LIFE IN THE FAR WEST 175 



they accepted the invitation of the Capen (as they called 

 the Scotchman) to " take a horn of liquor." Killbuck 

 and La Bonte sat in the same position as when we first 

 surprised them asleep under the shadow of Independence 

 Rock, regarding the profuse display of comestibles with 

 scarce-believing eyes, and childishly helpless from the 

 novelty of the scene. Each took the proffered half- 

 pint cup, filled to the brim with excellent brandy (no 

 tee-totallers they !) looked once at the amber-coloured 

 surface, and with the usual mountain pledge of " here's 

 luck !" tossed off the grateful liquor at a breath. This 

 prepared them in some measure for what was yet in 

 store for them. The Scotchman bestirred the cook in 

 his work, and soon sundry steaming pots were lifted 

 from the fire, and the skillets emptied of their bread 

 the contents of the former poured in large flat pans, 

 while panikins were filled with smoking coffee. The 

 two trappers needed no second invitation, but, seizing 

 each a panful of steaming stew, drew the butcher-knives 

 from their belts, and fell-to lustily the hospitable 

 Scotchman plying them with more and more, and 

 administering corrective noggins of brandy the while ; 

 until at last they were fain to cry " enough," wiped their 

 knives on the grass, and placed them in their sheaths 

 a sign that human nature could no more. How can 

 pen describe the luxury of the smoke that followed, to 

 lips which had not kissed pipe for many months, and 

 how the fragrant honey-dew from Old Virginia was 

 relishingly puffed ! 



But the Scotchman's bounty did not stop here. He 



