20 Ogallala Sioux.  In the fight my old partner Beaver bob was wiped out I was wounded but managed to make my escape and after a pretty hard time reached the Mission on the head of the Yellow Stone—­I mean near the head.  I lost my horses all my outfit in fact almost everything.  When my ammunition was expended—­I mean used up—­I threw my rifle away and took to the brush and ran for it—­I mean the chance of life.  Lately I have heard that Mr. Greely has handed in his chips—­that is passed in his checks—­I mean gone to limbo you know.  I’m sorry for the old man but we must all go some time you know. and now miss what I want to know is will you instead of your father send me a breech loading rifle.  If you do I shall be much obliged to you and if you don’t I hope there is no harm done.  The kind of rifle I want is one of Sharps new improved shooting rifles with a barrell 36 inches in length and a barrell 16 pound weight Calibre 44.  They are mad in Sharps factory Connetticot in a place called Hartford.  If one was sent to me by Wells and Fargoes express to Deerlodge city Montana Territory, I should get it.  The name or rather the nickname by which I am known among mountain men is Death Rifle.  The redskins I mean the Indians gave me that name many years in Dacotah Territtory and it stuck to me ever since.  My right name is Hugh De Lacey so when you wish to adress or direct any thing to me direct to Hugh De Lacey, Deerlodge City, Montana.  Miss Greely a great many eastern men we remarked seem to think that we mountaineers are to blame for having trouble with the redskins I can assure you we never bother the infernal vermin only when they bother us and that is pretty often for when they get a chance to go for our hair they take it no more at present I remain

“Yours respectfully

“HUGH DE LACEY.

“N.B.  I have heard you eastern ladies are in the habit of useing a deal of false hair in your toilets if you choose miss Greely I will send you a lot of Indians hair any time you want it.  I remain yours respectfully

“HUGH DE LACEY.”

“It reads like a chapter from one of Cooper’s novels,” said mamma, “and the romantic name of Hugh De Lacey would be more appropriate to the handsome young descendant of some old Huguenot refugee family than such a rough trapper as your correspondent ‘Death Rifle;’ but the present he offers you is most singularly inappropriate; no one who had ever seen your wealth of hair, my child, would think of presenting you with a chignon;” and as she spoke she loosened and shook out Ida’s heavy clusters of hair, which, released from their orderly Marguerite braids, swept over her black dress like a tawny mantle.

[1] I insert this and the subsequent letters precisely as they are written, merely withholding some of the signatures.

CHAPTER XV.

Life in the Woods of Pennsylvania—­Journey from Vermont to Pennsylvania in 1826—­Travelling on Canal-boats—­Incidents by the Way—­Home in the Wilderness—­Aggressions of Bears and Wolves.