k. They conversed freely and somewhat boldly on
what they read, and we doubt not that our learned divines, had they
listened to the talk of the youthful pioneer and the young hunter, would
have been surprised, perhaps edified, by the simple, practical,
common-sense views promulgated by those raw theologians. Certainly, any
one listening to the grave, kindly, philosophical commentaries of March
Marston, would never have believed in the truth of that statement at the
commencement of this story, wherein it is asserted somewhat positively
that "March Marston was mad!"

Bounce, and Big Waller, and Black Gibault, drew naturally together and
speculated, after their own peculiar fashion, on every subject of
thought within the reach of their capacities; and as Bounce's capacities
embraced a pretty wide range, the "feelosophical" views he set forth
upon that lovely Sabbath day were so varied, so eccentric, so graphic,
and so apparently inexhaustible, that he effectually quelled Gibault's
inveterate tendency, to jest, and filled Big Waller with deeper
admiration than ever.

As for Redhand and the Indian, they wandered about in sympathetic
silence, broken ever and anon by the old trapper passing a remark on
some interesting peculiarity of a leaf, an insect, or a flower. It has
been said, that as men grow older they find deeper pleasure in the
contemplation of the minute things of nature, and are less desirous than
they were wont to expatiate on the striking and the grand. What truth
there is in the remark we cannot tell; but, certain it is, while the
younger men of the party seemed to cast longing, admiring, and gladsome
looks over the distant landscape, and up at the snow-clad and
cloud-encompassed heights of the Rocky Mountains, old Redhand bent his
eyes, we might almost say lovingly, on the earth. He would sit down on
a stone and pluck a leaf, which he would examine with minute care; or
watch with the deepest interest the frantic efforts of a little ant, as
it staggered along under its gigantic burden of a single seed, climbing
over a mountainous twig, tumbling into a cavernous hole the size of a
hazelnut, or being brought to a hesitating pause by a mountain torrent a
quarter of an inch broad.

The sedate Indian took special pleasure in watching the doings of his
old friend. Usually, he contented himself with a grunt of assent when
Redhand made a remark on the peculiarities of a plant or an insect, but
sometimes he vent