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His rifle was in perfect condition, the handle of his hunting-knife was neatly carved, his powder-horn was ornamented with suitable devices lightly cut into the material, and his shot-pouch was decorated with wampum.
A few pegs around the walls for a display of the coats of the women, and hunting-shirts of the men, and two small forks or buck-horns to a joist for the rifle and shot-pouch, completed the carpenter work. "In the mean time masons were at work.
My brother constantly warned me not to be so wasteful, although he fired half a dozen shots to my one without getting more birds for the table. At length there came a day when there was little shot left just about enough to fill one shot-pouch and knowing it was his intention to have a day out, I sneaked into the gun-room and loaded my fowling-piece just to have one shot more.
Over his shoulders he slung a powder-horn and shot-pouch, the latter tastefully embroidered with dyed quill-work. A pair of deerskin mittens, having a little bag for the thumb and a large bag for the fingers, completed his costume.
"Proceeded to the trial of Reed, he confessed that he 'deserted & Stold a public Rifle shot-pouch Powder & Ball' and requested we would be as favorable to him as we could consistently with our Oathes which we were and only sentenced him to run the gantlet four times through the Party and that each man with 9 switchies should punish him & for him not to be considered in future as one of the Party."
He then selected from the arms a short double-barrelled gun, and, slinging a powder-horn and shot-pouch over his shoulders, prepared to depart. "Now listen, my soft one," he said, on completing his arrangements. "I feel a'most sartin sure that the cry ye heard was not daddy's; nevertheless, the bare possibility o' such a thing makes it my dooty to go an' see if it was the old man.
But finding that the Indians were now endeavoring to drive off all the horses, he ordered all three of us to follow the main party, who were chasing the horses up the river, and fire instantly upon the thieves; while he, without taking time to run for his shot-pouch, pursued the fellow who had stolen his gun and another Indian, who were driving away the horses on the left of the camp.
A still anger was beginning to burn in him against this man who accused him of a deed which he himself had done, and he felt rising within him a stubborn will to endure, not to surrender. If his father was going to act like that, why, let him "Where is your shot-pouch?" asked Mr. Edwards. Jim motioned toward the drawer. "Is your powder-flask there, too?" "Yes." Mr.
He had faint memory of two companions knew their names, or thought that he did; but where were they? The camp-fire ashes were cold; no breakfast smoke arose. He saw no packs, no bedding; the bones of the she-bear were scattered and white and dry. He called feebly. "Tom! Jim! Hello! Whar be ye?" Nobody answered. He tried to sit up; looked for his rifle, felt for his shot-pouch and powder-horn.
Resting his gun in a corner for he never parted with that weapon night or day and laying his powder-horn and shot-pouch on the ground, he drew his tomahawk and scalping-knife, and was about to deposit them beside the horn, when his eye suddenly fell on a gigantic Indian crouching, as if on the point of springing on him. Like lightning he sprang erect.
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