12 
out sooner or later, ef we didn't find some 
means fur escapin’. 
We thought over one plan arter ’nother, 
but 'twas no use, there was only one way 
out, an' thet way was held by the cowardly 
red-skids. 
Ole sot there in a brown study ’i ill it 
begun to grow dusk, an’ then sez he: 11 ‘Si, 
this is a tight place, sure, an’ we’ve got to 
run some risk anyhow. Now I’ve been 
thinkin over a plan thet I bleve’ll work. 
At any rate it’ll leave us in no worse 
shape, ef it fails.” 
He commenced strippin’ off his long 
huntin’ jacket, then took the string from 
his powder-flask an’ tied it to the collar. 
Then he took a stone thet would weigh a 
couple o’ pounds, an' tied the other end o’ 
the string ’round it tight an' strong. We 
fixe l mine in the same way. 
‘‘Now” sez Ole, “we must pitch the 
stones up on top o’ the cliff, an’ let the 
jackets hang over, jest at dark, it'll look 
like two men a climbin' up over there, fur 
they‘11 show ’gainst the snow and light col¬ 
ored rock.” 
It was the best thing we could think uv, 
so jest at dark we heaved 'em up onto the 
side o’ the cliff, an’ then takin’ our rifles, 
stole softly along the wall to the pint where 
the Injuns made their sudden retreat. In 
the faint light them jackets did look won¬ 
derfully like two men a climbin’ up over 
the rocks. 
Ole took up a rock an’ threw it with all 
his might agin the cliff along side o’ them 
effigies. It started the Injuns, fur pretty 
soon we heerd ’em creepin’ around to git a 
look at our old hidin’ place. The first thing 
their eyes rested on, was them two figures 
a crawlin’, as they thought, up over the 
edge uv the rocks. 
Sich a yell ez they did set up; an’ every 
blasted one of ’em rushed fur them effigies. 
Jest the second thet they got by u-, we 
“scooted” down thet cut an’ into the river; 
an’ none too soon either, fur the yellin’, 
howl in mob was right behind us. 
But we was rested now, an’ knew the 
country well, so thet we lied a fair show in 
the race fur the shanty. The bends in the 
river kept us out o' sight, an’ we could tell 
by the sounds a growin’ fainter an’ fainter, 
thet they hadn’t much hopes o’ ketchin’ us 
thet night. 
By the time we reached the mouth o’ 
the crick, they hed dropped off an’ left the 
chase. 
But we didn’t feel much like slackin' 
our pace down to a walk, fur it was power¬ 
ful cold, an’ ye know thet we hed very 
considerately left our jackets fur the ben- 
fit uv our friends. 
1 tell ye that snug, stout cabin seemed 
like a haven uv safety an’ rest thet night. 
The logs was green and it was half buried 
in snow, so we hed no fears uv their settin’ 
it afire, an’ we knew they never could take 
us in any other way. 
It was clear enough thet we was not to 
be moleste l agin thet night, so arter a 
hearty supper by a roastin' fire, we turned 
in fur the night. 
The next mornin* when we got up, the 
air was thick with flviu’ snow. Ye couldn’t 
see two rods away, an’ every track was 
blotted out. 
“Ole,” sez [, “them Injuns liaint the 
least idee where this 'ere shanty is located, 
an’ ef they did they couldnt find it in this 
blindin’ snow storm.” 
“An’ ye can jest bet.” says Ole, “that 
them reds aint very anxious to corner us 
agin. The cowardly varmints will go on 
about their business now; but it won't be 
many weeks afore they’re back here with a 
snarl o’ red skins; so the sooner we git 
down to the settlement the better it’ll be 
fur us.” 
We didn’t see anything m 're of ’em, 
fur thet storm lasted two days. In the 
meantime we hed built a couple o’ light 
“jumpers,” an' as soon as the storm let up 
we loaded on our furs an’ tackle an' started 
off down river, leavin’ the little hut to its 
fate. 
It was an awful job a travelin’ them 
thirty-five miles, an’ a haulin’ them furs, 
but we made it in four days, without bein’ 
molested at all on the way. 
Thet was ovr last winter in the woods, 
fur the next spring we both come out West. 
A Quincy father has put two strands of 
barbed wire on top of the front gite. That 
man is so mean that he would actually 
make a good Congressman. 
