352 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



quarters, and that their beef was worthless; but that the 

 fine robes came from the cows, and that the hump rib of 

 a two-year-old heifer was a fine bit of beef. 



On the wall of my den hangs a pair of buffalo horns 

 saved from the slaughter of that day. Below them are a 

 pair of snowshoes, and the sword of an officer of the line. 

 Sometimes an old man rests his eyes upon these relics 

 until the present is forgotten; the rushing bison with 

 their thundering tramp and grunting snort go by in 

 countless herds, which somehow change into battalions 

 of armed men with glistening bayonets and ragged col- 

 ors, which afterward fade into the brown of the forest 

 and the stillness only broken by the fall of the snow- 

 shoe, until he is aroused by a soft hand on his shoulder, 

 and a soft voice by his side says : "Hadn't you better get 

 ready for dinner? You've been asleep." 



