rive would approach my stand that
day, I ambled back to the hut and did a turn at dinner-getting. Things
were smoking, and smelt good, by the time four of our men turned up, all
of them dog-tired and disappointed, but stoical.

"That pup Coaly chased off atter a wildcat," blurted John. "We held the
old dogs together and let him rip. Then Dred started a deer. It was that
old buck that everybody's shot at, and missed, this three year back. I'd
believe he's a hant if 't wasn't for his tracks--they're the biggest I
ever seen. He must weigh two hunderd and fifty. But he's a foxy cuss.
Tuk right down the bed o' Desolation, up the left prong of Roaring Fork,
right through the Devil's Race-path (how a deer can git through thar I
don't see!), crossed at the Meadow Gap, went down Eagle Creek, and by
now he's in the Little Tennessee. That buck, shorely to God, has wings!"

We were at table in the Carolina room when Matt Hyde appeared. Sure
enough, he bore a turkey hen.

"I was callin' a gobbler when this fool thing showed up. I fired a shoot
as she riz in the air, but only bruk her wing. She made off on her legs
like the devil whoppin' out fire. I run, an' she run. Guess I run her
half a mile through all-fired thickets. She piped '_Quit--quit_,' but I
said, 'I'll see you in hell afore I quit!' and the chase resumed.
Finally I knocked her over with a birch stob, and here we are."

Matt ruefully surveyed his almost denuded legs, evidence of his chase.
"Boys," said he, "I'm nigh breechless!"

* * * * *

None but native-born mountaineers could have stood the strain of another
drive that day, for the country that Cope and Cable had been through was
fearful, especially the laurel up Roaring Fork and Killpeter Ridge. But
the stamina of these "withey" little men was even more remarkable than
their endurance of cold. After a small slice of fried pork, a chunk of
half-baked johnny-cake, and a pint or so of coffee, they were as fresh
as ever.

What soldiers these fellows would make, under leadership of some
backwoods Napoleon who could hold them together!--some man like Daniel
Morgan of the Revolution, who was one of them, yet greater!

I had made the coffee strong, and it was good stuff that I had brought
from home. After his first deep draught, Little John exclaimed:

"Hah! boys, that coffee hits whar ye hold it!"

I thought that a neat compliment from a sharpshooter.

We took new stands; but the