest son, started for the that there was a tub-mill belonging to the mountmountain. aineer's establishment, and thither came the Their excessive fatigue, and the excitement neighbors from far and near-some mounted