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As I neared the point of my destination, I became naturally curious to learn something about it that is, about Swampville since it was evident that this was to be the point d'appui of my future efforts at colonisation my depot and port entry. I should have inquired had I found any one to inquire from; but, for ten miles along the road, I encountered not a human creature.
Wal what sort o' thing is't anyhow?" "My religion is of the right sort, Brother Holt." "Methody?" "Nothing of the kind." "What then? I thort they wur all Methodies in Swampville?" "They're all Gentiles in Swampville worse than infidels themselves." "Wal I know they brag mightily on thur genteelity. I reckon you're about right thur them, storekeepers air stuck-up enough for anythin'."
Thar's squ'lls, an' 'possum, an' turkeys too; an' lots o' fish in the crik if one gets tired o' the bar an' deer-meat, which I shed niver do." "But how about clothing, and other necessaries that are not found in the woods?" "As for our clothin' it ain't hard to find. We can get that in Swampville by swopping skins for it, or now an' then some deer-meat.
It was not probable: the house-utensils could hardly have been transported that way? Nor yet could they have removed them in a wagon? No road for wheels ran within miles of the clearing that to Swampville, as already stated, being no more than a bridle-path; while the other "traces," leading up and down the creek, were equally unavailable for the passage of a wheeled vehicle.
As soon as I had described the winding up of the duel, and what followed including my departure from Swampville I was again interrupted by the young hunter this time not by his speech but by an action equally significant. Hastily approaching the fireplace, he lifted his rifle from the cleets; and, dropping the piece upon its butt, commenced loading it!
The answer was also given interrogatively, "Has the White Eagle lost his eyes, by gazing too long on the pale-faced fair ones of Swampville? There is light in the sky, and the face of Su-wa-nee is turned to it. Let him look on it: it is not lovely like that of the half-blood, but the White Eagle will never see that face again."
Were I to have done so, I could never have shown my face again neither in the settlement of Swampville, nor elsewhere. Even among my polished friends of more fashionable circles, I should have been taunted branded as a coward and poltroon! The rude character of my adversary would have been no excuse especially after the manner in which he was acting.
That morning's mail had conveyed to the settlement the intelligence of a rare and interesting event the discovery of the gold placers of California. I had heard rumours of this before only half believed, and not yet reaching to Swampville.
Truly had she merited the praises which the young backwoodsman had oft lavished upon her. To all that he had said the most critical connoisseur would have given his accord. No wonder that Wingrove had been able to resist the fascinations of the simpering syrens of Swampville no wonder that Su-wa-nee had solicited in vain!
Had the scene been new to me, I might have found food for reflection, or observed circumstances to astonish me. But I had been long accustomed to mix in as motley a throng, as that which now surrounded the table of the Swampville hotel.
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