found any Indians he
would return; but he was satisfied that the party who had made the
attack expended all their provisions, and were obliged to retire to
obtain more.

"I shall be atween you and the Injuns all the time, boy," said he.

"I am not afraid, Kit; and I'm very grateful to you for what you have
done for me--and for Matt," I replied, walking with him towards the
brook.

"Matt and I was good friends; but all that's passed and gone. I shall
come back in a few days--sooner ef there's any Injuns round. Good by,
boy."

He walked across the brook on one of the stringers, and disappeared in
the forest. Mr. Mellowtone was also impatient to depart. He had been
away from his home on the island for several days. In the afternoon, as
Kit did not return, we concluded the enemy had retired, and my friend
embarked in his barge for home; but he promised to return before night.
I was alone then, and I walked about the farm thinking of Matt.
Whichever way I turned, there was always something to remind me of him.

I could not help considering my prospects for the future. I had
concluded to carry on the farm that season, though I did not like the
idea of living all alone. Mr. Mellowtone said nothing about taking up
his residence with me, though I had suggested the idea to him. I knew
that he was fond of solitude for a large portion of his time. He was
too much enamoured of his island to leave it. Kit's habits would not
permit him to settle down and dwell in a house, for though he had a
cabin, he did not live in it except in the winter. If I carried on the
farm, I must do it alone, though I should doubtless receive frequent
visits from my neighbors.

I walked about the farm thinking what I should do the coming season,
and I laid out work enough to keep me well employed till the coming of
the autumn. I intended to plant ten acres in corn, potatoes, and
vegetables. Fortunately the soil was easily worked, and I had no doubt
of my ability to perform the labor, with the aid of the horses and the
implements at my command. I walked till I had arranged my plans, and
then went into the Castle to consider them further.

My thoughts wandered away from the practical duties of the farm to the
past. I recalled the scene on the banks of the Missouri, where Matt had
folded me in his arms by the bivouac fire. He was not my real father,
though he had done all a parent could do for me. I had had a real
father and mother, who probably beli