gony!" said he, rolling back his eyes.

"Where does the pain lie?" asked Glenn.

"Oh, St. Peter! all over me! In my toes, ankles, legs, arms, heart,
throat, mouth, nose, and eyes! Oh, I'm in tortures! I'm blind--I can't
see any of you!"

At this moment Roughgrove, who had been over the river on a visit to
Boone, entered the apartment with the renowned hunter at his side.
When fully informed of the circumstances, Boone stooped down and felt
Joe's pulse.

"The strokes are irregular," said Boone.

"Oh heaven!" exclaimed Joe.

"But that may be caused by fright," continued Boone.

"Oh goodness! it ain't that--I'm a dying man!"

"Is the leg much swollen?" asked Boone, endeavouring to ascertain
without taking off the bandages.

"Oh! oh! don't do that! it'll kill me in a minute--for its swelled fit
to burst!" cried Joe, shrinking from Boone's grasp.

"All the cases of snake-bite that I have seen differ from this. I have
always found the swollen limb nearly devoid of feeling. Did you kill
the snake?"

"No--Oh!"

"Tell me precisely the place where you were standing when it bit
you--there is a mystery about it that I must solve."

"Oh--it was--I can't speak! my breath's going fast! Oh! Paternoster--"

William then described the spot to Boone in such precise terms that
the old woodman declared he would immediately repair thither and
endeavour to find the snake. He accordingly set out in the direction
indicated without further delay; while Roughgrove, believing that poor
Joe was really on the verge of eternity, strove to comfort his
departing spirit with the consolation that religion affords.

"Oh! that ain't the right one!" exclaimed Joe, pushing away the
Episcopal prayer-book held by Roughgrove.

"Then here is one you cannot object to," said Roughgrove, opening the
Bible.

"Oh, that's not it, either!" cried Joe, in great distress. "Is there
no priest in this region? I'm a Roman Catholic--oh!"

"Can you not confess your sins _directly_ to God--the God who is
everywhere, and governs all things?" said the aged man, impressively,
and with animation.

"I have prayed," said Joe; "but now I want the ointment!"

"Your body, which must be placed in the damp cold earth, needs no oil.
It is far better to purify the soul, which perishes not," said
Roughgrove, in fervent and tremulous tones.

"Oh!--Oh! Ugh!" cried Joe, in a deep guttural voice, and turning over
on his face. His fears had evidently been increased by