78 Hills AND Lakes. 



him under a great maple, on the banks of the Shata- 

 gee, and the only land I ever paid for, is four rods 

 square around his grave, I gave a ten dollar bear 

 skin for that, and I've told my children to see that the 

 old maple remains undisturbed, over the old man's 

 resting place. I buried him seven years ago, and 

 when the summer comes, I miss my old comrade of 

 the woods. It's lonesome on the hills now. I miss 

 the old man's huntin' stories and his knowin' ways. 

 I can't go alone after the moose in the winter, and 

 somehow I don't fancy huntin' them with anybody 

 else. He knowed all about the critters. Huntin' 

 them came kind a nateral to him, and I used to think 

 he could smell a moose, as ffir as the critter could 

 smell him." "It Avas curious," continued he, "how old 

 Pete and I took to one another, and while he was old 

 enough to be my grandfather, he always wanted me 

 along, when he took to the woods. I mind once we 

 was down the Hudson, below the falls, where they 

 take people across the river in a boat. We had'nt 

 sixpence between us, and the ferryman would' nt carry 

 us over short of a shillin'. We had our rifles, new 

 ones they were too. Our business down, had been 

 to buy 'em at Saratoga, and that's what had taken 



