MAGNUS, THE GREAT BUFFALO IIUXTER. 175 



nlficant swamp-lioles or thorns! And then, as it 

 struck him that he was a father of a family, his voice 

 became weaker and more tremulous, his emotion in- 

 creased, a flood of tears gushed from his eyes, and 

 before I was aware, the little round fin;ure was hanj^inn^ 

 to my neck. The heavy weight forced from me a 

 sigh, which he took for sympathy, and he began to 

 squeeze so hard that I was afraid I should be suffo- 

 cated, Avhen his two friends, who had been more 

 moderate with the bottle, sjorang to my rescue. But 

 this was no easy matter, and as he clung to me he 

 cried out, " Let me alone ! he 's my friend — he, he will 

 save me ! " I escaped from him by a sudden wrench, 

 and his companions carried him off to bed, he all the 

 while throwing about his little fat arms and legs, and 

 caUing them good-for-nothing buffalo dogs. Then he 

 again began to whine and cry, the sounds changing 

 gradually, first into a groan and then into a snore. 



We arrived at the new farm about noon next day, 

 and found the former proprietors loading their wagon. 

 They took their leave in the afternoon, and left as a 

 memorial an incredible quantity of dirt. As soon as 

 our wagon was cleared, and the things under cover, 

 S. returned with the two drivers for another load, 

 leaving me in the house alone. It was in the midst of 

 a thick forest, with a field of about seven acres, sur- 

 rounded by the largest trees. But I had not much 

 time to contemplate the beauties of Nature, for in un- 

 loadmg and stowing away, the hours had flown on tlie 

 wings of the wind. The sun had set before I had 

 collected wood from the forest to keep up a fire for the 

 night, or had had time to prepare my supper; the 



