bull; how March Marston became madder than ever, and infected his little
steed with the same disease, so that the two together formed a species
of insane compound that caused Redhand and Bounce to give vent to many a
low chuckle and many a deep sagacious remark, and induced Hawkswing to
gaze at it--the compound--in grave astonishment.

All this and a great deal more might be told, and, no doubt, might prove
deeply interesting. But, as no man can do everything, so no man can
record everything; therefore we won't attempt it, but shall at once, and
without further delay, proceed to that part of our tale which bears more
directly on the Rocky Mountains and the Wild Man of the West himself.

"It's a strong place," said Redhand, checking the pace of his horse and
pointing to a small edifice or fort which stood on the summit of a
little mound or hill about a quarter of a mile in advance of them--"a
very strong place--such as would puzzle the redskins to break into if
defended by men of ordinary pluck."

"Men of pluck sometimes get careless, and go to sleep, though," said
March Marston, riding up to the old trapper; "I've heard o' such forts
bein' taken by redskins before now."

"So have I, lad, so have I," returned Redhand; "I've heard o' a fort
bein' attacked by Injuns when the men were away huntin', an' bein' burnt
down. But it ginerally turns out that the whites have had themselves to
thank for't."

"Ay, that's true," observed Bounce; "some o' the whites in them parts is
no better nor they should be. They treats the poor Injuns as if they
wos dogs or varmints, an' then they're astonished if the redskins murder
them out o' revenge. I know'd one feller as told me that when he lived
on the west side o' the mountains, where some of the Injuns are a
murderin' set o' thieves, he niver lost a chance o' killin' a redskin.
Of course the redskins niver lost a chance o' killin' the whites; an' so
they come to sich a state o' war, that they had to make peace by givin'
them no end o' presents o' guns an' cloth an' beads--enough to buy up
the furs o' a whole tribe."

"I guess they was powerful green to do anything o' the sort," said Big
Waller. "I knowed a feller as was in command of a party o' whites, who
got into much the same sort of fix with the Injuns--always fightin' and
murderin'; so what does he do, think ye?"

"Shooted de chief and all hims peepil," suggested Gibault.

"Nothin' o' the sort," replied Waller. "He sen