226 
WILD SCENES AND SONG-BIEDS. 
host, and determined to make liim the first target of its aim 
in the event of contingencies. Assuming at once an impera- 
tive tone, I demanded of the fellow, with his own rifle lying 
across my knees, cocked — my finger in the guard and the 
barrel levelled at his bosom — 
" Where did you get that whiskey from ?" 
" Got it up here in the woods," he answered sulkily. 
" Where, up in the woods, my good fellow ? Did you not 
represent, when we landed here, that there were no persons 
living within ten miles of your cabin, and that therefore it 
was a needless precaution for us to bring our baggage in ? 
Where do all these fellows come from — up in the woods, I 
suppose, where the whiskey came from ?" 
" Yes, the boys have got a shanty up there." 
" Well, it must be precious liquor you sell among you ! 
Look at that man there who has been fool enough to drink 
of your poisoned whiskey !" I pointed to Yankee, who had 
by this time fallen helplessly across his ill-fated cherry-wood 
boxes, with all the relaxed expression of the abandon of re- 
pose peculiar to those suffering under the effect of strong 
narcotics. The fellow only grunted out — 
" The fool is drunk ! The whiskey is good enough !" and 
sundry mutterings and murmurings ran around the circle. 
I had noticed a slight stir of my friend's body during this 
conversation, and suddenly there was a faint jingling — the 
heavy sleeper had fallen upon his knees before his trunk — 
the lock snapped, and in a twinkling a pair of nine-inch bar- 
rel ounce-ball pistols were exhumed, clicking as they came 
forth, and shutting down the lid of his trunk, with a pistol 
ill each hand, the drowsy gentleman assumed the old atti- 
tude of profound sleep, with his fingers cautiously resting on 
the outside of the hair-trigger guard. This was too rich. I 
laughed outright. 
" You can't come it, my boys," said I, as I threw myself 
back in a guarded ecstasy of mirth. 
" Can't come what ?" said the beetle-browed rufiian. 
