CHAPTER VIII. 



OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 



I CARRIED out my resolution, to get at all that could be 

 reached concerning the history of Bill Smith. On a new ex- 

 cursion, I saw and made my peace with Uncle Jake — the one 

 of his old comrades who had most of his confidence, and who 

 lived nearest to the concluding scenes of his life. My friend 

 Charlie and myself spent a week with him this time, and we 

 were even successful, after the first day, in reconciling to us 

 our old acquaintance and guide, Jabe, in spite of the terrible 

 fright we had given him through my phrenological enthusiasm. 

 Jabe seemed to have come, finally, to the logical conclusion, 

 that, as the ghost had not yet ridden us into our graves, that 



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