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Since the day I gin her that kiss, she'd niver let me alone, but used to bother me every time I met her in the woods; an' would a come arter me to my own cabin, if it hadn't been for the dogs, that wud tar an Injun to pieces. She war afeerd o' them but not o' me, no matter how I thraitened her.
She got riled 'bout that, an' thraitened revenge; an' one night, as I war comin' from Swampville, 'bout this time only 'twar as dark as a pot o' pitch I war jest ridin' out into this very gleed, when all o' a suddint my ole hoss gin a jump forrard, an I feeled somethin' prick me from behind. 'Twar the stab o' some sort o' a knife, that cut me a leetle above the hip, an' made me bleed like a buck.
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