288 WILD sroKTs in the far west. 



pair were forgetting past pains and sorrows in the 

 tumult of the dance in lighted halls; while I was 

 stretched under the starry skies beside a crackling fire 

 in the forest, my trusty ritle and faithful dog by my 

 side. I had no mind for dancing or music ; for seven 

 months I had not heard from home, and seemed to 

 have got wedged in among the mountains, with the 

 world closed behind me, all retreat cut off, and nothins: 

 left but to advance : and yet the future offered no in- 

 viting picture ; alone, in the endless wilderness, I stood, 

 with hair turning gray — a solitary hunter, leaning on 

 my rifle, se23arated from all I loved. 



Old Hawkeye, must have had many a sorrowful 

 hour. 



Meantime, my companion, leaning on his elbow, Avas 

 gazing on the fire, and lost in recollections of the past ; 

 but his past must have been a happy one, for he often 

 smiled to himself He had lived an active life, and 

 looked forward to a happy old age, in the circle of an 

 amiable family, in the vicinity of his married children, 

 in the enjoyment of health and strength. Wherefore 

 should he be unhappy ? 



I stood up to change the current of my thoughts, 

 poked at the fire, laid the logs together, which w^ere 

 burnt through the middle, and reposed again on my 

 blanket. Conwell told me he was sixty-two years old 

 to-day, 31st of December, 1841 ; and yet he was so 

 strong and active that I had to exert myself to keep up 

 with him. He spoke of his past life ; how he had con- 

 tinually preceded civilization, first in CaroHna, then in 

 Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, and now in the Ozark 

 mountains, and he complained that people were gather- 



