more nor less than a foolish woman lost in the snow. Then he said,
"Light, stranger, and look at your saddle." So I "lit" and looked, and
then I asked him what part of the South he was from. He answered, "Yell
County, by gum! The best place in the United States, or in the world,
either." That was my introduction to Zebulon Pike Parker.

Only two "Johnny Rebs" could have enjoyed each other's company as
Zebulon Pike and myself did. He was so small and so old, but so
cheerful and so sprightly, and a real Southerner! He had a big, open
fireplace with backlogs and andirons. How I enjoyed it all! How we
feasted on some of the deer killed "yisteddy," and real corn-pone baked
in a skillet down on the hearth. He was so full of happy recollections
and had a few that were not so happy! He is, in some way, a kinsman of
Pike of Pike's Peak fame, and he came west "jist arter the wah" on some
expedition and "jist stayed." He told me about his home life back in
Yell County, and I feel that I know all the "young uns."

There was George Henry, his only brother; and there were Phoebe and
"Mothie," whose real name is Martha; and poor little Mary Ann, whose
death was described so feelingly that no one could keep back the
tears. Lastly there was little Mandy, the baby and his favorite, but
who, I am afraid, was a selfish little beast since she had to have her
prunellas when all the rest of the "young uns" had to wear shoes that
old Uncle Buck made out of rawhide. But then "her eyes were blue as
morning-glories and her hair was jist like corn-silk, so yaller and
fluffy." Bless his simple, honest heart! His own eyes are blue and
kind, and his poor, thin little shoulders are so round that they almost
meet in front. How he loved to talk of his boyhood days! I can almost
see his father and George Henry as they marched away to the "wah"
together, and the poor little mother's despair as she waited day after