Hills and Lakes. 



flames of my home, and yelled, while my kindred's 

 bodies were consumin'. I needn't tell you more. 



" ' Joe,' said the old man, as he sunk his head 

 down between his hands, ' of them eight Ingens that I 

 counted that night, not one sleeps with his tribe, and 

 may be the bones of a good many more, lay scattered 

 about in the Shatagee country. 'Twas a wrong thing, 

 as I look upon it now, and I'm sorry I slew 'em. But 

 I was mad then. The murder of my family made me 

 crazy in my hatred, of the Ingens, and I thought I 

 heard the spirits of those I loved, callin' to me for ven- 

 geance. That cloud has passed away from my heart 

 now, and if I could undo what I've done, I'd gladly 

 do it. But it's too late.' 



'' The old man sat silent for a long time, with his 

 head leanin' forward, and his face concealed in the 

 palms of his hands ; I saw the tears fall in big drops 

 from between his fingers. I did not disturb him, for 

 I saw memory was busy with him. I thought may be 

 his heart was away to his boyhood's home, that his 

 mother was readin' to him from the good book, and 

 uis little brother, and flaxen-haired, soft- voiced sisters, 

 were around him. It's a sorrowful thing. Squire, to 

 see a strong man weep ; to see his iron frame throwin' 



