an oncommon mortal; neither Mingo, Delaware, nor pale-face. His
possession, too, has been long, by your tell, and altogether beyond
frontier endurance. What's the man's history and natur'?"

"Why, as to old Tom's human natur', it is not much like other men's
human natur', but more like a muskrat's human natar', seeing that
he takes more to the ways of that animal than to the ways of any
other fellow-creatur'. Some think he was a free liver on the salt
water, in his youth, and a companion of a sartain Kidd, who was
hanged for piracy, long afore you and I were born or acquainted,
and that he came up into these regions, thinking that the king's
cruisers could never cross the mountains, and that he might enjoy
the plunder peaceably in the woods."

"Then he was wrong, Hurry; very wrong. A man can enjoy plunder
peaceably nowhere."

"That's much as his turn of mind may happen to be. I've known
them that never could enjoy it at all, unless it was in the midst
of a jollification, and them again that enjoyed it best in a corner.
Some men have no peace if they don't find plunder, and some if they
do. Human nature' is crooked in these matters. Old Tom seems to
belong to neither set, as he enjoys his, if plunder he has really
got, with his darters, in a very quiet and comfortable way, and
wishes for no more."

"Ay, he has darters, too; I've heard the Delawares, who've hunted
this a way, tell their histories of these young women. Is there
no mother, Hurry?"