CORPORAL HENRY R. NEAVILLE. 191 



drowned; I know he is, and all on account of my fool- 

 ishness!" 



I consoled him as well as possible by saying that his 

 brother was a good swimmer and must be on land below 

 the bend, and then we heard his yell: "Yee-e-e hoo-ooo," 

 and answered it. We went down to him, and found that 

 the boat and one oar was all there was left, except the 

 three strings of fish which were tied to the gunwale. 



"Well, we might as well go on home," said Frank. 



I thought a moment and said: "You boys can go if 

 you like, but my rifle is in the sloo near the tree top, and 

 I'm goin' to stay on this island and try to get it when 

 morning comes." 



The boys decided to remain after I produced a little 

 bottle of matches a trick learned from my old precep- 

 tor, Port Tyler. Said Port: "You don't never want to 

 go a-shootin' nur a-fishin' with yer matches loose in yer 

 pocket, nur in one o' them metal match boxes ; they leak, 

 an' if ye get caught in a rain or tumble in the crick yer 

 matches are all wet when ye want 'em most." The les- 

 son had been firmly implanted by a neglect to follow it 

 on one occasion, and here was proof of the wisdom of the 

 old woodsman. At such a time, when wet, cold and 

 hungry, one good match was worth a king's ransom, and 

 I had it. Dead wood was plenty, and the little breeze 

 which kept the mosquitoes from the open sloo was not 

 felt in the underbrush. Before the fire we stripped and 

 spread our clothing on poles cut for the purpose, and 

 then there is a dim remembrance of three fellows try- 

 ing to keep their bodies in the smoke and their eyes out 

 of it. 



This was a mosquito paradise for them. For us 

 the term might be reversed, and it would require the pen 

 of Dante to describe the place. Still, most readers of 



