Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1909 edition. Excerpt: ...he could obtain in no other way. His first experiment was so satisfactory that he often repeated it, and it was followed by the most gratifying improvement. At first Stovall was on his good behavior. He brought water to fill their camp kettle, and proved himself an adept in forest cookery. They had, besides their little kettle, a pint tin cup, a spoon or two made of hickory bark or buffalo horn, a tomahawk, and the ever-needful butcher knife, which also performed the duties of a razor. Michael had his pet paroquet and his experiments on himself for the cure of his rheumatism as his sole occupations, but his lot was a safe and tranquil one compared to what it soon became. As time went on the blackness of Stovall's character began to show itself in a more and more ugly light. One day he carried off and secreted Michael's tomahawk, while he slept. When Michael missed it he declared that the Indians must have crept into camp-during his absence and stolen it. In the long evenings, as they sat around the flickering fire, some strange impulse impelled him to open his heart to Michael, and show him all its ugly depths. Me would, by the hour, recount his crimes and deeds of successful rascality, leering on him the while, like a very devil. He did indeed seem possessed by evil spirits, and at this time, he had apparently made up his mind that Michael should never return to civilization, to make known to the world the true character of his companion. Sometimes he would make obscene allusions or dark inuendoes that might shock and disgust and fill with apprehensions a strong and able-bodied man, left alone with such a villian. "You must be a great rascal indeed," Michael would say, "if half of all you tell me is true." Stovall would reply by a low, ...