WHISKEY AND BLOODSHED. 351 



say, that he could cat us up altogether. My blood 

 was already on the boil. Still it was clearly no 

 business of mine ; a somewhat ruder practical joke at 

 length awoke the sleeper, who was a strong-built man. 

 lie was still the butt of their wit, while yawning and 

 stretching his limbs, till suddenly on looking round 

 on the circle, he seemed to catch a glimmering of 

 what had taken place. His yawning was checked, 

 and looking round attentively, he listened to their 

 remarks, when the greatest braggart amongst them 

 stepped up to him, and laughing in his face, wished 

 him a good morning ; in another instant, he lay 

 bleeding on the ground from a blow of the sleeper's 

 fist. This was the signal for a general row, and nine 

 blades glittered in the rays of the setting sun. My 

 knife was out as quickly as any of the others, and we 

 had a regular hand-to-hand combat ; as long as I live 

 I hope never to see such another. It all passed so 

 quickly, tli.it I can only recollect that I defended 

 myself again-t two tall fellows, that my left hand 

 pained me much, and that one of my opponents 

 uttered a loud cry. At this instant a shot was heard, 

 and one of the strangers reeled and jell; it acted like 

 an electric stroke on both parlies; all the knives were 

 lowered, and every one appeared to be interested about 

 the. wounded man. The sleeper lo>l no time in 

 throwing himself on his horse, which was tied up at 

 the gate, and soon vani>hed in the forest. All were 

 sobered in an instant, yet no one thought of giving 

 chase ; all were intent on endeavoring to ,-ave the 

 wounded man. Hut in vain : as the sun sank behind 

 a ranire of red clouds he breathed his last. 



