MIKE FINK, THE KEEL-BOATMAN. 167 
“ What's the use of improvements ? 
“When did cutting down trees make deer more 
plenty ? 
“ Who ever found wild buffalo, or a brave Indian, 
in a city? Where’s the fun, the frolicking, the fight- 
ing? Gone! Gone! 
“The rifle won’t make a man a living now—he 
must turn mule and work. If forests continue this way 
to be used up, I may yet be smothered in a settlement. 
Boys, this ’ere life won’t do. I'll stick to the broad- 
horn ’cordin’ to contract ; but once done with it, I’m off 
for a frolic. If the Choctas or Cherokees on the Mas- 
sissip don’t give us a brush as we pass along, I shall 
grow as poor as a starved wolf in a pitfall. 
“‘T must, to live peaceably, point my rifle at some- 
thing more dangerous than varmint. Six months and 
no fight, would spile me worse than a ’tack of rheuma- 
tism.” 
Mike ceased speaking. The then beautiful village 
of Louisville appeared in sight ; the labor of landing the 
boat occupied his attention—the bustle and confusion 
that followed such an incident ensued; and Mike was his 
own master by law, until his employers ceased trafficking, 
and again required his services. 
At the time we write of,a great many renegade In- 
dians lived about the settlements, which is still the case 
in the extreme southwest. These Indians are generally 
the most degraded of their tribe—outcasts, who, for 
