close of the sentence in such an undertone as to leave nothing audible
but the grumbling sounds of his voice.

“Nay, Natty,” rejoined the traveller, with undisturbed good-humor, “it
is for the honor that I contend. A few dollars will pay for the
venison; but what will requite me for the lost honor of a buck’s tail
in my cap? Think, Natty, how I should triumph over that quizzing dog,
Dick Jones, who has failed seven times already this season, and has
only brought in one woodchuck and a few gray squirrels.”

“Ah! The game is becoming hard to find, indeed, Judge, with your
clearings and betterments,” said the old hunter, with a kind of
compelled resignation. “The time has been when I have shot thirteen
deer without counting the fa’ns standing in the door of my own hut;
and for bear’s meat, if one wanted a ham or so, he had only to watch
a-nights, and he could shoot one by moonlight, through the cracks of
the logs, no fear of his oversleeping himself neither, for the howling
of the wolves was sartin to keep his eyes open. There’s old Hector”—
patting with affection a tall hound of black and yellow spots, with
white belly and legs, that just then came in on the scent, accompanied
by the slut he had mentioned; “see where the wolves bit his throat,
the night I druv them from the venison that was smoking on the chimney
top—that dog is more to be trusted than many a Christian man; for he
never forgets a friend, and loves the hand that gives him bread,”

There was a peculiarity in the manner of the hunter that attracted the
notice of the young female, who had been a close and interested
observer of his appearance and equipments, from the moment he came
into view. He was tall, and so meagre as to make him seem above even
the six feet that he actually stood in his stockings. On his head,