A SPORTING EXCURSION. 137 



had'nt built stone houses away up here, to keep bad 

 men in, from doin' mischief. The place where Clin- 

 ton Prison stands, was ten good miles outside of a 

 fence, and a man had to travel fifteen long ones, out- 

 side of a road or clearin', to get to the Shazee. Those 

 men from the city, were green enough in our forest 

 ways, but they wanted to learn, and had the real grit 

 in 'em, too, only it wanted bringin' out. They'd been 

 raised in the city, in a human way, and without bein' 

 spoiled, and did'nt calculate they know'd more, and 

 were better'n everybody else. I was down at Platts- 

 burgh when they came there, and hearin' them talk- 

 in' about a guide, I told 'em of old Pete Meigs. I 

 knew the old man was home, for I talked with him 

 on my way, in the morning. They got a team, and I 

 went with them to old Pete's, and we struck a bar- 

 gain, he to go with 'em as a guide, and I as a kind of 

 pack-horse, to carry the provisions, and the other 

 things needful. I did'nt take my rifle that trip, for 

 the Yorkers being unused to travelin' in the woods, 

 old Pete and I, had to tote the fixins. Next morning 

 bright and early, we started for the Shazee. We had 

 fifteen long miles afore us, without a path, over high 

 hills and clown into the deep valleys, crossin' the 



