o a clearing on a
hillside, and as I climbed the slope I was startled by loud, profane and
boisterous voices which seemed to proceed from a thick cover of
undergrowth about two hundred yards in advance of me.

"You kin, kin you?"

"Yes I kin and I'm able to do it! Boo-oo-oo!--O wake snakes, brimstone
and fire! Don't hold me, Nick Stoval; the fight's made up and I'll jump
down your throat before you kin say 'quit.'"

"Now Nick, don't hold him! Just let the wildcat come, and I'll tame him.
Ned'll see me a fair fight, won't you Ned?"

"O yes, I'll see you a fair fight; blast my old shoes if I don't."

"That's sufficient, as Tom Haines said when he saw the elephant; now let
him come."

Thus they went on with countless oaths and with much that I could not
distinctly hear. In mercy's name, I thought, what a band of ruffians is
at work here. I quickened my gait and had come nearly opposite the thick
grove, whence the noises proceeded, when my eye caught, indistinctly
through the foliage of the scrub oaks and hickories that intervened,
glimpses of a man or men who seemed to be in a violent struggle.
Occasionally, too, I could catch those deep-drawn, emphatic oaths which
men utter when they deal heavy blows in conflict. As I was hurrying to
the spot, I saw the combatants fall to the ground, and after a short
struggle I saw the uppermost one (for I could not see the others) make a
heavy plunge with both his thumbs. At the same instant I heard a cry in
the accent of keenest torture--"Enough, my eye is out."

For a moment I stood completely horror-struck. The accomplices in this
brutal deed had apparently all fled at my approach, for not a one was to
be seen.

"Now blast your corn-shucking soul," said the victor, a lad of about
eighteen, as he arose from the ground, "come cuttin' your shines 'bout
me agin next time I come to the court-house will you? Get your owl-eye
in agin if you kin."

At this moment he saw me for the first time. He looked frightened and
was about to run away when I called out--"Come back, you brute, and help
me relieve the poor critter you have ruined forever."

Upon this rough salutation he stopped, and with a taunting curl of the
nose, replied. "You needn't kick before you're spurred. There an't
nobody here nor han't been, nuther. I was just seeing how I could have
fout." So saying, he pointed to his plow, which stood in the corner of
the fence about fifty yards from the battle ground. Would any m