“Nay, young man, excuse the freedom which all expect to exercise in this comparative wilderness; but I am very sure there is not another emigrant on this side of the Ohio who has been actuated by the same motives that brought thee hither.  Others come to fell the forest oak, and till the soil of the prairie, that they may prepare a heritage for their children; but thy soft hands and slender limbs are unequal to the task; nor dost thou seem to have felt the want of this world’s goods; and thou bringest no family to provide for.  Thou hast committed that which banished thee from society, or found in society that which disgusted thee—­speak, which of these?” said Boone, in accents, though not positively commanding, yet they produced a sense of reverence that subdued the rising indignation of Glenn, and looking upon the interrogator as the acknowledged host of the eternal wilds, and himself as a mere guest, who might be required to produce his testimonials of worthiness to associate with nature’s most honest of men, he replied with calmness, though with subdued emotion—­

“You are right, sir—­it was the latter.  I had heard that you were happy in the solitude of the mountain-shaded valley, or on the interminable prairies that greet the horizon in the distance, where neither the derision of the proud, the malice of the envious, nor the deceptions of pretended love and friendship, could disturb your peaceful meditations:  and from amid the wreck of certain hopes, which I once thought no circumstances could destroy, I rose with a determined though saddened heart, and solemnly vowed to seek such a wilderness, where I could pass a certain number of my days engaging in the pursuits that might be most congenial to my disposition.  Already I imagine I experience the happy effects of my resolution.  Here the whispers of vituperating foes cannot injure, nor the smiles of those fondly cherished deceive.”

“Your hand, young man,” said Boone, with an earnestness which convinced Glenn that his tale was not imprudently divulged.

“Ho! what’s the matter with you?” Boone continued, turning to Joe, who had just arisen from his supper, and was stretching back his shoulders.

“I got a licking from a bear to-night—­but I don’t mind it much since I’ve had a snack.  But if ever I come across him in the daytime, I’ll show him a thing or two,” said Joe, with his fists doubled up.

“Pshaw! do you still entertain the ridiculous belief that it was really a bear you encountered?” inquired Glenn, with an incredulous smile.

“I’ll swear to it!” replied Joe.

“Let me see your face,” remarked Boone, turning him to where there was more light.

“Hollo! don’t squeeze it so hard!” cried Joe, as Boone removed some of the coagulated blood that remained or the surface.

“There is no doubt about it—­it was a bear, most certainly,” said Boone; and examining the wound more closely, continued:  “Here are the marks of his claws, plain enough:  he might easily be captured to-morrow.  Who will hunt him with me?”