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 CHARLES MAJOR
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 
 i^tlL OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 
 
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 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO 
 ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 
 
 LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA ' 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 
 
 TORONTO
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 A STORY OF BEARS AND 
 INDIAN TREASURE 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES MAJOR 
 
 AUTHOR OF "WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER," 
 
 "DOROTHY VERNON OF HADDON HALL," "THE 
 
 BEARS OF BLUE RIVER," ETC., ETC. 
 
 "No man knows how much happiness there is in the 
 world till he hears the birds of the wildwood sing at 
 dawn." 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY P. VAN E. IVORY 
 
 Nefo f9ork 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1918 
 
 AH rights reserved
 
 Copyright, 1908. 
 By THE MACM1LLAN COMPANY. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1908. 
 Reprinted October, 1914; J*,9*- 
 
 NottoooB $88 
 
 J. S. Cushing Co. -Berwick fc Smith Co. 
 
 Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
 
 5cF 
 m* 5 i / L /23 c J7 
 
 X TO MY WIFE X 
 
 2131 Of)R
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. By the Fireside 
 
 II. The Wolves and the Powder Keg 
 
 III. Wyandotte, the Indian 
 
 IV. A Bear Fight in a Snowdrift . 
 V. Lost in the Woods 
 
 VI. The Story of Blue Violet 
 
 VII. The Flood and the Mother Bear 
 
 VIII. Lost in the Cave .... 
 
 IX. The Robbers in the Swamp 
 
 X. A Christmas Dinner in the Woods 
 XL Wyandotte Once More 
 
 XII. Search for the Treasure . 
 
 i 
 27 
 
 58 
 76 
 
 94 
 109 
 
 133 
 164 
 208 
 249 
 280 
 3H 
 
 vii
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " The rest of the audience sat in a circle in front of the 
 
 hearth" Frontispiece 
 
 PACING PAGE 
 
 " I was safer on top of the bear than I would be if it 
 
 were on top of me " 16 
 
 " We called the donkey Solomon ' " . . 34 
 
 " They forced us to draw up our feet so often that Balser 
 
 said he felt as if he was dancing a jig " . . . 46 
 
 Wyandotte . .64 
 
 " He angrily tossed off the bearskin " . . . 70 
 
 " We had disturbed their sleep, and they could not get 
 
 their eyes open " 80 
 
 " Balser looked like the incarnation of rage " 90 
 
 " The dogs, too, were lost " 96 
 
 " It's a bear, sure enough ! ' " 104 
 
 " He wanted none save a little maiden named ' Ionwah ' " 112 
 
 I led her to the barren hills and left her" . . . 122 
 
 " They long for spring and come out of their burrows in 
 
 search of food " 140 
 
 " The bears were as much frightened as I " . . . 148 
 
 "She had come to us for protection" . . . .178 
 
 ix
 
 x ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 " ' Just as Wyandotte described it! ' whispered Balser " 190 
 
 " At times she allowed the horse to rest "... 220 
 
 "We left our wagon and harness in exchange for the 
 
 girl" 244 
 
 " One hundred yards ahead of me was the bear " . . 266 
 
 "Wild with grief I took Mab in my arms and started 
 
 home " 272 
 
 " It took us nearly a week to get to Blue River " . . 284 
 
 " He made a thrust at me as if he intended to hide his 
 
 knife-blade in my body " 296 
 
 "We saw our horses hitched to stakes before the door" 314 
 
 " We counted six hundred pieces of twenty dollars each " 340 
 
 MAP 
 Map of Wyandotte Cave 320
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 BY THE FIRESIDE 
 
 My uncle's name was Thomas Andrew 
 William Addison. His father and mother 
 had three girls and only one boy, so they 
 said they would give him as many names as 
 a boy could stand, to make up, in a manner, 
 for his deficiency in number. His play- 
 mates, none of whom could boast more than 
 one name, laughed at his unusual assort- 
 ment. Some called him Tom, others Andy, 
 and others again found that Bill came trip- 
 pingly on the tongue. In time the three 
 names amalgamated, and " Tom Andy Bill " 
 fell permanently to his lot. My mother was 
 one of Tom Andy Bill's sisters. She and 
 my father dying when I was very young, 
 my uncle took me to "raise," and warmed 
 me in his great, tender breast. 
 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill was an "old bach- 
 elor," though he had reared a family of 
 fourteen children all adopted. All these
 
 2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 children except one (of her you will hear a 
 great deal in these pages) were nieces or 
 nephews and grand-nieces or grand-nephews 
 whose parents, like mine, had died. You may 
 be sure every member of the adopted family 
 worshipped with unquestioning faith at the 
 shrine of "the Adopter," as some of Tom 
 Andy Bill's older friends lovingly called him. 
 
 The mother instinct was so strong in Tom 
 Andy Bill's heart that all his friends regretted 
 he had never married. I remember once 
 hearing two old ladies deplore the fact. One 
 of them said tenderly : 
 
 "Oh, yes, it's too bad. He was the like- 
 liest young man I ever knew so tall and 
 strong and gentle. He was like a Greek 
 statue in form, and like a hero in bravery 
 and truthfulness and all that was good. His 
 hair was dark and curled about the finest 
 head and the handsomest face I ever saw. 
 No, he never married, but he had a sweet- 
 heart once yes, yes, you know the story. 
 Sad, wasn't it ? So sad." 
 
 I had long wanted to hear the story, and 
 frequently had tried to learn it; but no 
 one of my generation seemed to know it, 
 though many had heard it mentioned in a
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 3 
 
 general way as " very sad." None of Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill's generation would talk on 
 the subject all the romance, doubtless, hav- 
 ing oozed out of them. 
 
 Twenty years ago, when Uncle Tom Andy 
 Bill told the following stories, he was quite 
 an old man, but he was still young in heart, 
 and strong and beautiful in person. He was 
 fully six feet two inches high, and as straight 
 as a gray ash arrow. His face was smooth, 
 his glowing dark eyes had lost none of their 
 lustre, and his great shock of waving white 
 hair was a veritable halo of glory. Seven 
 members of the adopted family were still 
 under his roof at the time of which I speak ; 
 the other seven had married, or, as Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill said, " had flown the nest." 
 Of the seven remaining under his care, all 
 were grand-nieces and grand-nephews save 
 Baby Mab and me. I was a nephew, and Mab 
 was but you shall learn about her as we 
 progress. I'll let Uncle Tom Andy Bill tell 
 her little story and also the story of his 
 sweetheart. They will be short. 
 
 I was teaching school, and learning short- 
 hand at the same time, so I practised, taking 
 down Uncle Tom Andy Bill's stories of his
 
 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 boyhood days as he told them to his family 
 about a winter's fireside, and that is the way 
 I happen to have them to tell to you. 
 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill always sat in his 
 great arm-chair on the right side of the enor- 
 mous fireplace. He was near the fire so that 
 the smoke from his pipe would go up the 
 chimney. Next to him very, very close 
 sat Baby Mab in her tiny rocking-chair. 
 The rest of the audience, ranging in years 
 from Die, who was ten, to myself (at that 
 time I soared in the empyrean heights of 
 twenty-one), sat in a circle, that is, a half 
 circle, in front of the hearth. The fire fur- 
 nished light and heat, and plenty of each. 
 
 The picture we presented, with rare old 
 Nestor on our right flank, the dancing flames 
 in front lighting up our faces, and the flitting 
 shadows silently playing hide-and-seek in the 
 dark corners of the room behind us, was one 
 worthy of a master's brush. I wish I had 
 it on canvas. 
 
 I will not try to reproduce Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill's inimitable dialect, but will give 
 you his stories as I took them down, redo- 
 lent, however, of his manner and his style. 
 He was a man of much reading and of con-
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 5 
 
 siderable culture, but he spoke the language 
 of his friends, and cared a great deal more 
 for what he said than for how he said it. I 
 believe Uncle Tom Andy Bill's stories were, 
 in the main, true, though on rare occasions 
 he may have " idealized " certain incidents 
 for the benefit of his open-eyed, credulous 
 audience. It is almost impossible to resist 
 the temptation to create wonder in those 
 who eagerly believe all one says. 
 
 One cold evening, a fortnight before 
 Christmas, Uncle Tom Andy Bill fell into a 
 reminiscent mood, and spoke freely of his 
 boyhood days. 
 
 " That was long, long ago, fifty-odd 
 years back in the heart of time. You all 
 can't imagine how far back fifty years is. 
 One has to live seventy years to understand 
 what it means. When a man of seventy 
 looks back to his boyhood, it is like looking 
 down from a great height at men and women 
 on the earth below. The boy of fifty or sixty 
 years ago looks small and far away, as if he 
 were viewed through a spyglass turned end 
 for end." 
 
 " Tell us about the Indian treasure," sug- 
 gested one of the small boys.
 
 6 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " You want to hear about the Indian treas- 
 ure, do you ? " asked Uncle Tom Andy Bill. 
 " Well, I'll begin at the very beginning and 
 tell you all about it, though it will take a 
 great many evenings to finish the story, and 
 many adventures will happen on the way." 
 
 " The more, the better ! " shouted every 
 boy and girl in the room. " And we do want 
 you to begin at the very beginning and tell 
 us all about it right up to the end." 
 
 " And we want a lot of bear stories, too," 
 said one of the boys. 
 
 " Don't you hope it will take all winter ? " 
 whispered one of the small girls. 
 
 " Sh ! Sh ! Sh ! " came from several pairs 
 of older lips, and Uncle Tom Andy Bill be- 
 gan. 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 You see, father and mother came up from 
 Carolina about the year '19 or '20 and settled 
 here in Indiana on Blue River. I was a little 
 fellow, ten or twelve years old, but I remem- 
 ber it all all. We built our cabin where 
 the old house still stands down the river, 
 five miles from here, as you all know. I 
 thought father selected the spot close to the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 7 
 
 river so that I should not have far to go 
 afishing. He probably had other reasons, 
 but you see the one boy in a family of girls is 
 apt to think that all the spheres of the fam- 
 ily system revolve about him. It's bad for a 
 boy to get the notion into his head that he 
 is " the whole thing," for, you see, he has to 
 get it out again. It is knocked out of him 
 later in life, and the more firmly the idea 
 becomes fixed in his head, the harder the 
 knocks must be to loosen it. It cracks 
 many a fool's skull for good and all. 
 
 The neighbors for miles around came to 
 help us build our log cabin. When it was 
 finished and the openings between the logs 
 were well " chinked " with mud, father built 
 a great chimney; then we moved in and 
 were as snug as a bug in a rug. After the 
 house was built, father went to work to make 
 a clearing by chopping down trees and grub- 
 bing out underbrush. 
 
 Oh, how I enjoyed the great bonfires when 
 the neighbors came to help at the " log roll- 
 ing." Father chopped down the trees and 
 cut them into pieces that could be easily 
 handled. When the neighbors came, they 
 rolled the logs together and piled the brush ;
 
 8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 then the torch was applied, and what a sight 
 it was ! Talk about your Fourth of July 
 fireworks ! Compared to our log fires, they 
 look like a candle beside a burning barn. 
 
 Clearing the ground was hard work, but 
 father soon had a fine patch of rich bottom 
 ground cleared of everything but stumps. 
 Stumps ! They stood so thick on the ground 
 that you would have thought a dog could 
 not wiggle between them in places, if his 
 backbone happened to be stiff. Here, dur- 
 ing the first summer, father raised a small 
 crop of corn and a great number of pump- 
 kins that helped to keep us alive during the 
 winter. 
 
 Our chief support was game, of which the 
 deep, black forests were full. Deer, quail, 
 wild turkeys, rabbits, and squirrels infested 
 the whole country ; and father, in a few 
 hours' hunting, could easily fill our little 
 kitchen with more venison, as the meat of all 
 wild game was called, than we could eat in a 
 month. 
 
 When I was about twelve years old, father 
 bought a rifle for me and began to take me 
 out hunting with him. In addition to ven- 
 ison for the table, we hunted coons, wolves,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 9 
 
 foxes, minks, and beavers for the sake of 
 their fur, and father brought home many a 
 dollar from the sale of pelts. In those days 
 there were many bears, too, and for several 
 reasons we loved to hunt them. They killed 
 our sheep and were fonder of pig a tender 
 little squeaker than you all are of circus 
 candy. It was impossible to keep them 
 away from our little pigs, and that was one 
 reason we liked to kill the bears. We also 
 liked the meat of a young fat bear, and a 
 good whole bearskin was worth ten shillings, 
 that is, two dollars and a half. If you want 
 to know how big two dollars and a half 
 looked at that time, just go out and take 
 a peep at the full moon. We loved to 
 hunt deer, too, for their meat was delicious 
 and their hides sold for two shillings 
 fifty cents. Even fifty cents looked big 
 then. 
 
 Father and I killed many wolves and 
 foxes, too, but of all the game that prowled 
 the forest, I loved best to hunt bear. There 
 was the spice of danger in it, and when we 
 killed a bear, we not only felt proud of our 
 achievement, but we had something worth 
 while for our labor.
 
 io UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I remember, when I was about fourteen 
 years old, father and I started out one morn- 
 ing to kill a deer. A neighbor boy, who 
 lived one mile down the river from father's 
 house, accompanied us. His name was 
 Balser Brent, and he and I were chums. 
 He had a beautiful gun and was a great 
 hunter for his years. As I have said, we 
 started out to kill a deer, but we found a 
 bear. I suppose if we had started out for a 
 bear, we might have found a deer, so easy is 
 it to get what one does not seek. We got 
 what we didn't seek that day, and got plenty 
 of it. 
 
 Along Blue River the settlers had built 
 several houses, and deer, being shy, are apt 
 to stray away from the habitations of their 
 mortal enemy, man. Therefore, father, 
 Balser, and I walked over to Brandywine 
 Creek, three or four miles west of Blue, 
 where we hoped soon to kill a. deer, swing it 
 over a pole, and carry it home. 
 
 We had with us Balser's dogs, Tige and 
 Prince, and there were not on all Blue River 
 two better hunters than these intelligent 
 animals. They would hunt anything, but 
 they agreed with Balser and me that bear
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL n 
 
 was the only game really worth the prowess 
 of enterprising men and first-class dogs. 
 
 I suppose Tige and Prince knew we were 
 hunting deer that morning, and although 
 they were willing to help, they were not at 
 all enthusiastic. They were watchful and 
 alert, but they did not seem to throw all their 
 energies into the work. We had been on the 
 banks of Brandywine an hour or two, but 
 had not seen a deer even at a distance. 
 
 All of us, including the dogs, were grow- 
 ing tired and were inclined to be listless, 
 when suddenly I noticed new life manifest 
 itself in Tige, who was running thirty yards 
 ahead of us. He pricked up his ears and 
 his whole body seemed to be on the alert. 
 He stood for a moment on three legs and 
 gave forth a quick, low bark, which was 
 evidently intended as a remark to Prince, for 
 Prince quickly bounded to his side, and 
 both dogs put their noses to the ground with 
 eagerness and excitement. They consulted 
 for a moment, then they uttered another low, 
 quick bark ; this time they were speaking to 
 Balser. 
 
 " A bear, sure as you live," said Balser. 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " asked father.
 
 12 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " Tige and Prince told me so," answered 
 Balser. 
 
 Father shook his head, laughed, and an- 
 swered, " Nonsense, dogs can't talk." 
 
 " Can't they, though ? " returned Balser. 
 " Now listen. I'll ask them if it's a bear, 
 and if it is, they will answer in a quick, 
 low, excited bark, without lifting their noses 
 from the ground ; if it is other game, they 
 will lift their heads and bark louder, or not 
 at all. Is it a bear, Tige ? " 
 
 Tige answered exactly as his master said 
 he would, and Balser and I ran to the dogs. 
 We could see no tracks, for the ground was 
 dry and covered with leaves. It was the fall 
 of the year. 
 
 "Hunt him, Tige! Hunt him, Prince!" 
 said Balser, and the dogs started rapidly on 
 the scent, Balser and I following as fast as 
 we could run. Father had no faith in dog 
 talk, but he walked rapidly after us. Within 
 ten minutes we came to a spring where the 
 ground was soft, and when the dogs passed 
 over the muddy place, we knew we could 
 soon prove or disprove their assertion con- 
 cerning the bear. If they were on the 
 right scent, we should see bear tracks. Sure
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 13 
 
 enough, the tracks were there great, long, 
 fresh tracks, not more than an hour old. I 
 can't explain how an experienced hunter 
 knows the age of a track or a " spoor," as 
 the traces left by an animal are often called 
 by our Dutch friends; but if they are less 
 than a day old, one practised in the art of 
 "spooring" can guess the time at which they 
 were made and will not miss it an hour. 
 
 " Father, father ! " I cried, " the dogs are 
 right! Here are the tracks of at least two 
 bears. One of them must be as big as a 
 horse ; his foot is as long as my arm ! " 
 
 " If that is true, we had better turn back," 
 said father, laughing ; " I don't want to hunt 
 a bear that has a foot on him as long as 
 your arm. I like big bears, but excuse me, 
 please." 
 
 " Oh, come on, dad ! Do hurry," cried 
 I, starting off after Balser and the dogs. 
 
 Father stopped to examine the tracks and 
 was soon convinced that the dogs were right, 
 so he followed us. The dogs were running 
 away from us, so eager were they in the 
 chase, and father cried out : 
 
 " Call the dogs, Balser ; make them go 
 slowly so that we can keep up with them."
 
 i 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Balser whistled to the dogs and they 
 waited for us. When we came up to them, 
 off we started again in a great hurry ; father 
 lagging behind perhaps a hundred yards. 
 Balser and I kept close to the dogs, all going 
 at a very rapid pace; and soon we noticed 
 a short distance ahead of us a little hill. 
 Tige and Prince ran up the hill perhaps 
 twenty-five feet in advance of Balser and me 
 who were running side by side. When the 
 dogs reached the top of the hill, they leaped 
 forward as if they were jumping over a preci- 
 pice ; at the same time giving forth a sharp, 
 angry bark, emphasized by a clear note of 
 surprise. 
 
 Balser and I felt sure the dogs had sighted 
 the bears. We knew that the precipice, if 
 there was one, could not be very high, or the 
 dogs would not have taken it, so we did not 
 slacken our speed, but in our eagerness 
 sprang after Tige and Prince, and landed 
 squarely on two huge bears that were lying 
 at the foot of the low, rocky cliff. Balser 
 went first, and I saw him fall on the back 
 of a black monster that had risen to its 
 haunches, having been startled by the dogs. 
 Tige and Prince had jumped far over the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 15 
 
 bears and had landed at the top of a steep 
 little declivity, down which they rolled twenty 
 or thirty feet to the bottom. They were so 
 confused by their tumble that they spun 
 round and round for a moment like a dog 
 chasing its tail. 
 
 I was going too fast to stop when I saw 
 Balser fall upon the bear, and although I dis- 
 tinctly heard him cry out, " Don't jump, 
 Tom Andy Bill ! " I had to jump, and down 
 I went. You see I didn't want Balser to 
 have all the fun of riding the bears, so 
 when I fell I knocked him out of the saddle, 
 so to speak, and took his place. Balser fell 
 toward the other bear, which had also risen to 
 its haunches. In his effort to roll away from 
 the bear, Balser came to the top of the little 
 hill and unceremoniously rolled down after 
 the dogs, leaving me to ride the bear alone. 
 
 To say that all of us, including the bears, 
 were surprised and frightened, doesn't begin 
 to express the true condition. I never was 
 so scared ; that is, I never had been up to 
 that time. Afterward I was, but that will 
 come later. I hardly knew what I was do- 
 ing, and when I felt the huge brute squirm- 
 ing and twisting under me in its efforts to
 
 16 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 get on its feet, I threw my arms about its 
 neck and clung to it as a trick rider clings 
 to a bucking horse. I don't know why I 
 hung on, but instinct seemed to tell me that 
 I was safer on top of the bear than I would 
 be if it were on top of me, so I clung to its 
 back with a persistency worthy of a better 
 cause. Balser's gun had fallen from his 
 hands ; but mine was strapped across my 
 back, and of course I kept it with me. 
 
 The bears were as badly frightened as we 
 were, so when the black fellow, upon whose 
 back I was clinging like a monkey to a goat, 
 had gained its feet, it instinctively bolted for 
 safety; that is, it hurriedly entered a cave 
 that ran into the rocks at the bottom of the 
 little precipice over which we had so rashly 
 jumped. Not knowing what else to do, I 
 still clung to the bear, and into the cave we 
 went together. Soon after the bear entered 
 the cave I realized my danger, and knew 
 that I ought to have dismounted outside ; 
 but by the time my slow brain had turned the 
 thought over, it was too late, for right back 
 of me came the other bear, growling like 
 young thunder and throwing the gravel and 
 leaves about like a thing possessed.
 
 I WAS IARI DN TOP OF THE BKAR THAN I WOULD Bl IK II 
 WERE ON TOP OF ME"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL ir 
 
 The cave, I afterward learned, was only 
 forty or fifty feet deep, though it was rather 
 dark, because the opening was small and al- 
 most covered by overhanging branches. But 
 I thought the bear was carrying me to the 
 very bowels of the earth. Of course, the 
 time which seemed so long to me was in 
 reality only a few seconds, but I never want 
 to live through another few seconds like 
 those. Presently my head came in violent 
 contact with the wall of the cave, and the 
 stones did for me what I ought to have done 
 for myself, that is, they knocked me from 
 the bear's back. 
 
 I lay on the floor of the cave for a moment, 
 half stunned, and the other bear in its haste 
 walked right over me as if I were a log. I 
 tried to rise to my feet, but just at that 
 moment Tige and Prince entered the cave, 
 barking furiously, and the bears charged 
 them with equal ferocity. In charging the 
 dogs, the bears also charged me, so over I 
 went again and the bears went over me. 
 My buckskin clothing was torn in shreds by 
 the bears as they clawed me in their efforts 
 to reach the dogs, and I was scratched and 
 bruised from head to foot. In a moment
 
 1 8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 the dogs and bears were righting viciously, 
 but unfortunately they were between me and 
 the mouth of the cave. I remember sitting 
 on the ground and wondering if Balser and 
 father would ever come to my rescue. The 
 din raised by the barking of the dogs and 
 the angry growling of the bears was some- 
 thing terrific. 
 
 The strap had broken, and my gun had 
 fallen two or three yards from where I sat. 
 Instinct must have prompted me to try to 
 get the gun, for I am sure all power of dis- 
 tinct thought had been knocked and scratched 
 out of me. Although I could not think ra- 
 tionally, I vividly remember every little inci- 
 dent connected with that awful fight in the 
 cave. I remember crawling to my gun and 
 examining it to see if it was broken ; I re- 
 member a shiver of joy it could have been 
 nothing but a shiver when I found that 
 the gun was uninjured ; I also remember the 
 fight between the dogs and the bears. 
 
 Tige and Prince surely were the bravest 
 dogs that ever lived, and were as nimble 
 as cats. The huge, clumsy bears charged 
 them, striking viciously with their great 
 horny paws, but the dogs nimbly retreated
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 19 
 
 and as nimbly rushed back upon their foes, 
 inflicting ugly wounds with their sharp teeth, 
 and again retreating before the bears could 
 deliver a deadly stroke. Once, however, I 
 remember that the larger bear landed fairly 
 on poor Prince, and the devoted dog in turn 
 landed against the stone wall of the cave with 
 a force that, it seemed to me, would not only 
 break every bone in his body, but might also 
 crack the rock. The poor dog lay stunned 
 and bruised for a moment, staggered to his 
 feet, and limped again into the midst of the 
 fray. Although I had been in the cave but 
 a few seconds, my eyes were growing used to 
 the gloom, and as the bears were between 
 me and the light, I could clearly distinguish 
 their forms. 
 
 I recovered my gun, and with the familiar 
 weapon once more in my hands, rational con- 
 sciousness seemed to return. Then I began 
 to cast around in my mind for some way to 
 help my friends, Tige and Prince. Time 
 and again the bears charged the dogs and 
 retreated, but when they retreated they 
 backed toward me and often came so close 
 to where I was sitting that I would gladly 
 have moved further into the cave had
 
 20 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I been able to push the stone wall with 
 me. 
 
 When the larger bear came very close to 
 me, I hastily rose to my feet, but my left 
 leg gave way under me and down I went 
 to the floor again. In my excitement I felt 
 no pain, but I knew something was wrong 
 with my leg. It had never before deserted 
 me in time of danger, but had always carried 
 me away as fast as any boy could run. I 
 never was very brave, and there is nothing 
 so useful to an inquisitive coward as a good 
 pair of legs. I do not believe that one 
 should " fight and run away, and live to 
 fight another day " ; my motto always has 
 been, " run away before the fight, and keep 
 your skin all whole and tight." I was disap- 
 pointed in my leg for the first time, and on 
 a very important occasion. 
 
 I crawled back as far as I could from 
 the bears and sat upright with my back 
 against the wall of the cave. Soon I noticed 
 that the bears and the dogs were gradually 
 moving backward toward me, and I knew 
 that my poor body would soon furnish them 
 a battle-ground. They would be fighting 
 over me.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 21 
 
 Fright seemed to clear my brain. I 
 brought my gun to my shoulder, intending to 
 try to shoot one of the bears in case it came 
 near me. The fight between the dogs and the 
 bears waged furiously, the bears alternately 
 retreating toward me and again charging 
 viciously upon the dogs. For a time the 
 bears did not come as near to me as I 
 desired for a shot. I determined to be sure 
 of my aim, for I knew there was but one 
 bullet between me and death the one in 
 my gun. If I wounded the bear and did 
 not kill it, I knew I should not live to load 
 another gun, so the precious bullet must find 
 lodgement either in the brain or in the heart 
 of the great brute. 
 
 Could I kill one of the bears, the other 
 probably would make a dash for liberty, or 
 the dogs would occupy its attention, and I 
 might reach the mouth of the cave unmo- 
 lested. I grew impatient when the bear did 
 not come toward me, and after waiting a 
 short time foolishly resolved to fire. I had 
 raised my gun to my shoulder, when sud- 
 denly the cave became dark and I could 
 barely distinguish the form of the bear, so I 
 lowered my gun. The next instant, with a
 
 22 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 mixed feeling of horror and joy, I saw my 
 father's form against the light, right in line 
 with the bear. Had I shot and missed the 
 bear, I surely should have killed my father. 
 
 The bears also saw my father and retreated 
 backward toward me. One of them, the 
 larger one, left the fight first and in its 
 haste at self-preservation, came within a yard 
 of me. Now was my chance ! 
 
 I distinctly remember saying to myself : 
 " Make haste slowly, Tom Andy Bill, for you 
 or this bear will die within the next minute." 
 I therefore deliberately brought my gun to 
 my shoulder, aimed as accurately as possible 
 at the bear's heart, and pulled the trigger. 
 There was a blinding flash, a terrific roar, 
 and I felt as if a mule had tried to kick 
 me through the stone wall, so violent was 
 the rebound of the gun. Immediately after 
 I fired I saw the huge black brute spring 
 into the air, and then it fell upon me. I felt 
 the sharp bristles of its neck prick my face. 
 I remember feeling the blood from its wound 
 trickling through my clothing, and after that 
 I knew nothing until I awakened in bed at 
 home several hours later. 
 
 My father and Balser told me the story of
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 23 
 
 the happenings outside the cave during the 
 little eternity I spent inside with the dogs 
 and the bears. 
 
 My father said that when he came up to the 
 brink of the precipice over which Balser, I, 
 and the dogs had disappeared, he could see no 
 one, and supposed that we had all hurried 
 forward. Balser, of course, was at the foot of 
 the hill, and I had ridden the bear into the 
 cave, where the dogs had followed me. 
 Father called and presently Balser answered 
 from below ; then father ran to him, crying : 
 
 " Where is Tom Andy Bill ? " 
 
 " I don't know," returned Balser. " Isn't 
 he up there with the bears ? " 
 
 " Bears ? " cried father. "There are no bears 
 here." 
 
 " Well, they are there two big ones. 
 Tom Andy Bill and I jumped right down on 
 them. I rolled down hill and Lordy, 
 where on earth are Tom Andy Bill and the 
 dogs ? Tom Andy B-i-1-1 ! ! " cried Balser. 
 
 There was no response, for I, of course, 
 could not have heard thunder in the terrific 
 din the bears and the dogs were making in 
 the cave. Father and Balser called me and 
 looked everywhere, but it seemed as if the
 
 24 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 earth had opened and swallowed me. The 
 mouth of the cave was almost hidden by 
 bushes and father did not at once discover 
 it. After looking about for two or three 
 minutes, he came close to the opening and 
 indistinctly heard the barking of the dogs. 
 
 The noise coming from the cave seemed to 
 shoot out into the woods as a bullet is shot 
 from a gun. Father was deceived by the 
 peculiar effect, and thought the voices of the 
 dogs came from a spot opposite the mouth 
 of the cave. He and Balser, therefore, ran 
 in the direction whence the sound seemed 
 to come, and so were led away from me. 
 When they failed to find me and the dogs, 
 they were greatly alarmed and could not im- 
 agine what had become of us. Presently 
 Balser said : 
 
 " I know they are up there on the top of 
 the hill, near that little cliff, some place. I 
 certainly had not left them thirty seconds 
 when you came ! " 
 
 They hurried back to the vicinity of the 
 cave and began to search the place carefully. 
 All these mishaps and misunderstandings 
 consumed perhaps four or five minutes, dur- 
 ing which time it is one of the seven wonders
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 25 
 
 that the bears had not killed me. Balser 
 soon found the mouth of the cave, and father 
 came to my rescue. His eyes being unused 
 to the darkness, he could not see far into the 
 cave, but he heard the conflict between the 
 dogs and the bears, and he knew that I was 
 in the midst of it. 
 
 Father said he heard me cry out, though 
 I was unconscious of an effort to do anything 
 but to get through the stone wall at the back 
 of the cave. Father said he saw the flash of 
 my gun and did not stop for bears, dark- 
 ness, or anything. He ran in to save me, if 
 possible. He found the large bear lying on 
 top of me and supposed I was dead. He 
 said he did not see the other bear, but Balser 
 saw it and felt it too. When I fired and 
 killed the bear next me, the other one must 
 have concluded to get out of the cave, for it 
 started for fresh air just as Balser was stoop- 
 ing to enter. There was a collision, and 
 Balser took another trip down hill. He said 
 if he had rolled down that hill many more 
 times he would have acquired the habit. 
 
 Father pulled me out from under the bear, 
 and he and Balser carried me home on a 
 litter made from the limbs of a tree. A
 
 26 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 neighbor went next day and brought home 
 the bear, and father gave me the ten shillings 
 he received for its skin. The other bear got 
 away, but Balser and I thought we found it 
 afterward, as I will tell you to-morrow even- 
 ing, if I don't go to church. 
 
 Silence ensued for a moment or two, and 
 little Mab, who had sat open-eyed long after 
 the Sandman's visit was due, said : 
 
 " Well, I hope you won't go to church, 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill." 
 
 Die, who sat near her and was thankful 
 for the suggestion, seconded her motion 
 with: 
 
 "You bet!" 
 
 Mab slept in a cosey little room adjoining 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill's, and the door between 
 the rooms was always kept open so that she 
 need not be afraid. 
 
 " I suppose I'll be frightened to death to- 
 night, Uncle Tom Andy Bill," said Mab, 
 "and if I am, I am coming into your bed." 
 
 " All right, honey," answered Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill. 
 
 Then the two arose and started to bed, 
 Baby Mab leading him by the favorite finger.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE WOLVES AND THE POWDER KEG 
 
 We all recognized the fact that five-year- 
 old Mab was Uncle Tom Andy Bill's favor- 
 ite. He cared for her as tenderly as a 
 mother cares for her babe. Her large gray 
 eyes looked one squarely in the face and 
 never flinched from any gaze. It was the 
 most perfect example of " baby stare " I have 
 ever known. One could not lie to those 
 eyes without feeling that they were looking 
 right down into one's bad heart. She was 
 not conscious that a lie could be uttered by 
 herself or by any one else. She had not 
 reached her school majority, six, but she at- 
 tended my school. 
 
 Upon the day after Uncle Tom Andy 
 Bill's story, I noticed Mab whispering to her 
 neighbor across the aisle. 
 
 "What are you talking about, Mab?" I 
 asked. 
 
 She quickly straightened up, blushed, and 
 27
 
 28 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 said, " I just whispered to Die that I hoped 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill would not go to 
 church to-night." 
 
 " Was that all you said ? You have been 
 talking a long time," I suggested. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, Mab an- 
 swered, " I said maybe he would go to church 
 and come home late, and tell another story 
 to the older ones, and I said if he did, I just 
 could not stay awake that long." 
 
 " Was that all ? " I again asked, for I loved 
 to hear her explanations. They were mar- 
 vellous specimens of unique and unvar- 
 nished truth. 
 
 " No, that wasn't all," said Mab ; " I said I 
 expect it's wrong for me to wish that Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill wouldn't go to church, for 
 he might be damned, and that would hurt 
 him." 
 
 A ripple of laughter ran over the room. 
 
 "What does 'damned' mean, Mab?" I 
 asked. 
 
 Mab hesitated for a moment, and answered 
 somewhat haltingly : 
 
 " I don't know exactly, but the preacher 
 said if you didn't go to church, you would be 
 damned ; and when old Bill Grumpers told
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 29 
 
 Pat Hillis to ' be damned,' he hit him with 
 his fist and knocked Pat down, and I don't 
 want any one to knock Uncle Tom Andy 
 Bill down." 
 
 " I should hope not," said I, fighting my 
 desire to laugh. Then I asked, " Have you 
 said all you want to say to Die? " 
 
 "Yes, for a little while," answered Mab. 
 Another wave of laughter ran through the 
 room, and I turned my face to the wall. 
 
 Whispering in school is a terrible crime ; 
 but when Mab had anything to say, I did not 
 try to cork it in, for it would get out in some 
 way. At the end of ten minutes I saw the 
 familiar expression of eager inquisitiveness 
 come upon her face, and I knew that some- 
 thing interesting would soon happen. I 
 tried to keep her from catching my eye, but 
 it was impossible to dodge the beseeching 
 little face. Presently she held up her 
 chubby hand, and I asked : 
 
 " What is it, Mab ? " 
 
 She sprang to her feet in the aisle and 
 anxiously inquired : 
 
 " Do you think any one would damn Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill clear down to the ground 
 if he doesn't go to church to-night ? "
 
 3 o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I had urgent business at the blackboard, 
 and the school enjoyed another wave of laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 I knew that Mab's tender little heart was 
 brooding over possible future trouble for her 
 friend of friends, so I turned to her and said : 
 
 " No one will hurt Uncle Tom Andy Bill, 
 Mab, even if he doesn't go to church, so you 
 need not worry about it." 
 
 A happy, contented expression at once 
 came to the baby girl's face, and the ques- 
 tion of Uncle Tom Andy Bill's " damnation " 
 was settled, at least for the time being. 
 
 That evening at the supper table, Mab, 
 who sat next to Uncle Tom Andy Bill, whis- 
 pered : 
 
 " Are you going to church to-night ? " 
 
 " No. Why, Mab ? " asked Uncle Tom. 
 
 " Because maybe you'll tell us another 
 story," answered Mab. 
 
 " Did you like the one last night ? " asked 
 the story-teller. 
 
 " Yes," eagerly responded Mab. 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because it frightened me and made me 
 feel so nice and shivery, and made my feet 
 cold."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 31 
 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill laughed softly, and 
 said : 
 
 " Those surely are delightful sensations. 
 We'll see about it after supper." 
 
 " Let's hurry and eat," said Die, and every 
 one, including myself, did hurry. . 
 
 After supper the boys eagerly built a huge 
 fire in the fireplace. Mab got Uncle Tom's 
 pipe, drew her chair close to his side, and a 
 most flattering hush fell upon the expectant 
 audience. 
 
 Tom Andy Bill silently smoked his pipe, 
 and the audience soon got restless. After 
 waiting a few minutes, Mab came across the 
 hearth to me, and said in a whisper that 
 could be heard all over the room : 
 
 " Tell him to please begin." 
 
 Mab, as usual, " got a laugh," as the actors 
 say. Uncle Tom laughed too, and said : 
 
 " I can't tell a story as it ought to be told. 
 I'm too ignorant and haven't the gift of " 
 
 A chorus of protests silenced the modest 
 one, and in a moment he continued : 
 
 " I don't know just what to tell you," said 
 he. " There are lots of things I might tell 
 you about. I am eager to tell you about the 
 Indian treasure, but so many things happened
 
 32 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 to Balser and me both before and after we 
 learned about it that I am afraid I will have 
 to tell you several stories to let you know the 
 full history. After we learned about the 
 treasure, it, of course, was the one great 
 thought on our minds, but in our effort to 
 discover it, a great many adventures befell us ; 
 and I believe I will tell you the little history 
 of our boyhood life at that time, and bring 
 in the events in the order in which they 
 happened." 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 This evening I'll tell you a story about the 
 night Balser and I spent in a tree. I rec- 
 ollect it vividly. It was midwinter and it 
 was cold. Snow had come early that year, 
 and after it had covered the ground and fes- 
 tooned the trees, the cold weather began in 
 earnest and remained in earnest until spring. 
 The Indians have a proverb: "Cold weather 
 makes good fur," and they are right. Provi- 
 dence never sends an evil without at the same 
 time sending a compensating good. If He 
 sends a cold winter, He also gives the ani- 
 mals a thick, beautiful coat of fur to keep 
 them warm. After a week or two of very
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 33 
 
 cold weather, the fur grows thick and 
 glossy ; therefore pelts taken in a cold 
 season are far more valuable and beautiful 
 than those taken during a warm, open winter. 
 When the cold snap began, Balser and 
 I got our traps ready, polished our guns, 
 sharpened our knives, moulded bullets, and 
 invested every dollar we could raise in 
 powder. We also cut a great number of 
 hazel forks. These were forked branches of 
 the hazel bush, and were used in stretching 
 pelts. When a small, fur-bearing animal, as 
 the beaver, mink, or weasel, was caught, it was 
 killed by a blow on the head to avoid injur- 
 ing the pelt. Then a slit was made in the 
 skin of the hind legs of the animal, and the 
 pelt was drawn over the head as Mab pulls her 
 stocking over her foot and finds it wrong side 
 out when she gets it off. When the pelt was 
 removed from the body, the fur was inside 
 and the skin was shaped like a sack. Into 
 this sack we thrust the hazel forks, allowing 
 the prongs to spring apart and stretch the 
 pelt. It was then hung up to cure. It 
 would, of course, cure better in cold weather ; 
 in warm weather we had to treat it with 
 arsenic.
 
 34 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I was only fifteen years old at the time oi 
 which I speak, but I bought the forty acres 
 of ground on which this house stands with 
 my share of the money realized from the sale 
 of the pelts taken by Balser and me that 
 winter. Of course the land was cheap. 
 
 One day, Balser and I being all ready, 
 we started out with the dogs, Tige and 
 Prince. We took a sleigh loaded with traps, 
 guns, tanned bearskins, potatoes, beans, corn- 
 meal, lard, butter, and all the provisions we 
 would need except meat. We could easily 
 kill quails, rabbits, and deer enough to keep 
 us in meat for six months if the weather 
 remained cold. 
 
 A donkey belonging to Balser drew the 
 sled. We called the donkey " Solomon " 
 because he looked so wise; and he in no 
 way belied his appearance or his name. He 
 had an enormous head, and was more of a 
 philosopher than the average school-teacher. 
 He was as peaceful as a Quaker, but, like 
 the Quakers, he could fight like forty wild- 
 cats if occasion arose, as you will agree 
 when I tell you the story of his fight with a 
 pack of wolves. 
 
 Balser, I, and the dogs started out before
 
 
 I 
 
 A. 
 
 r v ? 
 
 (/ 
 
 " Wk called the donkey ' Solomon ' "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 35 
 
 sun-up one morning, and by noon we 
 reached a small cabin that we had built on 
 the banks of Brandywine, eight or ten miles 
 distant from home. The cabin consisted of 
 one small room and a mud-plastered stick 
 chimney. The ground was our floor and 
 the clapboard roof was our ceiling ; there- 
 fore, although the logs were chinked tightly 
 with mud and grass, the cabin was hardly as 
 warm as an oven when the weather was at 
 its coldest, though it was cosey enough if the 
 wind did not blow. 
 
 During the summer and fall Balser and I 
 had prepared for this expedition by cutting a 
 huge pile of firewood and stacking it near 
 the cabin door. We also harvested a great 
 quantity of marsh grass that served to 
 make our beds, and to feed Solomon. The 
 donkey, however, was not confined to a diet 
 of marsh grass, for we took with us corn 
 and oats for the wise one. Balser said that 
 oats was good brain food, and that Solomon's 
 great brain would need sustenance. 
 
 Thus provided for, Solomon on Brandy- 
 wine was as happy a donkey as ever lived, 
 for he, following the example of his master, 
 seemed to love the wild life we were living
 
 36 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 in the trackless forest. There was hay for 
 his manger and hay for his bed, and there 
 were corn and oats in plenty ; so after he was 
 installed in his little log stable, all he had to 
 do was to eat, sleep, and sing, and he did all 
 three with the entire energy of his forceful 
 nature. At times, growing lonesome deep 
 in the night, he would sing to us from his 
 stable, nor would he cease until Balser 
 answered him in his own language ; then he 
 would go to sleep and sing no more till he 
 was hungry next morning. We needed no 
 alarm to waken us ; Solomon was a veritable 
 town clock, and no one could have slept 
 while he poured forth his soul in song. 
 
 Solomon's stable was built a hundred 
 yards south of our hut, very close to the 
 banks of the creek. Our purpose in building 
 it so far away was to use it, not only as 
 a stable, but as a magazine for our powder, 
 which we wished to store as far away as 
 possible from our fire. We wrapped the 
 powder keg in bearskins, and placed it just 
 inside the door of Solomon's stable. 
 
 I remember well our first winter day at the 
 cabin. Oh, but it was cold ! Our hands 
 and feet were like pieces of ice when we
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 37 
 
 reached our destination. Solomon had been 
 working very hard, and he was warm ; but 
 Balser declared when we stopped at the 
 cabin that the donkey was trying to tell us 
 that the tips of his long ears were frozen, so 
 we held a handful of snow to them for a 
 moment to draw out the frost, and Solomon 
 seemed grateful. He was of so grateful a 
 nature that I believe he would have thanked 
 us for a kick if he felt that it was admin- 
 istered for his good. 
 
 After arriving at the cabin, our first task 
 was to unhitch Solomon and put him in the 
 stable, which was as warm and cosey a 
 shelter as any donkey could ask; then we 
 gave him a good feed of corn and filled his 
 manger with sweet hay. Solomon, when 
 fairly installed, sang a little song of thanks- 
 giving and fell upon the corn and hay with a 
 zest that would have done your heart good 
 to see. 
 
 Then we carried a great armful of wood 
 into the cabin, spread our bed with sweet- 
 smelling hay, and lighted a roaring fire 
 in the fireplace. We warmed our hands 
 and feet, ate dinner, and brought the sled- 
 load of traps, provisions, etc., into the cabin,
 
 38 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 where we stored them on shelves about the 
 walls. At four o'clock, everything being in 
 its place, we took our guns and went out to 
 kill a rabbit for supper. This was quickly 
 done. We skinned the rabbit, placed it on 
 the ice in the creek, and covered it with 
 snow to cool the meat; then we went into 
 the cabin, built up the fire afresh, and pre- 
 pared supper. 
 
 When the potatoes and corn-bread were 
 nearly baked, we brought in the rabbit, cut 
 it in pieces, and placed it on the coals to 
 broil. When the meat was well done, we 
 sat down on our chairs at the table and ate 
 our supper. My life, how we did eat ! You 
 notice I said we sat down on our chairs 
 at the table. The chairs were two small 
 stumps, and the table was a large one 
 standing between the chairs. These three 
 stumps we had left within the cabin. We 
 had smoothed the tops with a saw and had 
 chopped away all obtruding roots and bark. 
 
 When supper was finished, we sat gazing 
 into the fire, talking a little and dreaming a 
 great deal, until we were startled by a most 
 tremendous noise coming from a short way 
 down the creek. We sprang to our feet
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 39 
 
 somewhat frightened, but soon we laughed 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 " Solomon is singing for corn ! " 
 
 I went to the stable, led Solomon to the 
 creek, where we had cut a hole in the ice, 
 gave him a drink, took him back, fed him 
 his corn and fresh hay, made a soft, warm 
 bed for him to lie on, and closed his stable 
 door for the night. 
 
 When I got back to the cabin, Balser had 
 cleared up the supper table by the simple 
 process of throwing the scraps and the rab- 
 bit bones to the dogs. 
 
 Being very tired, we were almost ready 
 for bed. We each had a bearskin sleeping- 
 bag, so, after we had banked the fire, we 
 crept into our bags and slept until we heard 
 the voice of Solomon calling for corn. Next 
 day we placed our traps and began hunting. 
 
 I don't recollect that any adventure worth 
 telling befell us during the first two weeks of 
 our residence on Brandywine. The beaver 
 dams were all frozen in, and although there 
 were two large ones within a mile of us, we 
 had caught only three of the little animals 
 during the first fortnight. We had, how- 
 ever, killed a large number of minks, weasels,
 
 40 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 and muskrats, and had taken no less than 
 six red foxes with the most beautiful coats 
 and brushes I have ever seen. 
 
 We had also killed a fat young bear, that 
 furnished meat for ourselves and the dogs, 
 and had shot two gray wolves. For the tails 
 of these wolves we would receive a bounty of 
 fifty cents each from the county, and the 
 wolf pelts, taken during the cold winter, 
 were so perfect that we hoped to receive not 
 less than a dollar apiece for them. 
 
 Aside from bear and beaver, the wolf was 
 the most valuable game we could take, but it 
 was also the hardest to find, the most diffi- 
 cult to kill when found, and the most dan- 
 gerous to pursue if found in packs. We 
 could set no trap that would take them. 
 We tried every way to conceal the traps, but 
 the wolves always scented the danger and 
 avoided it. To secure a wolfskin, one must 
 shoot the wolf. 
 
 For two weeks the story of our life was 
 the same from day to day. We breakfasted 
 soon after sun-up, visited our traps and 
 hunted until noon, stretched the pelts in 
 the afternoon, stored them in Solomon's 
 stable, ate our supper, sat before the great
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 41 
 
 blazing fire, talking and dreaming, crept into 
 our sleeping-bags, and slept until morning. 
 At the expiration of two weeks something 
 did happen. 
 
 One night Balser and I were sitting be- 
 fore the fire. We had killed a wolf that day. 
 
 " I wish we had a hundred wolf skins and 
 tails," said he. 
 
 " I'd like to have a thousand," said I. 
 
 " Tom Andy Bill, you always were a pig," 
 returned Balser. 
 
 " If I'm going to be a pig at all, I'll be a 
 big one," said I. " You're a pig for wanting 
 a hundred wolf pelts. The only difference 
 between us is in size." 
 
 We laughed and continued to talk about 
 wolves until we were sleepy. Then we crept 
 into our bearskin bags and dreamed about 
 wolves. 
 
 In the middle of the night Balser wakened 
 me, saying : 
 
 " Listen to Solomon, Tom Andy Bill. 
 Something is wrong." 
 
 I listened and heard Solomon's plaintive 
 voice borne in upon the cold night air. 
 
 " He wants his corn," said I. " Confound 
 him, I wish he wouldn't get hungry so early."
 
 42 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " It's not early," said Balser. " It is surely 
 not past midnight. Solomon is not singing 
 for corn. He is in trouble. Listen, Tom 
 Andy Bill, listen ! Wolves ! Wolves ! " 
 
 The dogs, sleeping in front of the fire, be- 
 gan to bark. I silenced them, and Balser 
 and I listened. Soon the howling of the 
 wolves began again, far away at first, but 
 coming nearer and nearer every moment. 
 Balser got out of his sleeping-bag, stirred the 
 fire to make a light, and reached for his gun, 
 powder-horn, and bullet bag. I quickly fol- 
 lowed his example. 
 
 The odor from the pelts in Solomon's 
 stable had attracted the wolves, and we must 
 go to the rescue of our friend and our treas- 
 ure. When we had taken down our guns, 
 we again paused to listen, and soon caught 
 the wolfish refrain. It seemed to be almost 
 upon us, and judging from the frightful noise 
 they made, we thought surely the woods 
 was full of them. In the lulls between 
 their spells of howling, we distinctly heard 
 Solomon calling wildly for help. There 
 was a note in his cry that was plainly 
 different from his corn song. We hesitated 
 to leave the cabin, for of all the dangers a
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 43 
 
 hunter has to encounter, a pack of hungry 
 wolves on a cold night is the greatest ; but 
 we could not leave Solomon and his treasure 
 to the mercy of the wolves. They would 
 soon tear down the poorly constructed door 
 of his stable and then good-by to Solo- 
 mon and all his glory! Hard pressed by 
 fear, we reluctantly marched to the rescue. 
 In the battle we were to fight, the dogs 
 would be of no help to us ; the wolves 
 would devour them before they could have a 
 chance even to bark. So we left them in 
 the cabin and shut the door upon them. 
 
 When we got outside, we found the night 
 very cold and clear. The moon was full and 
 the light upon the snow almost turned night 
 into day. At the door of Solomon's stable 
 we saw two wolves, and Balser said : 
 
 " By George, I believe there are only two 
 of them. Who would have thought that 
 two wolves could make all that noise ? " 
 
 " They didn't make it," said I. " There's 
 a big pack close by, you may depend on it, 
 and we had better stay near home. We'll 
 take a shot at our friends over there by the 
 stable door, but let's keep the way of retreat 
 clear to our own door."
 
 44 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I was about to shoot when Balser said: 
 " Don't shoot from here, Tom Andy Bill. 
 If you miss the wolves, the bullet might go 
 through the door or between the logs of the 
 stable, and then poor old Solomon might 
 come to grief. Let us go around to the 
 other side, where we can shoot at the wolves 
 without endangering Solomon's life." 
 
 We went toward the other side of the 
 stable and soon found ourselves in the deep, 
 black forest. The stable was now between 
 us and the cabin, and I suggested to Balser 
 the danger of the pack cutting off our retreat. 
 By the time we were ready to shoot at the 
 wolves we had seen near the stable door, 
 they had disappeared, and we heard a fright- 
 ful din like the howling of a host of demons 
 let loose upon the world. The thing we had 
 feared had come to pass. The howling came 
 nearer and nearer. We knew then that a 
 large pack of wolves, led, probably, by one of 
 the two that had been at the stable door, 
 was approaching. We started to run for 
 the cabin, but we were too late ; the wolves 
 had cut off our retreat. When they saw us, 
 they at once charged in our direction. We 
 fired into the pack, but while we must have
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 45 
 
 killed at least two of their number, we did 
 not check their onrush. 
 
 " Run for your life and climb a tree," cried 
 Balser. 
 
 But I was running before he had uttered 
 the first word of warning, and he was com- 
 ing after me as fast as he could run. We 
 were so frightened that we made wonder- 
 ful speed and soon reached a tree that we 
 could climb, standing twenty yards from 
 Solomon's stable. We could not climb 
 rapidly, being encumbered with our guns, so 
 we threw them to the ground and started 
 up the tree without them. I went first. I 
 hurried to get out of Balser's way and was 
 none too quick, for the wolves were swarm- 
 ing about the tree just as Balser drew his 
 feet up out of their reach. I tell you, those 
 were busy times ! It did not take us long 
 to straddle a limb, and to thank heaven that 
 we were not on the ground. Had we been 
 at the root of the tree, the wolves would 
 have torn us to pieces in less time than Mab 
 could say " Christmas." 
 
 The limb on which Balser and I found 
 refuge was not more than ten feet from the 
 ground, and the hungry wolves, in their
 
 46 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 desperation, sprang almost up to us. Of 
 course, they could not jump ten feet into the 
 air, but they forced us to draw up our feet 
 so quickly and so often that Balser said he 
 felt as though he were dancing a jig. 
 
 The noise the wolves made was terrifying 
 beyond anything you can imagine. We 
 were safe for the time, but we were terribly 
 frightened, and although we were accus- 
 tomed to danger, the strain upon our nerves 
 was all that we could bear. 
 
 I do not know what hour it was when we 
 climbed the tree, but I do know that it 
 seemed ages while we waited through the 
 long cold night, listening to the awful wolf 
 concert. After a long, shivering silence, 
 Balser said: 
 
 " Their noise is not pleasant, but I hope 
 the wolves will remain here howling at us. I 
 hope they will not think of attacking Solo- 
 mon. If he keeps still, perhaps they will 
 forget him, and when they find they cannot 
 reach us, they may go away." 
 
 " Don't build any hopes on their going 
 away," I answered ; " hungry wolves never 
 let up." 
 
 We sat in the tree hour after hour, and
 
 " they forced us to draw up "ik fkkt so often that 
 Bai.ser said he ff.i.t as if he was hanging a jig"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 47 
 
 the wolves did not desert us. My life, but it 
 was cold ! I thought my very blood would 
 freeze. We watched the east, hoping for 
 the break of dawn, but the sun seemed to be 
 stuck down below the horizon somewhere, 
 and I almost lost hope for the dawning of 
 another day. Balser and I sat very close to 
 each other to save what warmth we could. 
 When he grew drowsy, I did all in my power 
 to arouse him, and he performed the same 
 service for me. Great cold produces drowsi- 
 ness, and if sleep should overtake one under 
 conditions such as ours were, all hope is lost ; 
 one is apt to freeze to death. But in our 
 case there was a danger to be feared from 
 sleep greater than that of freezing. If we be- 
 came unconscious, we might fall to the ground, 
 and then the good Lord only could help us. 
 The pack of wolves howling under us was 
 the largest I ever saw. They numbered at 
 least fifteen. All of them seemed of tre- 
 mendous size, but the captain or leader was 
 the largest wolf I have ever seen. These 
 sagacious animals choose a leader with more 
 deliberation and, in many instances, with 
 more intelligence than we use in selecting 
 our officers.
 
 48 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 At intervals the wolves would become 
 quiet for a time, and peace would reign for a 
 minute or two, but the big, hungry captain 
 would soon jump for us again, uttering a ter- 
 rific howl. He might have been called the 
 " howl master," for, like a singing teacher, 
 he gave the key-note and the wolf choir took 
 up the refrain. 
 
 I cannot at all describe to you the tedious, 
 frightful hours of fear and pain we passed in 
 the tree, but, after what seemed a lifetime of 
 agony, we saw a few faint gray streaks com- 
 ing in the east, followed by a blush of pink, 
 and soon the sun was up. We had hoped 
 that the wolves would leave at sunrise, but 
 they clung to us with a persistency that we 
 could have admired in a better cause. 
 
 " I believe they have forgotten Solomon," 
 said I. 
 
 " Yes," answered Balser ; " I wish they 
 would forget us, but they never will. There's 
 not a house within five miles, and no one 
 will come near us till spring. I tell you, 
 Tom Andy Bill, if the wolves hold out much 
 longer, they will get one good square meal, 
 and its name will be Balser. I can't endure 
 this much longer. I'm almost dead, and I 
 know my toes are frozen."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 49 
 
 I, too, was hardly alive, but I spoke cheer- 
 ingly when my chattering teeth would allow 
 me to speak at all, and said : 
 
 "You're not half dead yet, Balser, and 
 you'll see the wolves will go away before 
 noon." 
 
 44 No, they won't," declared Balser. 44 They 
 howled around father's palisade for two whole 
 days, trying to get at our sheep. One wolf, 
 if alone, will howl and run away, but a dozen 
 will howl to keep each other's courage up 
 and will hang on like grim death." 
 
 Soon after sun-up Solomon began to sing 
 for corn. Poor beast ! He did not know the 
 true state of affairs or he would have sung 
 for danger. The donkey's voice caught the 
 attention of the wolf leader. He stood for 
 a moment with his ears cocked forward ; 
 then he started for the stable, and the pack 
 followed, howling like mad. 
 
 The real sum total of a man's life seems 
 to be made up of a multitude of little things, 
 as the vast ocean beach is made up of tiny 
 grains of sand. Even the few great things 
 that happen in his life seem to hang upon an 
 insignificant act done or left undone. Upon 
 one of these little acts hung our fate, and
 
 50 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Solomon's, at the dawning of that bright 
 winter morning. 
 
 The little peg upon which our fate hung 
 was the fact that Balser and I had swung the 
 door of Solomon's stable to open in instead 
 of out. The door consisted of small poles 
 spliced together and swung by thongs of 
 wild grape-vines to a small upright post that 
 constituted one side of the door frame. The 
 construction was rough and not very strong. 
 
 Had the door opened outward, the wolves 
 could not have battered it down by jumping 
 against it, and while Solomon would perhaps 
 have been safer, we should have been lost; 
 for Balser was right, the wolves would not 
 have left us. We could not have held out 
 much longer in the tree, and there's no "give 
 up" to a pack of hungry wolves. They 
 would have remained with us, I do believe, 
 till doomsday, had we held out so long, if 
 they had been unable to break in the flimsy 
 door of Solomon's stable. When we built 
 the stable we had intended to hang the door 
 swinging outward, but in our haste to finish 
 our work, we hung it swinging in the stable, 
 and after it was hung we did not care to take 
 it down.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 51 
 
 When the wolves left us, they made a dash 
 for Solomon, and soon his corn song changed 
 to a cry for help. The wolves circled about 
 the stable, searching for the weakest place 
 and howling like demons. Don't tell me 
 a wolf can't reason. The leader examined 
 every log and opening in the structure and 
 discovered the door almost as quickly as a 
 man would have found it. We could see 
 the captain and his pack clearly, for by this 
 time the sun was high above the horizon. 
 Our hearts ached for poor Solomon, for we 
 loved him and we felt that his fate was 
 sealed. 
 
 The wolves seemed to hold a consultation 
 for a moment at the door ; then the leader 
 said something to the pack, and they all ran 
 back from the stable a distance of perhaps 
 sixty feet. Then, like a rock from a cata- 
 pult, they threw themselves upon the stable 
 door. The grape-vine hinges were tough, 
 and the first onslaught failed to break them. 
 Disappointed in their attack, the wolves 
 seemed to hold a second council of war. 
 
 " Rub my hands, Tom Andy Bill," said 
 Balser, hurriedly ; " rub them and pound 
 them ! Do anything to bring back the blood
 
 52 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 so that I can grip the tree and slide down 
 to get the guns." 
 
 I belabored poor Balser r s half -frozen hands 
 and soon restored the life to them. Then 
 he quickly slipped down the tree, handed 
 the guns up to me, and made ready to climb 
 back to our perch upon the limb. While 
 he was standing at the foot of the tree, 
 rubbing his hands, the wolves started in our 
 direction. 
 
 " The wolves, the wolves ! " I cried ; " they 
 are coming! Hurry or they will be on 
 you ! " 
 
 Balser grasped the tree, but his hands 
 were so cold and he was so nearly frozen 
 that he made poor headway. He thought 
 he was lost, for he knew the wolves had seen 
 him, and were coming toward him like a 
 howling gray wave of an angry sea. I, too, 
 expected Balser to be torn to pieces before 
 my eyes, but for some reason the wolves 
 paused a second or two, and I, catching Bal- 
 ser by the hand, pulled him up to safety. 
 
 The powder-horns and bullet bags were 
 hanging by their strings about our necks, 
 so when Balser was once more seated beside 
 me, we rubbed each other's stiff hands, until
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 53 
 
 we manipulated them into a condition suffi- 
 ciently supple to load our guns. 
 
 The wolves howled at our tree for only a 
 moment. Having failed to catch Balser, they 
 returned to their attack upon Solomon's door, 
 and repeated their former tactics. They re- 
 treated fifty or sixty feet and then made a 
 mighty onrush with a howl in concert that 
 must have frozen poor Solomon's blood. 
 
 When the wolf wave dashed against the 
 door the second time, it partially gave way, 
 but did not fall in. In their effort to com- 
 plete their work, the wolves gathered about 
 the door in a dense mass. By that time 
 Balser and I had loaded our guns, and when 
 the wolves were huddled together, we fired 
 into them. We must have killed at least 
 two, but our shots had no apparent effect 
 upon the attacking force. We loaded and 
 fired again, but we did not in the least dis- 
 turb the enemy. Again the pack retreated, 
 and again they rushed upon the frail door. 
 This time it fell in, and we felt that it was 
 all over with Solomon. 
 
 But, intimate as we had been with Solo- 
 mon, we did not fully know him, nor had we 
 any adequate idea of the tremendous reserve
 
 54 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 power in his heels. The door, fortunately, 
 was narrow, and only two or three wolves 
 could pass through it at the same time. 
 When it fell, the wolves rushed in, but they 
 rushed out again, one by one, in quick suc- 
 cession. They came out as if they had been 
 shot out of a gun, and several of them fell 
 many feet away after describing a beautiful 
 curve over the backs of their friends outside 
 of the stable. 
 
 With the rocket-like exit of each wolf 
 Balser and I caught glimpses of Solomon's 
 twinkling hoofs, elevated at an angle which 
 indicated that their owner was trying to 
 stand on his head. The hoofs were shod 
 with sharp steel calks for ice travelling, and 
 they must have inflicted terrible punishment 
 upon those wolves that were unfortunate 
 enough to become acquainted with them. 
 
 Again and again the. wolves attacked the 
 brave donkey, but his heels soon taught 
 them caution and they became wary. Per- 
 sistently they kept up the battle, and it 
 seemed as if Solomon could not hold out 
 much longer against such odds. Soon two 
 or three wolves would effect an entrance, 
 and would pull poor old Solomon down
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 55 
 
 to death. In the midst of the unequal con- 
 flict, I noticed a large, bulky object fly out 
 through the door from Solomon's heels. It 
 fell perhaps thirty feet from the stable and 
 rolled a few feet farther, stopping thirty-five 
 or forty feet from us. 
 
 " There goes our powder keg ! " cried Bal- 
 ser ; " Solomon has kicked it out." 
 
 The wolves left the stable door and fell 
 upon the powder keg. At first we could 
 not understand what use they could make 
 of the powder, but we soon remembered 
 that we had wrapped the keg in bearskins to 
 keep the powder dry, and we knew that the 
 wolves were devouring the skins. The hun- 
 gry beasts pounced upon the keg and formed 
 a pyramid of wolves above it. They fought 
 for the bearskins, and were piled on top of 
 one another like a mass of swarming bees. 
 
 I drew up my gun and fired into the mass. 
 My shot produced no apparent effect. Bal- 
 ser fired immediately afterward, and his shot 
 produced a decided effect a most wonder- 
 ful effect. A terrific explosion that almost 
 knocked us from the tree followed Balser's 
 shot, and the pack of wolves was nearly ex- 
 terminated. When the smoke drifted away,
 
 56 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 we saw wolves dead and wounded lying about 
 us in all directions, and not a live, unwounded 
 wolf was to be seen. Those that had escaped 
 death or mutilation had fled in terror. 
 
 We climbed down from the tree, ran to 
 the house for the axe and hatchet, and killed 
 more wolves in five minutes than I have 
 ever killed in five years. 
 
 "How do you suppose it happened?" I 
 asked of Balser. 
 
 " My bullet must have struck the powder 
 keg," he answered. " Perhaps the powder 
 was ignited by friction, or a lighted piece of 
 gun wad may have clung to the bullet. I'm 
 sure I don't know how it happened ; but 
 without it, Solomon, at least, would by this 
 time have been numbered with his fathers." 
 
 After we had killed the wounded wolves 
 I think there were eight of them we 
 stood in amazement, hardly able to believe 
 that we were alive, when suddenly we were 
 aroused by the corn song of Solomon. We 
 went into the stable to feed him, and found 
 that sagacious donkey as calm and quiet as 
 if nothing at all unusual had occurred. 
 
 " How did you happen to think of kick- 
 ing out the powder keg ? " Balser asked of
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 57 
 
 Solomon, while he was giving him his corn. 
 Solomon simply wagged his ears knowingly, 
 as if to say : 
 
 " Let me alone for thinking of the right 
 thing at the right time, and doing it, too."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WYANDOTTE, THE INDIAN 
 
 One cold evening we were all sitting 
 around the fire waiting for our story. Sev- 
 eral suggestive hints had fallen from eager 
 members of the audience. Mab had coax- 
 ingly lifted her chubby little hand to Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill's knee two or three times, 
 but the curtain didn't rise. The old man 
 sat smoking, and we were all very much 
 afraid there would be no story that evening. 
 All eyes were turned toward Mab for help, 
 and soon she began to feel that the respon- 
 sibility of the situation rested on her little 
 shoulders, so she climbed into Uncle Tom's 
 lap, put her arms around his neck, and whis- 
 pered in his ear: 
 
 " Please, please, Uncle Tom, tell us an- 
 other story." 
 
 Then she slid down between his knees, 
 resumed her rocking-chair by his side, caress- 
 ingly took the favorite finger in her hand, 
 and Uncle Tom Andy Bill was conquered. 
 
 58
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 59 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 I'm blest if I know what to give you to- 
 night, but I believe I'll tell you about our 
 first meeting with Wyandotte, the Indian. 
 It was from him we had the hint of the won- 
 derful Indian treasure that afterward led us 
 into so much trouble. Our first meeting 
 with him occurred five or six days before 
 Balser and I had our terrific fight with three 
 bears. I'll tell you about the fight, too, but 
 as our meeting with Wyandotte occurred 
 first, I will begin by telling you about him. 
 
 After Solomon's victory over the wolves 
 (it was Solomon's victory, and we had little 
 to do with the glorious affair), we led a 
 peaceful life, and nothing occurred during 
 ten days that would make even Mab's little 
 toe cold, except the weather. My life ! but 
 it was cold, and Balser and I hugged the 
 fire every night. 
 
 After Solomon kicked out the powder 
 keg, we went home and bought another keg 
 on credit, for we had taken enough pelts to 
 pay for a great deal of powder. 
 
 We built a strong door to Solomon's 
 stable, though we had no fear of another
 
 60 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 attack from wolves. Those that escaped 
 would tell other wolves of the sad catastrophe 
 that befell their pack, and they, in turn, 
 would tell others. The news would travel 
 like wildfire throughout all wolf-land, and no 
 temptation would induce a wolf that had 
 heard of the explosion to visit the spot* 
 This statement may seem to be overdrawn, 
 but I have known a great many wolves in 
 my day, and I am thoroughly convinced that 
 they warn each other of danger. I don't ask 
 any one else to believe it, but / believe it. 
 
 No animal is more anxious to take care 
 of itself than a wolf. For caution, cunning, 
 hunger, and general depravity, I place the 
 wolf at the head of all four-footed animals. 
 It has the start of some that walk on two 
 legs, except, perhaps, in the matter of de- 
 pravity. In that respect, of course, we'll 
 have to give the palm to man. 
 
 Nevertheless, we barricaded Solomon's 
 stable so strongly that he could have with- 
 stood a siege from all the wolves in Indiana, 
 and the wise donkey fully appreciated our 
 efforts for his protection. 
 
 We fortified our own house, too, and 
 although the weather was terribly cold, we
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 61 
 
 soon became used to the freezing tempera- 
 ture, and I believe that never in my life was 
 I happier or more contented than in our 
 cabin on Brandywine. Every morning we 
 visited our traps and hunted until late dinner- 
 time ; then we prepared the pelts, stretched 
 them on thongs, and hung them up to cure. 
 This kept us busy until supper-time. 
 
 Before eating we changed our buckskin 
 coats and trousers for woollen clothes, 
 scrubbed ourselves thoroughly with soap and 
 water, for the odor of the pelts was anything 
 but pleasant, and the rest of the evening 
 belonged to us and to the fire. 
 
 Deer meat, rabbits, quail, wild turkeys, 
 and pheasants, the product of our guns and 
 traps, hung in plenty from the limbs of near- 
 by trees, well out of reach of foxes and other 
 prowlers, and the meat, being frozen, was 
 kept sweet by the cold. When we were 
 ready for supper, which was our one great 
 meal, we went out to our forest pantry, 
 selected the game we wanted on our bill of 
 fare, and proceeded to cook it. We baked 
 potatoes in the ashes, made sweet, yellow 
 corn pone in our Dutch oven, broiled a juicy 
 piece of venison, a rabbit, or a half-dozen
 
 62 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 quails, and I tell you, we had a supper fit for 
 a king. 
 
 After supper we sat on our stump chairs 
 before the fire, cracking walnuts, hazelnuts, 
 and hickory-nuts for dessert. We loved to 
 hear the wind howling through the trees, 
 and to hear the snow or sleet dashing 
 against our roof, for we were cosey and warm 
 before our big, talkative fire, and we knew 
 that Solomon, half covered by his soft bed of 
 hay, was snoring happily in his warm stable 
 near by. 
 
 One day two hunters wandered by our 
 cabin, and told us that Raster's barn over on 
 Blue had burned a week before. They said 
 that an old Indian had been seen in the 
 vicinity of the barn, and the sheriff of the 
 county was hunting for him to arrest him for 
 burning it. That evening, after supper, 
 Balser and I were sitting before the fire. I 
 was cracking nuts and Balser was trying to 
 smoke tobacco in a pipe that he had whittled 
 from a brier root. Oh ! but he was sick 
 but that has nothing to do with the story. 
 
 " I don't believe Raster's barn was burned 
 by an Indian," said Balser. " There are a 
 lot of white vagabonds loafing about Blue
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 63 
 
 River who are a great deal worse than the 
 Indians." 
 
 " You're right, Balser," said I. " Some 
 white folks hate the Indians, and seem to 
 forget that God made them. If we would 
 treat them right, they would not molest us. 
 Our white trash steal from them, abuse them, 
 and kill them ; and when an Indian retaliates, 
 we all grow righteously indignant and want 
 to exterminate the whole race of red men. 
 It's a shame, Balser. When a thief steals 
 something, he does not cry, ' Stop thief ! ' 
 but he screams, ' Indian ! Indian ! ' If a 
 white rascal has a grudge against his neigh- 
 bor and burns the neighbor's barn, he im- 
 mediately says he saw an Indian prowling 
 about, and the sheriff and all the settlement 
 turn out to hunt down the poor savage. Any 
 Indian they find will serve their purpose 
 and he is made to bear the sins of his white 
 brother." 
 
 Several days passed. We had forgotten 
 all about Raster's barn, and thought nothing 
 more about the wrongs of the Indian. The 
 cold weather had begun to break, though it 
 was still very cold. I especially remember 
 one stormy day. We had taken several
 
 64 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 beavers that day, and had been unusually 
 successful with other game. The sun was 
 going down as Balser and I were walking 
 toward the cabin, after hanging the result of 
 our day's work in Solomon's stable. The sky 
 in the west was an angry, black red, and the 
 wind blew in sullen, fitful gusts. Dark, 
 threatening clouds flew rapidly overhead, as 
 if bent on an errand of mischief, and the day 
 seemed to be closing with a frown and a growl. 
 
 " We'll have rain before an hour," said 
 Balser. " Then when the sun is down and 
 the weather turns colder, look out for snow 
 and sleet and a blizzard." 
 
 " We'll be comfortable anyway," said I, 
 " and Solomon is snug and warm and happy." 
 
 " Yes," returned Balser, " but think of the 
 deer, rabbits, quail, and the other poor wild 
 creatures. How the poor things will suffer 
 and die by the hundreds. I am sorry for all 
 but the wolf. Many a tragedy will take 
 place under the bare sweetbrier bush before 
 morning, and in the spring, the bush will 
 bloom as sweetly as if it had never seen the 
 tragedy at all. May the Lord have pity on 
 any poor human being who is out without 
 shelter this night."
 
 Wyandotte
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 65 
 
 Balser was right. We had hardly carried 
 in our wood for the night, when the rain 
 began in a cold, freezing drizzle. Soon the 
 wind rose in moaning waves, and dashed the 
 rain upon our clapboard roof until it seemed 
 to us that the lost souls of a past eternity were 
 crying for comfort and help. 
 
 " Oh, what a night ! " said Balser, holding 
 his hands to the fire. " Rain in winter is as 
 bad as fever in August. The wind will con- 
 tinue to rise, and then the rain will change to 
 sleet and snow ; but, as you say, we will be 
 warm and asleep, and by morning the woods 
 will look like a forest of crystal." 
 
 We ate our supper and sat before the fire 
 later than usual, dreading to leave it, for our 
 cabin was a much better protection against 
 cold than against the wind. When we were 
 ready for bed that night, we did not bank the 
 coals, but rolled in a large hickory log, in- 
 tending to replenish the fire during the 
 night. We crept into our sleeping-bags, but 
 did not go to sleep quickly. Soon the wind 
 rose to a gale and we heard the sleet beating 
 down on the roof. I could not resist looking 
 out upon the storm, and I was rewarded by a 
 view of the worst night I ever beheld. I was
 
 66 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 glad enough to get back to my warm sleeping- 
 bag, and Balser grumbled drowsily : 
 
 " I hope you're satisfied now, Tom Andy 
 Bill, and will go to sleep. Caesar ! how the 
 wind does howl and the sleet beat down ! " 
 
 We lay for a little time, shivering at the 
 mere thought of conditions outside, but pres- 
 ently went to sleep and there was no storm 
 for us. 
 
 We had no clock and could not tell the 
 hour, but it must have been near midnight 
 when I was awakened. I thought I heard a 
 knock on the door. I started up and threw 
 the bearskin hood back from my ears. All 
 was silent, and I concluded that I had been 
 dreaming. I was about to cover my head 
 and go to sleep again when I distinctly 
 heard another knock on the door, as if some 
 one were pounding the boards with a club. 
 I stretched out my hand and wakened 
 Balser. 
 
 " Some one is knocking at the door," I 
 whispered. He at once came out of his bag 
 and took down his gun. I quickly followed 
 his example, and waited for the knock to be 
 repeated. Presently it came again. 
 
 " Who's there ? " asked Balser.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 67 
 
 " Let dead man in," came in moaning 
 tones through the door. 
 
 The form of the request seemed so thor- 
 oughly in keeping with the night that we 
 thought a ghost was demanding admittance. 
 We were not afraid of bears and wolves, but 
 no man lives who is not afraid of a ghost, 
 even though he knows that no such thing 
 exists. There is a point in every man's na- 
 ture when reason cannot overtake the super- 
 stitions that were blood of his blood and 
 bone of his bone when his ancestors were 
 savages. 
 
 Balser and I were frightened; but when 
 the answer came, I opened the door cau- 
 tiously, while Balser stood with his gun at 
 full cock, ready to kill the ghost should one 
 attack us. In place of a ghost we found a 
 poor, old, half-frozen Indian. He almost fell 
 into our cabin. I caught him as he tottered 
 and led him to the fire. His blanket was 
 like a cloak of ice, his moccasins were hard 
 as wooden shoes, his long, tangled hair was a 
 mass of icicles, and the poor old fellow was 
 almost dead. 
 
 We asked no questions, but proceeded to 
 divest him of his frozen blanket and to make
 
 68 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 him comfortable. We had several extra 
 bearskins that were beautifully tanned and 
 very soft and warm. We wrapped these 
 about the Indian and placed him before the 
 fire. He was almost unconscious, but when 
 the frost was thawed out of him, conscious- 
 ness returned, and he moaned out five words, 
 " No eat since two days." 
 
 A few sweet potatoes and a piece of corn 
 pone were left from supper. Balser brought 
 these from the shelf and placed them before 
 the Indian. He fell upon them like a 
 famished wolf, but Balser allowed him to eat 
 only a small portion. I took a dressed quail 
 from a shelf and was about to hang it over the 
 fire to broil, but the Indian snatched it from 
 my hand and ate it raw, bones and all, before 
 I had time to recover from my astonishment. 
 
 We built up the fire, and the Indian 
 stretched himself out in front of it. He lay 
 on the floor moaning, but soon after we had 
 covered him with bearskins, he seemed to 
 sleep, and we crept into our bags, though for 
 a long time there was no sleep in our eyes. 
 Dogs hate Indians, and Tige and Prince 
 growled viciously at first. We silenced them 
 with a switch, and before long they tolerated
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 69 
 
 the situation, though they were not at all 
 satisfied with it. 
 
 Toward morning Balser and I slept, but 
 we were soon awakened by the Indian, who 
 was talking loudly in a strange incoherent 
 mixture of Indian and English. We hur- 
 riedly got out of our sleeping-bags, and 
 found our guest trying to rise to his feet. 
 The poor fellow groaned and placed his 
 hand on his breast as if in great pain. His 
 hands, that had been so cold earlier in the 
 night, were now burning hot, and we soon 
 discovered that he was very ill with a fever. 
 We induced him to lie down again, and tried 
 to cover him with a soft bearskin, but he 
 angrily tossed it off. A sick Indian on our 
 hands was no trifling matter, though we were 
 not sorry we had taken him in. We were 
 glad. Soon we were very glad. I hold to 
 the belief that everything of good a man does 
 in this world returns to him in some form, 
 and that every moment of suffering one un- 
 necessarily brings upon another will, soon or 
 late, fall back upon his own head. 
 
 All that day and the next night, the Indian 
 tossed in a raging fever. Much of the time 
 he talked in his delirium, and much that he
 
 70 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 said was spoken in English. The evening 
 after he arrived he was lying on a soft bed 
 of hay that Balser had made for him in a 
 corner of the cabin. We had finished supper 
 and were cracking nuts for dessert. The 
 weather had not improved and the blizzard 
 was still raging, but we had piled on great 
 armfuls of wood and the cabin was cosey, for 
 the fire was doing its full and glorious duty. 
 The Indian lay unconscious of blizzard or fire, 
 muttering, talking, and silent by turns. 
 
 " What's your name ? " asked Balser, ad- 
 dressing the Indian. 
 
 Balser spoke in jest and did not expect an 
 answer, but to our surprise one came. 
 
 " Wyandotte," said the Indian, speaking as 
 one who talks in his sleep. 
 
 " Where are you from ? " asked Balser, 
 pleased with the success of his first question. 
 
 Again came the word, "Wyandotte." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " Wyandotte," answered the Indian. 
 
 " Why are you going there ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " To get the gold, gold, gold." 
 
 At the time we attached no importance 
 to his words, but Balser continued his cate- 
 chism.
 
 "He angrily tossed off the bearskin"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 71 
 
 " What gold ? " he asked. 
 
 The Indian made no reply. After a long 
 pause, Balser laughingly asked : 
 
 Where is the gold ? " 
 
 " In the home of Wyandotte Wyolyo," an- 
 swered the Indian. Then he grew excited and 
 spoke rapidly, but all that he said was uttered 
 in the Indian language, which we did not 
 understand sufficiently to catch his meaning, 
 though we could partially understand an 
 Indian when he spoke slowly. 
 
 The Indian was very sick for five days, 
 and we nursed him carefully. At the end 
 of that time the fever left him and he quickly 
 recovered, but he was very weak, and we 
 asked him to remain in our cabin until he 
 was strong. I confess that our invitation 
 was not given out of pure sympathy. We 
 hoped to be able to make him talk of the 
 treasure, but we knew that we would have 
 to go about it cautiously, for an Indian is by 
 nature extremely wary and very suspicious. 
 
 We, of course, had little faith in the 
 theory that the gold of which Wyandotte 
 had spoken was anything more than a golden 
 dream, but his words had put the dream into 
 our heads, and while we did not expect to
 
 72 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 gain anything from Wyandotte, it would 
 cost us nothing to keep him, and there 
 might be more truth in the words uttered 
 in his delirium than we supposed. There- 
 fore we were very kind to Wyandotte, partly 
 because we were sorry for him and liked the 
 old fellow, but chiefly because the gold bug 
 had got into our bonnets, and we hoped that 
 the dream might, by some wonderful stroke 
 of fortune, become a glorious reality. 
 
 Two weeks after the Indian had come to 
 our cabin, a deputy sheriff of the county 
 rode up to our door. Balser and I were 
 stretching pelts outside the cabin, and 
 Wyandotte was lying inside before the fire. 
 We were standing near the door, which was 
 open, and the Indian heard all that was 
 said. 
 
 " Hello, boys," said the deputy sheriff. 
 " Did you hear about Raster's barn burn- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Yes, we heard about it," I answered. I 
 knew the sheriff was hunting the Indian 
 who was supposed to have burned the barn, 
 and I knew he would take Wyandotte if he 
 saw him, so I stepped to the door and partly 
 closed it
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 73 
 
 " An Indian burned it," said the deputy 
 sheriff. " I heard there was one up this 
 way. Have you seen a redskin prowling 
 about here ? " 
 
 Balser, who was always quick with an 
 answer, said : 
 
 " No, we haven't seen an Indian prowling 
 about here." 
 
 You notice he did not say he had not seen 
 an Indian. He said he had not seen one 
 prowling about, and he told the truth, for 
 the Indian had not been out of the cabin. 
 We wanted to save Wyandotte, because we 
 did not believe he had burned Raster's barn; 
 but we also wanted to win his gratitude, for 
 the magic word " gold " was ringing in our 
 ears, and we hoped to coax the secret from 
 him if he had one. 
 
 The deputy rode away and we went into 
 the cabin. 
 
 " Did you hear what the deputy sheriff 
 said ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " I hear. He want me. I no burn barn," 
 answered Wyandotte. 
 
 " I don't believe you burned the barn," I 
 said ; " and if I can save you from the clutches 
 of these fellows, I mean to do it."
 
 74 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 A long pause ensued, and Wyandotte 
 said: 
 
 " Indian remember, too. What you call ? " 
 He meant to say, " What is your name ? " 
 
 " My name is Tom Andy Bill Addison," I 
 answered, " and this boy's name is Balser 
 Brent" 
 
 " Tomandybilladdison," repeated the Ind- 
 ian, going over the name many times and 
 pronouncing it as one word. He remained 
 silent for a long time, as if he were thinking, 
 and then spoke slowly, hesitatingly : " I re- 
 member, too ; remember long time. Indian's 
 memory for good comes again and again like 
 the rains in the spring, and his memory for 
 bad comes like the lightning, not often, but 
 sure to kill. Tomandybilladdison and Balser- 
 brent been good to Indian. Indian sure to 
 remember. Maybe some long day he pay 
 back again in gold, maybe." 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " Maybe Wyandotte; maybe some other 
 name ; not know, only maybe." 
 
 " Where is Wyandotte ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " Here," replied the Indian, pointing to the 
 spot on which he stood. 
 
 " But where is the place that you call the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 75 
 
 home of Wyandotte Wyolyo ? You spoke of 
 it the other night when you were sick," said 
 Balser. 
 
 " Oh, that sick talk. Sick Indian got no 
 sense." 
 
 We did not agree with him, but we pushed 
 the matter no further, knowing that our 
 questions would put him on his guard.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A BEAR FIGHT IN A SNOWDRIFT 
 
 A day or two after the conversation with 
 Wyandotte, Balser and I had our fight with 
 the three bears, and this was how it came 
 about. 
 
 We rose early one morning, and I went 
 out to feed and water Solomon. When I 
 took him to the creek where we had cut a 
 hole in the ice for him to drink, I noticed 
 bear tracks in the snow on the bank near the 
 water hole, from which a bear evidently had 
 been drinking. When I had taken Solomon 
 back to the stable, I went to the cabin and 
 asked Wyandotte to go with me to the water 
 hole and give me his opinion about the age 
 of the bear tracks, although I was sure they 
 had not been there the night before. The 
 Indian went with me, and after closely examin- 
 ing the tracks, he said : 
 
 " Ugh ! Big bear ! Heap big bear ! 
 Wounded lame in one leg hind leg." 
 
 76
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 77 
 
 How the Indian obtained all his informa- 
 tion from the half-blurred tracks, I don't 
 know, but he seemed sure of what he said, 
 and I unhesitatingly believed him. If we 
 could kill this bear, it would be a stroke of 
 great good luck for us. Its skin would be 
 worth ten shillings and its meat would not 
 only furnish us food for the dogs, but would 
 surely bring us five dollars at the town of 
 Blue River. 
 
 We had seen but one bear since the cold 
 weather began. These curious animals eat 
 ravenously in the summer and fall, and grow 
 fat. When the very cold weather comes on, 
 they seem to be aware of its approach, so they 
 seek a cave or a hollow tree and go to sleep 
 until pleasant weather returns. Frequently, 
 when they cannot find a cave or a hollow 
 tree, they go to sleep under a cliff where the 
 snow is apt to drift, and there they hibernate 
 for a time beneath the snow. 
 
 In very cold countries, bears sometimes 
 sleep for four months; but our winters are 
 comparatively short, and two weeks is a long 
 hibernating period in this climate. While 
 this sleep lasts the bear lives on its fat, accu- 
 mulated during the feeding season. We had
 
 78 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 not expected to find a bear prowling about, 
 and the tracks were a most welcome surprise. 
 This one probably had been disturbed in its 
 dreams. 
 
 We lost no time in eating breakfast, you 
 may be sure ; and when we had finished, we 
 looked carefully to our guns, bullets, and 
 powder-horns, gave our knives a keen edge 
 on the whetstone, and started on the trail of 
 the bear. Tige and Prince were delighted 
 and danced about us in great glee. They 
 seemed to know that something besides 
 mink and muskrat was in the wind. When 
 we took up the trail, Wyandotte wanted to 
 go with us; but he was not strong, and we 
 told him to stay at home to watch the cabin 
 and stretch a lot of pelts that we had left 
 uncared for over night. 
 
 We easily followed the tracks over a route 
 that wound in all directions through the 
 woods, but we did not so easily overtake the 
 bear. By noon we were hungry and pretty 
 tired, for it is hard work walking through 
 snow over which a thin crust of ice has been 
 frozen. We had taken our dinner with us, 
 and shortly after noon we rested and ate. 
 Of course Tige and Prince got nothing to
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 79 
 
 eat, although they danced about us and 
 begged eagerly for just one little mouthful. 
 They gave us to understand distinctly that 
 they were very hungry, and with water 
 streaming from their mouths, they watched 
 every bite we took. It was cruel not to feed 
 them, for we had given them no breakfast; 
 but if we satisfied their hunger, they would 
 not only become lazy, but their sense of smell 
 would become less keen and they would be 
 of no use to us in spooring. 
 
 If we should find the bear or should give 
 up trying to find it, Tige and Prince would 
 get their suppers at once. We hoped to 
 feed them on bear meat, but if we failed in 
 that, we would kill a rabbit for them. 
 
 Frequently the dogs were tempted to chase 
 a rabbit and secure their own dinner, but 
 they knew if they even so much as barked 
 at a rabbit, they would receive a terrible 
 thrashing ; so the faithful friends went hungry 
 for our sake, and that was more than we 
 would have done for them. 
 
 Balser and I were very hungry, so we ate 
 all our dinner and saved nothing for the 
 poor dogs nor for ourselves later on. The 
 Indians have a saying, " The man who eats
 
 80 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 all he has at one meal may eat nothing at the 
 next." Balser and I were sorry that evening 
 that we had been so greedy at noon, for we 
 were very hungry before we had another 
 meal, as you shall hear. After dinner we 
 again took up the spoor, and the dogs, who 
 understood that their dinner depended upon 
 finding the bear, gave us a rapid lead. 
 
 This adventure happened early in Janu- 
 ary when the days were short, and Balser 
 and I were so intent on our pursuit that we 
 did not notice the sun until it was almost 
 down. We had lost the tracks an hour 
 earlier. 
 
 " We'd better be turning for home, Tom 
 Andy Bill," said Balser. " It will soon be 
 dark, and when the light gives out we can't 
 see our tracks home." 
 
 " Right you are," I answered, a feeling of 
 uneasiness suddenly coming over me. " I'm 
 blest if I know where we are." 
 
 "Neither do I," answered Balser; "but if 
 we start at once, we can follow our tracks 
 until dark, and then we'll have to make the 
 rest of our way home as best we can." 
 
 While we stood debating the situation, we 
 heard Tige and Prince barking furiously
 
 "WK HAD DISTURBED THUS SLEEP, AND THEY COULD NOT GET 
 THEIR EYES OPEN "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 81 
 
 quite a distance ahead of us. The dogs had 
 been running rapidly, and we could not see 
 them ; but we knew they were just beyond a 
 small hill that stood three hundred yards 
 ahead of us, a short distance to the right. 
 
 The barking of the dogs drove all thoughts 
 of home-going out of our heads, and we hur- 
 ried forward, hoping that the bear was at 
 bay. After we had turned the bend around 
 the base of the hill we did not go over it 
 we saw Tige and Prince barking furiously 
 at nothing. When we came up to them, 
 they were standing at the foot of the hill 
 barking toward it, but we could not see even 
 a rabbit track. In front of the dogs there 
 was apparently nothing but a smooth, snow- 
 covered hillside, ten or twelve feet high. 
 
 We stood watching the dogs, and soon 
 Balser said, " Tige, you're a fool ; " but Tige 
 seemed to answer back, " I'm not a fool." 
 
 The dogs continued to bark furiously. 
 Their hair rose angrily and they faced the 
 snow-covered hillside so persistently, that we 
 thought surely they had gone crazy from 
 hunger. But it often happens that when we 
 don't understand other men and dogs 
 we call them crazy. Everything great that
 
 82 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 has been accomplished has been done by 
 crazy men, if the ignorant people who have 
 lived about them are to be believed. Men 
 said Galileo was crazy because he declared 
 the earth was round and revolved about the 
 sun. All the world thought Columbus was 
 crazy when he insisted that he could sail west- 
 ward and reach the land of the East. Even 
 the English Parliament thought Stephenson 
 was crazy when he said that the steam loco- 
 motive and the railroads could accomplish all 
 he claimed. Morse was crazy, many persons 
 said, when he announced that he could send 
 a message a thousand miles in a few seconds. 
 The truth is, a fool thinks every man but 
 himself insane. Balser and I were fools to 
 think that our dogs were crazy. We were so 
 vain, we could not believe that they knew 
 better than we did what they were about. I 
 soon grew disgusted watching the apparently 
 foolish dogs barking at the white hillside, 
 and said : 
 
 " Come, Balser, let us start home. These 
 fool dogs will keep us here for a week if we 
 listen to them. The sun will be down in 
 half an hour, and in an hour it will be dark. 
 I'm cold and hungry and I'm going home."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 83 
 
 " All right, I'm with you," answered Balser; 
 so we fastened the gun straps to our guns, 
 slung them over our shoulders, and started 
 home. 
 
 When the dogs saw us going, they loudly 
 protested. They said as plainly as if they 
 were speaking English, " Don't go, you fools, 
 don't go." Of course it was very insolent in 
 our dogs to call us fools, but after all they 
 were right. We did not heed them and con- 
 tinued to retrace our steps. The dogs refused 
 to follow us, and after we had gone a little 
 way, Balser whistled for them. They were 
 well-trained animals and always responded 
 instantly to their master's call ; but on this 
 occasion they paid no attention to it, and we 
 could hear their voices coming faintly to us 
 from the other side of the little hill, which was 
 now quite a distance behind us. Balser whis- 
 tled again and again. Still the dogs barked, 
 but did not come in response to the call. 
 
 " If I have to go back for those crazy dogs, 
 I'll take a switch and lay it on till they'll 
 remember," said Balser. He waited for a 
 little time and said : " Hold my gun, Tom 
 Andy Bill. I'll cut a switch and teach those 
 fellows a lesson of obedience."
 
 84 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Balser broke a switch from a bush and 
 started back to fetch the dogs. After he left 
 me I began to wonder if by any chance we 
 could be wrong and the dogs right. I had 
 the guns, so I hurriedly followed Balser, and 
 we turned the base of the hill together. 
 
 The dogs were still barking at the snow- 
 covered hillside. Nothing but the smooth 
 snow was visible. Balser, with his switch 
 lifted ready to strike, was almost up to the 
 dogs, when Tige I believe he was the 
 smartest dog that ever lived began to dig 
 furiously into the snow. Then Prince, who 
 was also a sensible dog, though always play- 
 ing u second fiddle " to Tige, began to make 
 the snow fly. 
 
 The dogs howled and whined in their 
 efforts to tell us something that was on their 
 minds, but we did not have sense enough to 
 know what they were saying. We sometimes 
 get angry at dumb brutes because they do 
 not understand what we say to them, but we 
 don't appreciate our own dumbness in failing 
 to understand what they say to us. They 
 understand us much better than we under- 
 stand them, and none but a cruel man will 
 beat them because of an ignorance which is
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 85 
 
 less than his own. But the dogs said so 
 much and said it so plainly that we began to 
 understand them. 
 
 " By Jove, Tom Andy Bill, this is not a 
 hillside. It's a great snowdrift," said Balser. 
 " The snow must be five or six feet deep in 
 there." 
 
 He threw away his switch, and we watched 
 the dogs burrowing into the drift. They 
 dug rapidly. Soon their heads disappeared 
 in the tunnel they were making, then their 
 bodies, and by and by nothing was visible 
 but the tips of their tails. They understood 
 the art of tunnel-making. They broke the 
 snow with their front feet and threw it back ; 
 then they stood on their front feet and 
 with their hind feet sent the snow flying 
 out through the mouth of the tunnel behind 
 them. 
 
 Balser and I supposed that the dogs would 
 find a frozen covey of quails, or perhaps a fox ; 
 but we let them have their own way, since 
 they seemed determined on it, and watched 
 the process of tunnel-building with ever in- 
 creasing interest. 
 
 As the dogs burrowed into the drift they 
 continued barking, and their voices came to
 
 86 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 us in muffled howls and whines from be- 
 neath the snow. While we were watching 
 the white hillside, it suddenly rose in a little 
 mountain of snow, as if by a volcanic up- 
 heaval. I confess that I was frightened to 
 see the apparently solid earth acting in such 
 an unusual manner. 
 
 Give me my gun, quick, quick ! " cried 
 Balser. " Don't you know what it is ? " 
 
 I handed him his gun, still watching the 
 heaving hillside with a curiosity that bor- 
 dered on timidity. 
 
 "There's a bear under the snow," cried 
 Balser, "and he'll kill the dogs if we don't 
 help them. They can't fight under there 
 in such close quarters; and if there's a bear 
 there, it will claw them to pieces in no time." 
 
 Balser bravely waded into the snowdrift 
 toward the upheaval, and I followed close by 
 his side. Suddenly my foot touched some- 
 thing soft. Immediately another upheaval 
 took place, and I was a part of it. I felt 
 myself lifted into the air and then I felt my- 
 self go down backward, head first into the 
 snow. As I fell I saw Balser taking part in 
 another upheaval not six feet from me. I 
 shall never forget the comical expression
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 87 
 
 of surprise on his face, and although I was 
 frightened almost out of my wits, I could 
 not help laughing as I went under the snow. 
 I scrambled out pretty quickly, and as I was 
 brushing the snow from my face, Balser also 
 came up from the white depths. We had 
 lost our hats, and our guns were somewhere 
 at the bottom of the snow. 
 
 " By George," said Balser, sputtering and 
 blowing and rubbing the snow from his face, 
 " I believe there's a nest of bears in there ! 
 Let's get our guns." 
 
 We waded back after our guns, and while I 
 was feeling about under the snow for mine, 
 a bear that seemed to be about two sizes 
 larger than a mule rose right out of the 
 drift not two feet in front of me, and shook 
 himself. I left my gun where it was. You 
 see I didn't want it as badly as I had thought 
 I did. 
 
 The snowdrift where I had fallen was 
 breast deep, and I could not make a rapid 
 retreat, though I tried as hard as I ever tried 
 in my life. I was very busy, but I had time 
 to glance toward Balser, and saw, standing 
 in front of him, another monster bear that 
 had just risen from the snow. At the same
 
 88 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 instant there was an upheaval of snow be- 
 tween us, and a third bear showed himself, 
 apparently ready for fight. 
 
 This all happened in a few seconds. I 
 tried to go backward, but stepped on one 
 of the dogs and fell. As I went under the 
 snow, my bear came down on top of me, 
 and I thought my day had come. The 
 dogs were under the snow and, of course, 
 could help neither me nor themselves. I, 
 too, was completely under the snow, but 
 worse still I was under the bear, and it 
 seemed to weigh a ton. I expected every 
 instant to feel its great horny claws in my 
 flesh, or to have my bones crushed between 
 its fearful jaws, but to my surprise nothing 
 of the kind happened. I could not move, 
 and I concluded the bear was trying to 
 smother me to death. 
 
 After a long time it seemed long to me, 
 but it could not have been many seconds 
 I heard one of the dogs growling near my 
 head. Then I felt the bear trying to rise. I 
 crawled from under him as quickly as possible 
 and made the effort of my life to get away. 
 I succeeded, and when I gained my feet, there 
 stood two of the bears rubbing their eyes, but
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 89 
 
 there was no Balser, no dogs, and no third 
 bear. I concluded that Balser and the third 
 bear were engaged in a death struggle under 
 the snow, so I hurried to the spot where Bal- 
 ser had disappeared. 
 
 Just as I started, Balser rose from the 
 snow and his bear quickly rose beside him. 
 Balser held his long knife in his hand and 
 was covered with blood. There had been a 
 death struggle under the snow, sure enough. 
 I thought Balser was killed. I helped him 
 out of the drift and anxiously inquired if he 
 was hurt. 
 
 " I don't know," he answered, " but the 
 bear is hurt. Look out for him." 
 
 Hardly were the words out of his mouth 
 when the wounded bear came towards us. 
 Balser, knife in hand, looked like the incarna- 
 tion of rage. Instead of running from the 
 bear he ran toward it, and the fight that had 
 begun under the drift was finished above the 
 snow. Balser struck the bear with his long 
 knife just back of the shoulder ; then he 
 sprang behind the brute and struck it again 
 and again. The dogs, having extricated 
 themselves, came to his aid, and I then en- 
 tered the combat. Four against one did not
 
 90 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 seem fair, especially as the bear was hardly 
 awake, but " needs must when Old Nick 
 drives," and so we killed the bear. 
 
 The other two bears were still standing up- 
 right in the snowdrift, rubbing their sleepy 
 eyes. Poor brutes ! We had disturbed- -their 
 rest, and they could not. get their eyes open. 
 
 Balser, who was the bravest boy lever knew, 
 hurried back into the drift, dived beneath the 
 snow, got his gun right from under one of 
 the bears, and came quickly back to me. 
 
 I, ashamed to be behind Balser in bravery, 
 essayed the same daring feat ; but when I got 
 my gun and rose to my feet, the bear evinced 
 a sudden, unexpected affection for me, and 
 in less time than I can tell it, had me in its 
 great hairy arms. It gave me one mighty 
 hug, and I thought another squeeze like that 
 would finish Tom Andy Bill. But before the 
 other hug came, I heard the report of a gun 
 close behind me. I also heard a oullet strike, 
 the bear's head within five inches of my nose. 
 A little splash of blood struck me-in the face. 
 I felt the bear's hold relax, and the brute and 
 T * nt under the snow together for tj\e second 
 
 ust have lost consciousness v ffer a* minute
 
 K'i,MKKI> I. IKK THE INCARNATION OF KA(;K ''
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 91 
 
 or two, for the next thing I remember was 
 Balser dragging me from under the dead bear. 
 When he helped me out of the drift, we were 
 a pair of beauties. Balser, covered with blood, 
 looked like a demon. My face was scratched 
 and cut in twenty places, and every bone and 
 muscle in my body ached. 
 
 I looked at Balser and he looked at me, 
 and though neither of us knew how badly we 
 were hurt, we could not help laughing, though, 
 to tell you the truth, we wanted to cry. 
 
 " There goes the other bear ! " I cried, 
 pointing to the retreating form of the third 
 sleeper. 
 
 " I don'tcare," answered Balser; " I wouldn't 
 go after him if he had a hundred hides. 
 I know when I have enough. Let's in- 
 voice." 
 
 We sat down in the snow and examined 
 our wounds as well as we could. 
 
 " I believe that every rib is broken," said I. 
 
 " I wonder if all this blood is mine," mused 
 Balser. 
 
 Cold as it was," we took off his clothing, 
 but we found no wounds save a few scratches 
 on his face and neck; so we concluded that 
 the gore had been contributed by the bear.
 
 92 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Balser examined my ribs and pronounced 
 them all whole, though I insisted that every 
 one of them was broken from my spine. 
 
 u We'll get stiff if we sit here," said 
 Balser. " Let us start home." 
 
 " We had better cover the bears with snow 
 to protect the carcasses from the wolves and 
 foxes," I suggested. 
 
 "You may cover them if you wish," he 
 answered, starting away. " I wouldn't stay 
 to cover a chest of gold. I'd even leave 
 Wyandotte's treasure. I want to get home." 
 
 We did, however, remain long enough to 
 cut a good piece of bear meat for the dogs ; 
 and when our faithful friends had swallowed 
 it, we covered the bears with snow and 
 started for home. Darkness soon fell, and 
 in less than a half-hour we were lost in the 
 deep forest. 
 
 " I am sleepy," said Uncle Tom Andy Bill, 
 " and I am going to bed." A chorus of 
 protests went up from the audience. 
 
 " Tell us if you got home," said one. 
 
 " Oh, please don't stop while you're lost 
 in the woods," said another. 
 
 But Uncle Tom Andy Bill said: "I'll tell
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 93 
 
 you all about it to-morrow evening, if I don't 
 go to church." 
 
 Mab climbed to his knees, put her arms 
 about his neck, and whispered excitedly : 
 
 " Please tell me, Uncle Tom Andy Bill, if 
 you got home alive. If you died in the 
 woods that night, I'll die too." 
 
 He kissed her curls and said : 
 
 " Of course I didn't die, sweetheart. 
 Don't you see I'm here ? But I'm tired and 
 don't want to talk any more." 
 
 So Mab climbed down from his knees and 
 led him by the finger off to slumber land.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 LOST IN THE WOODS 
 
 Next evening there was an eager audience 
 awaiting Tom Andy Bill. He lighted his 
 pipe, and Mab drew her chair close beside 
 him, to be within easy reach of the big, help- 
 ing finger at the " scary " places. 
 
 " Let's pretend that maybe you and Balser 
 didn't get home," said Mab, snuggling up to 
 her friend ; but after a pause she continued : 
 " No, we'll not pretend that you didn't get 
 home ; that makes me want to cry. We'll 
 pretend that we don't know whether Balser 
 got home or not. Then it will be more 
 scary, and make us feel nice and shivery." 
 
 "All right," answered Tom Andy Bill; 
 " maybe Balser didn't get home. Perhaps 
 there will be no pretending." 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Tom! No, no! I can't 
 stand that either! Please tell me that 
 Balser did get home," pleaded Mab, a flood 
 of tears almost ready to spring from her eyes. 
 
 94
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 95 
 
 " Yes, yes, sweetheart," said Tom Andy 
 Bill, caressingly ; " we both got home, but we 
 had an awful night of it" 
 
 " Oh, not too awful. Please don't make it 
 too awful, Uncle Tom, or I'll just shiver 
 just shiver to death." 
 
 Every one laughed except Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill. He never laughed when Mab 
 was serious. 
 
 "I'll have to tell you about it as it 
 happened," he said. " I don't make up the 
 stories couldn't do it to save my life." 
 
 " Oh, well, you are here, anyway. Let me 
 hold your hand. Then when we come to 
 the very bad places, I'll always know you 
 are safe." 
 
 The love in Mab's little heart was dearer 
 to Uncle Tom Andy Bill than the blood in 
 his own. The baby girl reached up, grasped 
 one of the big fingers, and said : 
 
 " All right. Now go ahead." And 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill began. 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 I tell you, there are only two creatures in 
 the world that it does not pay to befriend 
 a snake and a fool. Even a snake may some-
 
 96 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 times be grateful, but a fool, never. Balser 
 and I befriended the Indian, and we had our 
 reward sooner than we expected. I never 
 saw an Indian that was entirely a fool ; that 
 distinction is left for the white man. 
 
 When Balser and I discovered that we 
 were lost, we stopped. I looked about in 
 the heavens, and thought I saw the North 
 Star. I knew our general direction in pursu- 
 ing the bear had been northeast, therefore 
 we would take a southwesterly course in 
 returning. We were not at all sure of our 
 route, so we walked slowly; but soon we 
 came to the banks of a stream that we 
 thought was Blue River, and we at once 
 knew we were going wrong. 
 
 " If we go down the river," said Balser, 
 " we ought to reach Raster's house in an 
 hour or two at least, and we can get shelter. 
 I don't want to stay out all night with my 
 scratches and wounds." 
 
 " All right," said I, and we started, as we 
 thought, down the stream towards Raster's. 
 
 The dogs, too, were lost, and clung tim- 
 idly to our heels. Perhaps if we had been 
 as wise as they, we should have been able to 
 find our way home. The snow soon began
 
 The i>'h,>, i< M>, uiivi. ioan "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 97 
 
 to fall about us like a deluge of feathers, and 
 after we had been walking rapidly for an 
 hour, Balser said : 
 
 " I surely know the river five miles above 
 Raster's, and it doesn't look familiar to me 
 here. I do believe we have been going up- 
 stream instead of down." 
 
 I didn't know which direction we had 
 taken. I was so confused that I believe I 
 should not have known my own house if I 
 had been standing on the doorstep. 
 
 " Take me home, Tige," said I, stooping 
 and patting the dog's head, " and never let 
 me leave it again." 
 
 Tige struck my leg with his tail to let me 
 know he was wagging it, and the poor dog 
 seemed to say : " Don't be frightened, Tom 
 Andy Bill. We'll get home by and by." 
 
 We stood in utter confusion for a while, 
 and Balser, pointing westward as we sup- 
 posed from the river, said : 
 
 " I believe that direction is west. We are 
 on the west side of some stream, for we came 
 eastward and we did not cross a river or a 
 creek." 
 
 The reasoning seemed good, and we, feel- 
 ing that we had our bearings once more,
 
 9 8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 started as we supposed in a southwesterly 
 direction for home. Soon after we started 
 we again entered the deep forest and were 
 as badly lost as ever. We, however, kept on 
 walking to keep our blood circulating, for 
 while the weather was not very cold, it was 
 raw, and what little wind there was seemed 
 to penetrate to our very bones. Although 
 we walked rapidly, we could not keep warm. 
 
 We were moving along aimlessly and hope- 
 lessly through a very dark portion of the for- 
 est when a large black animal crossed my 
 path not one foot in front of me, and took with 
 it in its teeth a piece of my half-rotten buck- 
 skin trousers. It was a wolf, and you may be 
 sure I sprang back pretty badly frightened. 
 
 " He will go and tell his friends," said Bal- 
 ser, " and they will come and take revenge on 
 us for Solomon's powder keg." 
 
 Hardly had he spoken when we heard 
 the barking howl of wolves coming from the 
 direction the wolf had taken. Wolves are 
 cowardly beasts, and we had no fear of two 
 or three, but a hungry pack is the greatest 
 danger man or beast can encounter. Espe- 
 cially is the danger great at night. Judging 
 by the noise the wolves made, we would have
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 99 
 
 been justified in believing that a great pack 
 was on our scent ; but we also knew that two 
 or three wolves could exert themselves to 
 make as much noise as twenty. That is a 
 shrewd trick to which they sometimes resort 
 for the purpose of terrifying their prey and 
 making it easier to capture. 
 
 Balser and I, with the dogs close at our 
 heels, hurried forward as fast as we could 
 travel, though our haste would not help us 
 against the wolves. If the pack were a 
 large one, they would soon overtake us. If 
 the raw, cold night air chilled our blood, the 
 fear of the wolves chilled our very bones and 
 gave speed to our heels. 
 
 Thus we were hurrying along, looking con- 
 stantly to the right and to the left and back 
 of us, when suddenly Balser stumbled over 
 an obstruction in his path and fell forward 
 on his face. We were both frightened, but 
 when he rose to his feet, he stooped and 
 thrust his hand under the snow to discover, 
 if possible, the cause of his fall. 
 
 44 By George, it's a bear ! " he cried, 
 springing back. I, too, sprang back. We 
 had no fight left in us. We had had more 
 than enough fighting for one day.
 
 ioo UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 As we retreated, we expected the bear 
 to arise up and make its presence known, 
 but it did not. I was watching the spot 
 closely and was not paying much attention 
 to where I was going, so I moved backward 
 against an obstruction of some sort, and fell 
 over it. When I examined my stumbling- 
 block, I found that it was another bear. 
 
 " A bear ! Another bear ! " I cried, 
 springing to my feet and joining Balser in a 
 general stampede for safety. 
 
 " Lord, did you ever hear of so many 
 bears ? " wailed Balser. " The woods fairly 
 swarm with them. Five in one day; and 
 wolves! Hear them, Tom Andy Bill, hear 
 them! I believe I'm going crazy fright- 
 ened out of my wits ! " 
 
 After a minute or two of trembling silence 
 I said: 
 
 " I'll bet those are logs that we stumbled 
 over." 
 
 As the supposed bears did not move, we 
 laughed nervously and went cautiously back 
 to them. I put my hand on the one Balser 
 had fallen over, but I sprang away very 
 quickly, crying, " It's a bear, sure enough ! " 
 Then I went to the one I had stumbled over.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 101 
 
 I sprang away from it, too, with the exclama- 
 tion, "A bear!" 
 
 I quickly joined Balser at a little distance, 
 and we waited somewhat anxiously for devel- 
 opments. Presently he said, laughing ner- 
 vously: 
 
 "Say, Tom Andy Bill, do you know 
 where we are ? Those bears are dead, and 
 this is where we had our fight in the snow- 
 drift." 
 
 " Don't say a word," said I, sitting down 
 on the bear nearest to me. " We are right 
 back to the place we started from. I think 
 the spot has a charm to hold us. Listen to 
 the wolves. I do believe we'll never get 
 away from here alive, Balser." 
 
 The howling wolf pack came nearer and 
 nearer, and our hearts sank lower and lower. 
 When the wolves seemed to be getting too 
 bold, we fired our guns and shouted to 
 frighten them off. We had discharged five 
 or six loads of powder when we heard, as if 
 in response to our volley, a rolling Indian 
 warwhoop. 
 
 "Great Jupiter! Indians!" cried Balser. 
 
 " I prefer Indians to wolves," said I; "let 
 us fire again."
 
 102 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I loaded my gun heavily and fired. A 
 rifle does not make a loud report, but we 
 heard an answering warwhoop in response 
 to my shot. We shouted at intervals of ten 
 or twelve seconds, and soon we saw an 
 Indian approaching. It was Wyandotte. 
 
 " Oh, Wyandotte," cried Balser, going to 
 meet him, "we are glad to see you. We 
 are lost." 
 
 " Indian know," answered Wyandotte. 
 " This way home. Hurry. Heap rain by 
 and by." ' 
 
 Wyandotte started home, and we gladly 
 followed. We tried to make the Indian 
 talk, and although his words were few, we 
 succeeded in learning that he suspected we 
 were lost when we did not return at night- 
 fall, and started out to find us and to lead 
 us home. How he was able to see our 
 tracks in the dark without a torch, I don't 
 understand; but he found us and took us 
 home straight as a crow would fly. 
 
 After two hours' hard walking we reached 
 the cabin near midnight. The snow had 
 turned to rain, but just as we got home the 
 wind shifted to the north and the rain turned 
 to sleet. Had not our silent friend found us,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 103 
 
 we certainly should have perished that night 
 in the woods. We had nursed Wyandotte 
 back to life, and he had repaid us in the 
 same coin, so the obligation, much to our 
 regret, was cancelled. 
 
 We were welcomed by a corn song from 
 Solomon. He was almost famished, and, 
 of course, got his hay and corn at once. 
 We, too, were hungry all the way down to 
 our toes, and our first task was to prepare 
 supper. We did not wait for potatoes to 
 bake, but made a great cake of corn pone, 
 broiled several quails and two rabbits, and 
 the three of us ate them all. I believe we 
 could have eaten a dozen rabbits. Wyan- 
 dotte ate a quail and prepared to go to sleep. 
 Before he turned in, he said : 
 
 " You help Indian. Indian pay back. 
 Indian go away to-night." 
 
 We asked him to remain and help us bring 
 home the bears we had killed. 
 
 " If you will stay," said Balser, " Tom Andy 
 Bill and I will take the bearskins and the 
 meat down to Blue River and sell them. 
 You shall have all we get for them, and we 
 will buy you a new pair of shoes and a new 
 blanket."
 
 104 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Wyandotte shook his head. He would 
 not stay. 
 
 " We'll get you a hatchet, too," said I. 
 
 No. Wyandotte must be going. 
 
 " We'll give you shoes, blanket, hatchet, 
 knife, and gun if you'll stay with us three 
 days," said Balser. 
 
 " Oh, cheap gun," said Wyandotte, con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 Balser and I each had two guns. I took 
 down one of mine; it was a good English 
 rifle. 
 
 " Is this gun cheap ? " I asked. 
 
 " Good gun," answered Wyandotte. 
 
 " We'll give it to you," I said. 
 
 " Powder ? Bullets ? " the Indian asked. 
 
 " Yes," answered Balser. 
 
 " How much powder ? " asked Wyandotte. 
 
 " A big horn full," I answered. 
 
 A big horn was the horn of an ox; a small 
 horn was that of a cow. 
 
 " How big bullets ? " asked the Indian, 
 meaning how many. 
 
 " Two hands, two feet ; two more hands, 
 two more feet," said Balser, meaning forty. 
 
 In dealing with Indians, calculations were 
 often made on the basis of the number of
 
 "'I I 's a HK.AK, StTUC ENOUGH !
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 105 
 
 fingers and toes possessed by a man. The 
 number belonging to the person making the 
 offer was usually recognized as the standard. 
 If he was so fortunate as to be short of a few 
 toes or fingers, the advantage in the trade was 
 with him. 
 
 " Let Indian see toes," said Wyandotte, 
 more from a habit of caution than because he 
 suspected us of a desire to cheat him. Balser 
 showed him five toes on each foot, and held 
 out his fingers for inspection. The Indian, 
 being satisfied, answered, " Stay three days." 
 
 Then he lay down on his bed of hay. 
 Balser and I crept into our sleeping-bags, and 
 being very tired, were soon in dreamland. 
 
 Next morning Solomon's corn song 
 awakened us from a sound sleep. We 
 did not want to get up, but having a big 
 day's work ahead of us, we turned out, fed 
 Solomon, and got our breakfast in a great 
 hurry. We made a hasty visit to our traps, 
 returned as quickly as possible, harnessed 
 Solomon to the sled, and started with Wyan- 
 dotte to fetch the dead bears. By noon we 
 had loaded them on the sled and, amid vigor- 
 ous protests from Solomon, started home. 
 By five o'clock that evening the bears were
 
 106 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 skinned, and the edible portion of the meat 
 was hanging safely in the treetops. On the 
 following day Balser and I took the meat and 
 the skins to the town of Blue River. We got 
 Wyandotte's blanket, knife, and hatchet, and 
 had five shillings left to pay us for three days' 
 hard work. 
 
 We slept at Balser's home that night, and 
 started next morning for the cabin loaded 
 with eggs, butter, a great can of sweet milk, 
 and enough mince pies to make twenty boys 
 sick for a month. 
 
 Solomon, with his accustomed good na- 
 ture, seemed glad to return to Brandywine, 
 and three hours after sun-up we were back in 
 our cabin. Balser's mother gave us a bottle 
 of whiskey with wild cherry bark. It was 
 considered a great medicine among the 
 settlers, and Mrs. Brent admonished us to 
 take a little whenever we got our feet wet or 
 became thoroughly chilled. I'll tell you 
 more about the whiskey in a moment. 
 
 When we reached the cabin we gave 
 Wyandotte his blanket, hatchet, knife, shoes, 
 and gun. By way of good measure we also 
 gave him three pairs of woollen socks, but 
 these he tossed back to us, saying,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 107 
 
 " Woman's gear." The other things he 
 accepted stoically, without comment, and 
 placed them on his bed next the wall. 
 
 After supper, Balser, having no thought 
 of Wyandotte, took the whiskey bottle from 
 his pocket and placed it on a shelf. I 
 noticed the Indian's eyes glisten for a 
 moment, but his face immediately became 
 expressionless, and I thought no more about 
 the glitter in his eyes. I knew that all Ind- 
 ians have a great love for intoxicants, but it 
 did not occur to me that Wyandotte would 
 want the whiskey until I happened to turn 
 my face from the fire and saw him taking 
 the bottle down from the shelf. 
 
 " Put that back ! " I said, rising and going 
 toward him. He held his hatchet in his hand 
 and lifted it threateningly above my head. 
 
 " Ugh ! " he grunted, " sit down ! " 
 
 I sat down. Balser arose to remonstrate 
 with our guest, for a drunken Indian usually 
 is a fiend incarnate ; but Wyandotte again 
 lifted his hatchet and Balser sat down. 
 
 The Indian drained the bottle without 
 taking it from his lips fortunately it was 
 not a large one and came around in front 
 of the fire, where he sat down upon the floor.
 
 108 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 In a few minutes Wyandotte the Silent, as 
 we often called him, began to chant in a low 
 minor key. The words of his song were 
 Indian, but frequently we caught the name 
 " Wyandotte." The magic word always 
 aroused our interest, for if the Indian had 
 spoken the truth during his delirium, the 
 gold was hidden at or in some place bearing 
 that name. 
 
 We longed to know where Wyandotte 
 was situated. We constantly discussed the 
 subject when alone, and I believe we thought 
 of nothing else. Therefore, when the Indian 
 began to chant, we listened attentively, and 
 soon Wyandotte the Silent became Wyan- 
 dotte the Talkative. Under the influence of 
 whiskey most Indians grow morose and sul- 
 len, but this one became cheerful and happy. 
 His good humor grew apace, and presently 
 I said: 
 
 " Tell us about Wyandotte." 
 
 I'll not attempt to give you the language 
 in which he spoke, but I'll try to give you 
 the story in my own way, perhaps with a 
 touch here and there of his figurative manner 
 of speech.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE STORY OF BLUE VIOLET 
 
 The Indian remained silent for a few 
 minutes, gazing into the fire, then began : 
 
 Wyandotte is the name of a small tribe of 
 good Indians that used to live far, far from 
 here, on the banks of a great river. They 
 are all gone now, and are scattered like the 
 leaves of autumn. Wyandotte Wyolyo is a 
 great Indian god who loved his people as 
 the eagle loves its young. Wyandotte is his 
 home. It is a great cave one moon, two 
 moon, three moon journey from here. 
 
 Great hills surround the cave, and wolves 
 whose numbers are as the pebbles of the 
 river guard its door. Two devils with fiery 
 breath stand inside the doorway to consume 
 any one unlawfully trying to enter; but if 
 one who has no good right to enter should 
 succeed in passing beyond the portals of the 
 cave, death would overtake him before he 
 
 109
 
 no UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 could return to the sunlight. There are 
 many rooms and passageways, and one who 
 does not know the key to the labyrinth of 
 the cave would be lost in the recesses of its 
 stony heart and would perish miserably. 
 Hanging from the roof of the cave and 
 springing from its floor are white devils, 
 some of them two, four, ten times bigger 
 than a man, and these devils laugh at those 
 who are lost in their midst and drive them 
 mad. 
 
 Many, many moons ago so many that 
 their number is like the trees of a great 
 forest, aye, like the leaves of the trees in 
 spring there lived not far from this mar- 
 vellous cave a tribe of Indians calling them- 
 selves Wyandottes. For many years they 
 did not know of the cave, for it was hidden 
 amidst bare and rocky hills, and they did not 
 climb those hills because their god, Wyan- 
 dotte Wyolyo, lived among them, and the 
 place of his home was sacred to them. 
 
 Long, long ago, one spring when the deer 
 were bringing forth their young, and the 
 leaves of the forest were bursting into bud, 
 a tribe of people whose faces bore the color 
 of the white, poor ground whereon maize
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL in 
 
 will not grow, came down the great river on 
 which the Wyandottes lived, built their 
 houses, and planted their crops on the rich 
 black ground near the river's bank. 
 
 Summers came and went, and the white- 
 faced tribe swarmed into the home of the 
 Wyandottes always with increasing numbers. 
 The new tribe stole from the Wyandottes 
 their richest ground, whereon to grow their 
 own maize and tobacco. If the Wyandottes 
 complained, the whites fell upon them and 
 beat them, and killed them with magic rods 
 that breathed forth fire and death. The 
 white tribe stole not only the home of the 
 Wyandottes and the rich fields their fathers 
 had cultivated, but the new people killed the 
 game of the forest and what they did not 
 kill they drove from the land with the thun- 
 der of their arms. 
 
 Of all the peoples of the earth, the Wyan- 
 dotte maidens were the most beautiful. 
 Their great eyes were as tender as the 
 mother doe's, and sparkled like the stars in 
 the blue-black sky on a moonless night. 
 Their faces were like the fair full moon, and 
 to look upon them brought joy to their hus- 
 bands in time of trouble. Their natures were
 
 ii2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 like the balmy spring, and their breath was 
 like the south wind, sighing through the 
 forest when the sweet haw blooms. The 
 Great Father loved the Wyandottes, and he 
 said in the beginning : 
 
 " I will give to this tribe the most beauti- 
 ful maidens of all the earth, to make glad 
 and strong the hearts of the braves." 
 
 I was of that tribe, and my heart is sore 
 for the sake of my scattered people. 
 
 When the men of the white tribe saw our 
 beautiful maidens, they coveted them and 
 coaxed them from us. When the maidens 
 could not be coaxed, the white men stole 
 them, kept them for a time, and killed them 
 with hardship and blows. 
 
 Once upon a time, so many summers ago 
 that I have lost the count, there lived among 
 the Wyandottes a young man who was called 
 by his friends "Monyomo," which means in 
 the language of the whites, " The Big Man 
 who Talks Little." Monyomo, when still 
 young, was a brave hunter. He feared 
 neither man nor beast, loved his god, was a 
 true son to his father, and gave to each man 
 his due, whether it were of good or evil. I 
 will not speak of his virtues, for the man who
 
 "Ill WW III. NONE SAVE A LITTLE MAIDEN NAMED ' IONVVAH '"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 113 
 
 sings the song of his own praise will find that 
 none but fools take up the refrain. I was 
 Monyomo, but Monyomo died of grief, and 
 now Wyandotte lives in his place. 
 
 When Monyomo grew to manhood, his 
 friends told him to take a wife, for, said they, 
 "a wife is to a man what the sun and the 
 rains of spring are to the maize." But 
 among all the beautiful Wyandotte maidens 
 there was none he wanted save a little 
 maiden of tender years named " Ionwah," 
 which means " Blue Violet." She was too 
 young to be a wife, but Monyomo looked 
 upon her and loved her, and said he would 
 wait. 
 
 One cold winter, when the earth was white 
 and the trees were black, the old chief of the 
 Wyandottes died, and Monyomo was chosen 
 to rule the tribe. Then he took Blue Violet 
 to his wigwam that she might grow up to 
 love him and be his wife when the cloak of 
 womanhood should fall upon her. 
 
 In those times the hearts of the Wyan- 
 dottes were sad, for the white people con- 
 tinued to pour in upon their hunting-ground 
 and were growing more insolent and more 
 oppressive year by year. Often we coun-
 
 ii 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 selled together to learn from our wise men 
 a plan whereby we might stem the swift 
 torrent of destruction that was rushing down 
 upon our people. The young men desired 
 war ; but the old men said to wait the wait of 
 a just cause, and that Wyandotte Wyolyo, 
 the god of our tribe, would bring us help all 
 in his own good time. 
 
 My heart longed for war, but my head 
 told me that this terrible tribe that had come 
 upon us like a cloud of locusts to steal our 
 homes, would gladly rob us of our lives, and 
 would take our young women to work for 
 them as slaves. 
 
 Monyomo cared not for his life, though 
 the future was rosy with the hue of a spring 
 sunrise, and he wanted to live to hold Blue 
 Violet to his heart as wife, and to see his 
 child upon her breast. He had not suffered 
 from the depredations of the whites save 
 in the suffering of his tribe. Many of those 
 who spoke for war had been maimed and 
 beaten by the whites. Others had lost their 
 sweethearts, wives, and children. All such 
 longed for war, and were glad to welcome 
 death for the sake of a just revenge. 
 
 It is much easier for a man to be wise and
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 115 
 
 prudent in the face of injury to others than 
 it is to think twice if he himself has been 
 wronged. Monyomo had not felt the hand 
 of the white man ; therefore, he, as chief, 
 found it easy to decide with the old men, and 
 the tribe did not then go to war. 
 
 Two springs, two summers, and two win- 
 ters came and passed like the flight of a bird 
 over our heads. The third spring had sent 
 its welcome messengers of wild flowers, and 
 the leaves of the trees were eager to drink 
 the sun. 
 
 The rarest flower to bloom that spring 
 was Blue Violet, and Monyomo told his 
 tribe that he would pluck the beautiful 
 blossom at the next new moon, and would 
 wear it on his heart. 
 
 Upon the day before the sharp-horned 
 moon was due, Monyomo went forth to kill 
 a deer for his wedding feast. It was a bright, 
 warm day, such as gladdens the hearts of 
 the wild flowers ; but it was the blackest day 
 of Monyomo's life. 
 
 Before the sun had started down the hill 
 of the sky, Monyomo had killed a rare, fat 
 buck and, with his trophy over his shoulders, 
 hurried home to lay it at the feet of the
 
 n6 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 maiden who, next day, would be his bride. 
 He had left Blue Violet drinking in the 
 warm sun with the other wild flowers, but 
 when he returned his friends met him, say- 
 ing: 
 
 " Make strong your heart, Monyomo, or 
 grief will crush it ! " 
 
 Where a man loves, there will his heart 
 fly as a mother bird turns ever toward her 
 nestlings ; so my thoughts at once turned to 
 Blue Violet. 
 
 " Is she ill ? " I asked. 
 
 Worse, friend, worse," answered my 
 people, fearing to look me in the face. 
 
 " Is she dead ? Life of my life, is she 
 dead ? " I asked. 
 
 " Worse, friend, worse," came the answer. 
 
 " Ah, the whites ! " I cried, and my head 
 hung in anguish. 
 
 " Yes," answered my friends. " Five white 
 men rode into our village when all our 
 young braves were away. One of the white 
 tribe saw Blue Violet and tried to coax her 
 to go with him. She refused. Then he 
 took her in his arms, placed her before him 
 on his horse, and rode away with her." 
 
 The weight of the white man's hand had
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 117 
 
 fallen upon me, and I knew why so many 
 of our men had counselled for war. The 
 deer I was carrying fell to the ground. I 
 turned my back upon my wigwam and went 
 out among the hills of Wyandotte Wyolyo 
 to be alone with my sorrow and my god. 
 I climbed the rocky steeps until nightfall ; 
 then I shouted aloud to Wyandotte Wyolyo 
 and told him of my grief. When I had 
 spoken, a great black cloud came upon the 
 sky before me, and on the cloud, fire from 
 heaven burned the figure of a blood-red 
 tomahawk. Soon Wyandotte Wyolyo, the 
 god, spoke in tones of rolling thunder : 
 
 " Go back to your village, Monyomo, and 
 gather your braves. On the morrow's night, 
 when the new moon has gone to rest with 
 the sleeping sun, march upon the white 
 tribe. Burn and kill ! Burn and kill ! 
 Spare not ! That which the people of this 
 accursed race has done to you, do you even 
 so to them, a thousand fold. An honest 
 man pays his just debts, and the debt of a 
 righteous vengeance must be paid by every 
 brave man that owes it. When you have 
 killed the whites and burned their houses, 
 take the maiden, Blue Violet. Bring her to
 
 u8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 me and leave her on the stone whereon you 
 are now standing. She shall be your sacri- 
 fice to me. She is the price I ask for 
 giving you revenge. Do you promise that 
 sacrifice ? " 
 
 Monyomo sadly gave his promise to the 
 god and hurried back to the tribe. Word 
 was passed among the warriors, and the next 
 day was spent in sharpening knives and 
 tomahawks. The sun seemed to stand still 
 in the sky, so slowly did it drag its weary 
 way across the blue, and when it had sunk, 
 the new moon hung like a taunting laggard 
 in the blackened west. That night was to 
 have been my wedding feast, but in its place 
 there would be a wedding of death, and my 
 tomahawk should be the high priest. 
 
 After a weary time of waiting the moon 
 sank into the arms of the sun, and darkness 
 fell upon the river and the hills. Monyomo 
 and his braves started silently for the village 
 of the whites. By midnight they were upon 
 it. Not a word was spoken. So silently 
 did the Wyandottes do their work that even 
 the watch dogs were not aroused. Dark, 
 noiseless figures glided here and there and 
 everywhere among the houses, and quick as
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 119 
 
 an eagle pounces upon its prey, half the 
 wigwams in the white village were in flames. 
 
 Monyomo had said to his men : " Kill and 
 kill, but spare the women and watch for 
 Blue Violet." 
 
 Soon the white men began to run from 
 their houses, but they all met death. They 
 fell before the just vengeance of the Wyan- 
 dottes, as the corn falls before the corn knife. 
 Monyomo ran from house to house, calling, 
 "Blue Violet, Blue Violet, Blue Violet!" 
 When he had almost despaired of finding 
 her, she answered and ran, laughing and 
 weeping, to his arms. But he did not take 
 her to his heart. He said : " You are not 
 for me. I will tell you when we go back to 
 the hills." 
 
 Of that night's work I love to speak. 
 
 " There is the man who stole me," cried 
 Blue Violet, pointing to a white man just 
 emerging from a door. I sprang upon him 
 as a wildcat springs upon its prey. I dis- 
 dained my tomahawk and did not touch my 
 knife. I clutched his throat and killed him 
 with these hands. 
 
 No woman or child perished by act of ours, 
 but every man of the white village died that
 
 120 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 night and was left for the carrion crows. 
 When our task was finished, we hurried 
 back to the hills and prepared for war. We 
 knew that the whites would come from far 
 and near to wage the war of extermination 
 against our tribe, so we counselled among 
 ourselves to learn, if possible, what was best 
 to do. 
 
 First of all, it was our duty to offer Blue 
 Violet as a sacrifice to Wyandotte Wyolyo. 
 I loved my god, but my heart was as heavy 
 as a black stone at the thought of losing my 
 bride. The morning after the battle I did 
 not go near her. I was sick with grief, and 
 was not brave enough to tell her the truth. 
 I could endure my own pain much easier 
 than I could bear her sufferings. Presently 
 she came to me and said : 
 
 " Will you not take your bride, Monyomo ? " 
 
 " I cannot, I cannot ! " I answered, turning 
 my face from her. 
 
 " Why can you not ? " she asked. " It is 
 my right to know, for it was not of my will 
 that I was stolen by the whites." 
 
 " It is not because you were stolen by the 
 whites, Blue Violet, that I do not take you 
 for my wife. You are still to me what the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 121 
 
 pure violet of spring is to the sun, what the 
 sweetbrier blossom is to the sighing wind. 
 I would gladly give all I have in the world, 
 my life, my heart, to call you wife; but the 
 god, Wyandotte Wyolyo, demands you, a 
 sacrifice, as the price of your rescue and our 
 vengeance." 
 
 Tears came to her eyes, and she said : 
 " But I am here, and our people have had 
 their revenge. We need not pay the debt 
 to Wyandotte Wyolyo. He can but kill us. 
 I do not fear death, it is but a dreamless 
 sleep beneath the flowers in spring and the 
 snows in winter ; but I do want you for my 
 husband, and I am unhappy that you, who 
 have waited so long and patiently for me, 
 should forego the happiness your life has 
 earned. Wyandotte Wyolyo will not know, 
 nor will he care. Keep me for your own, 
 Monyomo. The god will forget your prom- 
 ise, and the sun will shine once more for 
 you and for me." 
 
 It hurt my ears to hear her entreaties, but 
 with nimble tongue she spoke from an over- 
 flowing heart and almost tempted me to 
 break my word with the god who had given 
 us our vengeance. She drew me to her side
 
 122 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 and painted the picture of the future with 
 such sweet grace that it took all my man- 
 hood to resist entering into the heaven of 
 her love. But my manhood came to my 
 help, and I left her weeping. 
 
 That evening I led her to the barren hills 
 and left her amid their desolation, standing 
 on the spot whereon I had stood before the 
 god. 
 
 We rested for a week, but we knew that 
 trouble was ahead. From time to time our 
 scouts brought in news that the white tribe 
 was gathering a great army of men, armed 
 with small guns and with great guns on 
 wheels, and that they were coming to wipe 
 our tribe from the face of the earth, as a war- 
 rior wipes the war paint from his forehead 
 after battle. We watched and waited for 
 their approach. 
 
 Another sharp-horned moon had come and 
 the Wyandottes had begun to hope that the 
 whites would not molest them ; but one day, 
 as the sun was sinking, our scouts came 
 running to tell us that the white man's army 
 was but two hours distant. 
 
 We called a council of the wise men and 
 the braves to determine what we should do.
 
 
 
 
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 "I I.ED HER TO THE BARREN HILLS AND I LIT lll.K"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 123 
 
 Our scouts said the white man's army out- 
 numbered the Wyandottes as the leaves of 
 a tree outnumber the fruit. I and our 
 warriors wanted to fight and die; but the 
 wise men said we must consider the women, 
 the children, and the aged. 
 
 They said : " The white man will have no 
 mercy on these, and though death is sweet 
 when it comes to a brave man fighting in a 
 cause he loves, it is terrible to those who 
 cannot resist, but must die while the blood is 
 cold in fear. These white men will kill our 
 women, children, aged and feeble ones, and 
 will carry our young women into a captivity 
 worse than death. We must not fight. We 
 will escape to the hills ; and thence we may 
 be able to travel toward the setting sun, 
 where the curse of the white man's shadow 
 has not fallen." 
 
 That night we left our wigwams and 
 started for the hills of Wyandotte Wyolyo, 
 hoping that the god that had given us ven- 
 geance would lead us from under the yoke. 
 When we reached the top of the first foot- 
 hill, we could see the white man's army 
 swarming in our deserted village. We saw 
 the flames of our wigwams, and as the shad-
 
 i2 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 ows of night were about to fall, we saw the 
 white men hurrying toward us in pursuit. 
 But the white man is lazy and will not work 
 at night. Soon after dark we saw their 
 campfires, and then we sent back scouts to 
 watch their camp. 
 
 The road ahead of us was unknown to any 
 of our tribe, for the hills were sacred to our 
 god, and we had never trespassed upon them. 
 In the darkness of the night we rested ; but 
 before the east was pink we rose with the 
 gray dawn, and again took up our journey to 
 our god in the hope that he would help us 
 in the time of our dire need. 
 
 Hardly had we started when we saw the 
 enemy in pursuit. The white men were all 
 young and active. Our braves were active, 
 too, and they might easily have escaped ; but 
 our women, children, and old men moved 
 slowly, and there was no thought in our 
 hearts of deserting them. 
 
 By noon the white men were so close upon 
 us that their bullets almost reached our 
 braves who were guarding the rear. The 
 whites would be upon us in less than half of 
 half an hour. I saw no hope, and in desper- 
 ation prepared to die righting. Our people
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 125 
 
 numbered less than ten score souls. The 
 work the whites had begun a few years before 
 would soon be finished, and our tribe would 
 be like the sunlight of yesterday. 
 
 To continue our flight was hopeless. We 
 could die where we were quite as well as 
 farther on. Therefore I said : 
 
 " My people, we will ascend this hill, pass 
 to the other side, and stop at the spot where 
 Wyandotte Wyolyo gave me his promise of 
 vengeance. There the rocks will give us 
 some protection, and there our god may hear 
 our cry for help. If he does not hear us, we 
 will offer our blood as a sacrifice to him, and 
 he will avenge our wrongs." 
 
 Before us was a high hill, shaped like the 
 half of an egg. When we reached the top, 
 the white men were at the foot, shouting and 
 triumphant, thirsting for our blood and con- 
 fident of getting it. The Wyandottes hur- 
 ried down the north side of the hill, and 
 when they were halfway toward the foot, I 
 recognized the spot whereon I had left Blue 
 Violet a month before, a sacrifice to our god. 
 I shouted to my people to stop, and then 
 I called to Wyandotte Wyolyo for help. I 
 had called thrice when the answer came.
 
 126 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 By my side grew a great flowering bush that 
 sprang from the hard rock as good some- 
 times comes from evil, and from the bush 
 came Blue Violet. I took her to my arms, 
 and said : 
 
 " The white men are upon us. Their 
 numbers are as the stars on a clear night. 
 Ask Wyandotte Wyolyo to help us or we 
 are lost!" 
 
 She turned quickly to the flowering bush, 
 drew it to one side, and said : 
 
 " Enter here." 
 
 I looked, and there I beheld, opening into 
 the rock, a doorway large enough for three 
 stooping men to enter at the same time. I 
 lost not one moment, but immediately or- 
 dered my people to enter this refuge the god 
 had offered us. The women, children, and 
 the aged ones were the first to enter the home 
 of Wyandotte Wyolyo ; then the young men 
 followed, and the last to go was Monyomo. 
 He lingered, hidden by the flowering bush, 
 to watch the white men. He had not long 
 to wait, for hardly had the last of the Wyan- 
 dottes entered the home of their god when 
 the white men came swarming to the crest 
 of the hill like wolves in pursuit of a doe.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 127 
 
 They were shouting in triumph, and were 
 ready with their guns to send death upon 
 the Indians, whom they expected to see on 
 the open ground below them. They paused 
 for a moment on the crest of the hill, and 
 then rushed down among the rocks, expect- 
 ing there to find us hiding like foxes. Half- 
 way down the hill they halted by the flowering 
 bush, and cursed and growled like wolves 
 disappointed of their prey. I watched from 
 behind the flowering bush and I felt that 
 my people were safe. Had not Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo made for us a refuge in the heart of 
 the rock ? Had he not given us life at the 
 hands of the sacrifice we had made to him ? 
 
 All day the whites sought us among the 
 rocks ; but when evening approached they 
 marched back over the hills, and I, hiding be- 
 hind the rocks, watched them until they were 
 lost in the darkness of the night. Then I 
 entered into the heart of the rock where my 
 people were hiding, to cheer them with the 
 news that our enemy had left us with our 
 god. 
 
 I found the Wyandottes sitting hand in 
 hand in a great vaulted chamber. Surely no 
 one could doubt that it was the handiwork
 
 128 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 of our god. In it there was room for all and 
 for many more. I did not see all the chamber 
 when first I entered, but when I told my 
 people that the white men had departed, our 
 braves crept out through the flowering bush 
 to gather wood, and we kindled a fire. 
 Then all the marvels of this wondrous home 
 of our wondrous god were shown to our eyes. 
 
 I asked for Blue Violet. I was sitting by 
 the fire, and soon she knelt by my side. She 
 placed her arms about my neck, saying : 
 
 " My Monyomo, Wyandotte Wyolyo has 
 given me back to you, but Blue Violet is dying 
 for food. She has eaten only a handful of 
 roots and a few berries since you left her here, 
 a sacrifice to the god of our people. She stood 
 until nightfall where you left her, but Wyan- 
 dotte Wyolyo did not come. She was tired 
 and cold, and when a bird flew from the 
 flowering bush, she thought to find a poor 
 shelter under the branches and the leaves, 
 but when she stooped to lie down beneath the 
 bush, the god made an opening in the rock for 
 his bride, and she entered. Here she waited, 
 faithful to your command, for Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo to come and take her ; but he did not 
 come, and now he has returned her to you,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 129 
 
 Monyomo, and she will never leave you 
 again." 
 
 Her cheeks, once so round and red, were 
 sunken and gray. Her great eyes, once so 
 soft and brown, were dim, and her breath 
 came fitfully. My Blue Violet had faded 
 while dutifully waiting for her god to take 
 her, that she might save her tribe. 
 
 I was up before the sun next morning, and 
 Wyandotte Wyolyo giving me good fortune, 
 I soon killed a doe and took it to Blue Violet 
 and my people. Blue Violet ate sparingly of 
 the meat, and then she sat beside me with 
 her head upon my breast. Thus we sat for 
 hours in sweet silence. I thought she slept, 
 but after a time her thin hand grew cold, and 
 I knew she slept the sleep of death. We 
 buried her among the rocks of Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo's home ; and, saving Balserbrent and 
 Tomandybilladdison, who have been kind to 
 me, I hate every white man that breathes the 
 breath of life ! 
 
 While I was watching the white men, Blue 
 Violet had shown my people an opening to 
 an inner cave. The opening was so small 
 that two persons could not pass through 
 together, and a very large man would find
 
 i 3 o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 difficulty in entering at all. The opening 
 was so cunningly concealed by rocks that 
 one in the first cavern might easily fail to 
 find it. This second doorway in the rock led 
 to the real home of the god, Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo. 
 
 In it are beautiful chambers, as many as 
 the fishes in the river. One must learn their 
 winding ways if he would walk through them, 
 or he will perish in the heart of the rocks. 
 In the chambers and halls of this great cave 
 are the white devils that guard the home of 
 the god ; but the god turned them to rock for 
 the sake of his people, and drove the wolves 
 from the door that we might find refuge from 
 the whites. 
 
 The Wyandottes lived in the home of their 
 god for many moons, but the white men 
 sought our lives, and one by one our braves 
 were killed while seeking food for the old 
 people, the children, and the squaws. We 
 lived like hunted wild beasts, and were al- 
 ways in the shadow of death. Our life was 
 half death for want of food, but at times we 
 were able to take from the white men a poor 
 mouthful. 
 
 One day our braves brought in three white
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 131 
 
 men whom they had captured. The white 
 men all died that night. 
 
 At the foot of the hill where the white 
 men had been captured was a wagon that had 
 belonged to them. We hoped to find food 
 in the wagon, but we found nothing save 
 fine silks, rich cloths, and five small chests, 
 which we carried to the cave. In these 
 chests was gold the white man's god. For 
 it he will give his blood, his life, his honor. 
 It was worthless to us. We could not eat it 
 and we dared not go among the whites to 
 use it in buying food. 
 
 Our people were starving, and one by one 
 they died, until there were left out of the ten 
 score souls barely four score. These left the 
 cave by ones and twos, and a day dawned 
 when Monyomo sat alone in the home of his 
 god and begged for death. 
 
 But death is a blessing that Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo sends to man only when he has 
 earned it. Monyomo had not earned his 
 black crown, so he left the cave, kissed the 
 rock under which Blue Violet lay, and ever 
 since that day has been a wanderer upon the 
 face of this hard, cruel earth. 
 
 From you, Tomandybilladdison, and from 

 
 i 3 2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 you, Balserbrent, I have had the first kind- 
 ness that has ever come to me by the hand 
 of a white man. I and my people are to the 
 white people what the doe is to the wolf. 
 May the God of your people and the god of 
 my people judge between us. I have said. 
 
 Wyandotte wound his blanket about him, 
 took his gun, knife, and hatchet, and started 
 for the door. We begged him to remain, and 
 offered him our hut for a home, but he shook 
 his head. While he was standing in the 
 door, I said : 
 
 " Tell us where the cave is, Wyandotte." 
 
 He turned quickly upon us with a glare of 
 anger, and said : 
 
 " I wondered if good for the sake of good 
 could come from a white man's heart. You 
 have been kind to me because you hoped to 
 find the gold. Hope no more." 
 
 " We knew nothing of the gold when we 
 took you in and cared for you, and nursed 
 you back to life," said Balser. 
 
 His face seemed to soften, and he answered, 
 " True." Then he went out into the dark- 
 ness and we saw him no more.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE FLOOD AND THE MOTHER BEAR 
 
 Let a hint of hidden treasure once get 
 into a boy's head (said Uncle Tom Andy 
 Bill next evening, when we were all settled 
 cozily about the fire) and everything else 
 gets out. There is a fascination about it 
 that no boy can resist, and, in my opinion, 
 no right-minded boy ought to try to resist it. 
 
 After Wyandotte left us, Balser and I sat 
 before the fire talking excitedly about the 
 gold that lay hidden somewhere in the mar- 
 vellous cave. 
 
 " Five chests ! " exclaimed Balser. " I tell 
 you, Tom Andy Bill, we must find that 
 cave ! " 
 
 " Yes," said I, " we must ; but how can 
 we? One moon, two moons, three moons 
 journey from here. He might as well have 
 said that the treasure was in the moon for 
 all the good his story does us." 
 
 "But think of it," said Balser. "Five 
 133
 
 i 3 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 chests! Suppose there are one thousand 
 dollars in each chest, and no decent chest 
 would think of having less; that would 
 make five thousand dollars. Why, I tell 
 you, Tom Andy Bill, we would be rich if 
 we could find it. Twenty-five hundred dol- 
 lars apiece ! We could each buy three hun- 
 dred acres of ground of good ground 
 if we could find the treasure." 
 
 " Many a man has fallen over that little 
 word if,' " said I. 
 
 11 Oh, but we know so much about it al- 
 ready," returned Balser. " We know that it 
 is hidden in Wyandotte's cave. We know 
 that the cave is near a great river, and we 
 know even the number of chests of gold. 
 We know all except the exact location of 
 the cave." 
 
 "Yes," said I, sarcastically; "that's all 
 we don't know. How much more, for good- 
 ness' sake, would you like not to know ? " 
 
 " I admit it's a good deal not to know," 
 said Balser, "but what we have heard I 
 think is a good deal to know. Wyandotte 
 said the cave was near a great river. He 
 must have meant the Ohio River." 
 
 " Or the Mississippi," I interrupted.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 135 
 
 " Yes, he may have meant the Mississippi, 
 or any other river, but we'll have that treas- 
 ure some day, just as sure as you're alive, n 
 said Balser. 
 
 And I said, " I hope you're right." 
 
 Balser and I continued to talk about the 
 treasure until long past midnight, when we 
 turned in and dreamed of chests of gold and 
 caves and Indians, until Solomon awakened 
 us singing for corn. 
 
 After the Wyandotte gold got to ringing 
 in our ears, the pelts we took seemed almost 
 worthless, and our zest in the work sadly 
 flagged. We did not, however, neglect the 
 traps and guns, but we loved best to sit 
 before the fire after supper, discussing the 
 treasure and talking of what we would do 
 with the money. At times we said we 
 would buy land, but the land would have 
 to be cleared and clearing was very hard 
 work. We thought of a great many uses 
 to which we could put the money, but al- 
 ways fell back upon one plan ; Balser would 
 give his part of the gold to his father and I 
 would give my part to my father. 
 
 "Won't it be great," said Balser, "when 
 I go into the house and throw a bag full
 
 136 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 of something down on the floor in front 
 of father, and say kind of careless like, 
 ' There's a present for you, father ; ' and 
 father will look at it kind of careless like, 
 and he'll say, 'What is it, son?' and I'll 
 say : ' Oh, nothing much. Just a little gold,' 
 and then My ! I wish I knew where the 
 cave is ! " 
 
 I suppose there is not a man living who 
 has become rich, having been poor, who will 
 not say that his anticipation of wealth was 
 far sweeter than the realization. I tell you, 
 one dream dollar is worth a double eagle of 
 gold, though I admit that it will not buy as 
 much to eat. As long as I live, I'll never 
 forget our dreams of treasure while sitting 
 before the fire on our stump chairs in the 
 cabin on Brandywine. We were rich then 
 richer than Croesus in health, youth, and 
 dreams. My life! what more could a man 
 ask ? Health, youth, and dreams ! That's 
 the stuff heaven is made of. 
 
 The old man leaned forward, gazing in 
 revery at the fire, but he did not see the 
 flames nor the glowing embers. He saw two 
 boys sitting happily together in their rude
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 137 
 
 cabin, dreaming and talking in their dreams. 
 It was as if he were looking through an 
 inverted telescope back through the long 
 years. The boys looked so small and so far 
 away that they seemed to him like beings of 
 another race living in another world. We 
 all knew what Uncle Tom Andy Bill was 
 thinking about, and no one spoke a word to 
 disturb his retrospection. Even little Mab 
 felt the touch of sympathy, and reached up 
 from her chair, slipping her dimpled hand 
 into his. He kissed it, lifted his head, sighed, 
 and continued : 
 
 " Ah, life was sweet." Then he relapsed 
 into silence again. After a little time one 
 of the older girls said : 
 
 " It is sweet now, Uncle Tom." 
 
 " So it is, so it is. It's always sweet, but 
 when one gets old, some one else must fur- 
 nish the sugar," answered Uncle Tom Andy 
 Bill. " I believe I'll tell you about the flood," 
 continued the Adopter. 
 
 " Oh, no," protested Mab. " Tell us another 
 bear story. We had all about the flood in 
 Sunday-school last Sunday. The teacher 
 told us all about the ark, and the animals, and 
 Noah. We know all about that, and "
 
 138 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " No, no, I don't intend to tell you about 
 that flood," said Uncle Tom Andy Bill. 
 " The flood I'll tell you about occurred while 
 Balser and I were living in the cabin on 
 Brandywine, and the only animals that took 
 any part in it were Solomon, Tige and Prince, 
 a mother bear, and her cubs." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right," said Mab, laughing 
 contentedly and settling herself in her chair. 
 " Now go ahead." 
 
 Mab was the toast-master and started the 
 speaker off every evening. 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 Well, the flood came upon us as most 
 troubles come with a rush. It happened 
 during the latter part of February. The win- 
 ter had been very cold, and snow had accu- 
 mulated in great quantities on the ground. 
 I don't know that I have ever seen a more 
 beautiful winter than that was. During the 
 last week in February we noticed indications 
 of a break in the cold weather. I especially 
 remember one night. Balser and I were talk- 
 ing " treasure," as usual, before the fire. The 
 room was too warm, and I opened the door. 
 When I sat down again, I said :
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 139 
 
 " We'd better be moving home, Balser, or 
 the snow will melt, and poor Solomon will 
 have to drag the sled over the bare ground. 
 That would break his heart, and if we want 
 to save him the trouble, we will have to be 
 going pretty soon." 
 
 " You're right," answered Balser. " There's 
 another danger, too. If the snow melts 
 quickly, Brandywine will come up before we 
 can bat our eyes, and we'll be surrounded by 
 water. The few acres of ground immedi- 
 ately about here is high enough to protect 
 us from a small flood, but back of us the 
 ground is low and the creek is in front. If 
 we wait till the snow melts, you and I and 
 Solomon will have to wait for the flood to 
 go off, for we will be on an island. The 
 cabin is on rather low ground, and the flood 
 might reach even up to us. In that case, it 
 would drive us to the little knoll behind the 
 cabin, and we would be without shelter." 
 
 "That's right," said I. "Let us take up 
 our traps to-morrow and start for home the 
 day after." 
 
 " Agreed," answered Balser. " Then we'll 
 sell our pelts and start out to find the treas- 
 ure." 

 
 i 4 o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " Which way will you start ? " I asked, 
 laughing. " One moon, two moon, three 
 moon. I tell you, Balser, we might as well 
 start for the moon." 
 
 Balser's dreams, you see, were far more real 
 to him than mine were to me. 
 
 " I don't know which way we'll start," he 
 answered, slightly nettled. " If you don't want 
 to try to find the treasure, say so, and I'll try it 
 alone, for I tell you, Tom Andy Bill, I'm de- 
 termined to have that gold. If we try, we 
 may fail probably shall ; but if we don't 
 try at all, we'll be sure not to find it." 
 
 " Your reasoning is good, Balser," I re- 
 sponded. " I do want to try, but while I love 
 to dream about it and to talk about it, I'll tell 
 you candidly that I haven't much faith in 
 Wyandotte's gold. But I should like to 
 know your plan for beginning to try." 
 
 You see I lacked imagination and persist- 
 ency, and Balser had plenty of both. 
 
 " I haven't a plan," he answered hesitat- 
 ingly ; " but I suppose the first thing to do 
 is to ask everybody we meet whether they 
 know of any caves. If any one should 
 happen to tell us of a great cave near a 
 river well, we'll quit ploughing corn and go
 
 TlilY LONG FOR SPRING ANIi COMI OU1 OF TUKIR Ht'KKOWS 
 IN UAltCM OF FOOD"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 141 
 
 to that cave. But if we hear of none that 
 answers Wyandotte's description, we'll wait 
 till after the corn is laid by, and then we'll 
 start out on our own hook. I would suggest 
 that we go to towns along the Ohio River and 
 ask the people if they know of any caves in 
 their vicinity, and and " 
 
 " By George, it's a good plan, Balser ! " 
 said I ; " there is hope." 
 
 " Of course there is," he responded. 
 
 From that hour I too was afire with the 
 treasure fever. 
 
 Next morning when we awakened, the 
 weather had turned cold again, and we de- 
 cided not to move until we saw further indi- 
 cations of a break. 
 
 The latter part of a cold winter is the best 
 time to take fur-bearing animals. They long 
 for spring and come out of their burrows in 
 search of food. It was during February that 
 we captured most of the beavers taken by lis 
 that year. February was the cream of the 
 season, as I might say. In ten days we took 
 more than fifty beaver pelts, twice as many 
 minks, and a score of weasels. We killed no 
 less than a dozen red foxes, and so many 
 muskrats and coons that we lost count. Of
 
 i 4 2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 course, we devoted most of our time to hunt- 
 ing beavers, because their fur was far more 
 valuable than that of any other animal we 
 could take except bear. As I have told you, 
 the weather turned cold again; so we re- 
 mained, and we did take a fine lot of skins. 
 
 I remember breaking up a beaver dam that 
 extended entirely across the creek about a 
 mile above the cabin. The dam was most 
 cunningly constructed. No man could have 
 built a better one. It was made of the branches 
 of trees and logs. Many of the logs were six 
 inches in diameter. The branches and logs 
 were knit together most adroitly and were 
 covered with leaves, grass, and mud. So com- 
 pletely did the dam obstruct the creek that a 
 mill-pond was created extending nearly half 
 a mile up-stream. 
 
 On the morning that we made the great 
 haul, we found all our traps full. We killed 
 the beavers that had been caught in the traps 
 by striking them on the head with a heavy 
 club. After we had emptied our traps, Balser 
 walked out on the dam and found that the 
 warm weather had melted the ice in places 
 about the logs and tree branches. He tried 
 to loosen them and soon found several that
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 143 
 
 yielded to his efforts. He drew out three or 
 four loose logs, and then thrust a long pole 
 down into the dam. This, of course, caused 
 consternation among the poor little beavers, 
 and they began to run out through the tunnel 
 that served them as a doorway and opened 
 above the water line on the bank. I stood 
 at the opening, club in hand, and killed the 
 beavers as they came out. That morning, I 
 think, we got twenty-two. 
 
 It seemed cruel to kill the beautiful little ani- 
 mals, and I was sore of conscience, but there 
 were two good reasons for killing them. One 
 was that we wanted their pelts. That reason 
 alone might not have justified us, but the 
 second one did. It was this: no orchard 
 could live in the neighborhood of a beaver 
 dam. The little pests gnawed the bark from 
 the young fruit trees and killed them as fast 
 as the farmers could plant them. But they 
 did even greater damage than this. Their 
 dams blockaded the streams, backing the 
 water over the bottom land and ruining the 
 ground for agricultural purposes. 
 
 I have heard a great deal of sympathy ex- 
 pressed for the thousands of wild animals 
 that were slaughtered by the settlers in early
 
 144 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 days; but it was war to the death between 
 man and the beasts of the forest. The set- 
 tlers' greatest enemy was these wild animals. 
 The fox, the mink, the weasel, the coon, and 
 the muskrat would often depopulate a large 
 poultry yard in one night. Turkeys, chick- 
 ens, ducks, and geese could be raised only by 
 keeping them constantly in sight or by con- 
 fining them in substantial buildings, and the 
 farmers were too poor to construct these. 
 
 Two or three bears and a herd of deer 
 once destroyed a large field of young corn 
 for my father. In one night he lost an en- 
 tire season's work by their depredations. I 
 remember one winter Balser's father lost six 
 fine fat shoats that he was saving for his 
 winter's meat. Bears killed them all in one 
 night. Bill Raster lost nineteen sheep be- 
 tween sunset and sunrise. I tell you, the 
 settlers had to kill the game or move out of 
 the country. But I was always soft-hearted 
 about it, and now that the poor animals are 
 conquered, I would not shoot one in cold 
 blood. 
 
 I have hunted the beasts and the birds of 
 the forest as much, I suppose, as any man of 
 my years, but I stopped when the foe was
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 145 
 
 conquered, and now the poor wild things 
 should be allowed to live. There are not 
 many left, and the rich farmer of to-day is 
 able to protect himself against them. But 
 when I was a boy we had to kill them in self- 
 defence. 
 
 But I must get back to the story of the 
 flood. The weather remained cold, and 
 Balser and I were so busy taking pelts that 
 we forgot what we had said about the thaw. 
 During the warm days the ice had broken, 
 and it was banked up in huge piles at the 
 drifts and bends in the creek. The drifted 
 ice so completely dammed the stream in 
 many places that a warm day and a heavy 
 rain might flood us in a few hours, but we 
 clung to the cabin. 
 
 One morning we awakened to find the sun 
 as bright and almost as warm as on a fair 
 May day. Two such days would spoil the 
 snow. 
 
 After feeding Solomon, Balser came back 
 to the cabin, where I was getting breakfast, 
 and said : 
 
 " We'll go home to-morrow, sure, Tom 
 Andy Bill, or we will be flooded." 
 
 By noon the weather was warmer, the sky
 
 146 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 was overcast with clouds, and the rain began 
 to fall in torrents. We knew then that the 
 flood would soon come, so we prepared for 
 instant flight. But we had waited too long. 
 By four o'clock the flood was coming down 
 the creek like a tidal wave, and by six 
 o'clock we were on an island of perhaps 
 twenty acres in extent. 
 
 Part of the island it may have been as 
 much as four or five acres was higher 
 than the ground on which our cabin and 
 Solomon's stable stood. The flood could 
 not reach the highest point. We hoped the 
 water would not reach the cabin, though 
 when we turned in that night, we were not 
 at all sure that we would not be afloat before 
 morning. But when we woke up, the water 
 was still quite a distance below the cabin, 
 and we felt confident it would not reach us 
 unless the rain continued for an unusual 
 period. But the rain did continue. 
 
 For a day or two Balser and I were busily 
 engaged in packing away our pelts in bundles 
 and in removing them to the higher ground, 
 where we constructed a rude shelter of tree 
 branches and swamp grass straw. The 
 work did not last long, and when it was fin*
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 147 
 
 ished we had nothing to do but to sit about 
 the cabin and talk "treasure." When the 
 rain ceased, the sun shone out gladly, and 
 the air was as balmy as in spring. The 
 country, at that time, was not drained as it is 
 now; therefore the floods passed off slowly. 
 The great quantities of melting snow also 
 prolonged the flood, and it seemed to Balser 
 and me that the yellow, turbid water had 
 come to stay. Several days of bright, warm 
 sunshine passed, until at length the grass 
 began to grow, and the wild flowers and 
 even the leaves of the trees were coaxed into 
 bud before their time. Balser and I were 
 growing tired of our imprisonment, but a 
 more serious matter confronted us. Our 
 provisions were running short. The warm 
 weather had spoiled our fresh meat, and 
 our meal and potatoes were rapidly disap- 
 pearing. There was no game on the island 
 that we had been able to find. The wild 
 inhabitants of the forest had been wise 
 enough to move before the flood. 
 
 Day after day we loafed about aimlessly 
 until we were tired of even our treasure 
 dreams. We would sit by the creek or in 
 the cabin, and often, when the sun was warm,
 
 148 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 we would stretch ourselves in a bright spot 
 on the new grass and the wild flowers, and 
 would " snooze " like sleepy cats, waiting for 
 the flood to ebb. 
 
 One bright, warm day I stretched myself 
 in a patch of sunshine a few hundred yards 
 from the cabin. I don't know how long I 
 had been sleeping when I was awakened by 
 the touch of something cold on my face. 
 When I opened my eyes, I gazed up into 
 an inquisitive-looking, sharp-snouted, black, 
 frowsy little countenance that seemed to be 
 laughing at me. It was the cold nose be- 
 longing to this little face that had disturbed 
 my slumbers. Just above the saucy little 
 face was a larger one, and Moses! maybe 
 I wasn't frightened ! What I saw was a 
 bear cub and its mother. 
 
 I shouted in my fright and began to rise. 
 The bears were as much frightened as I and 
 quickly turned tail. I sat up and looked 
 after them, taking considerable satisfaction 
 from the feeling that I had frightened them 
 as badly as they had frightened me. There 
 were three in the bear family the mother 
 and two cubs. A mother bear with cubs 
 doesn't run far if her children lag behind.
 
 "The bkars were as much frightened as I
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 149 
 
 I suppose no animal that lives, not even a 
 doe, is as curious as a bear cub. 
 
 After my friends had retreated to a little 
 distance, the cubs turned to look at me. 
 They seemed to laugh at the curious object 
 they had disturbed, and doubtless thinking 
 that I was an animated log, wanted to ex- 
 amine the natural wonder. 
 
 I stood where I had risen, and presently 
 the mother bear grunted not unlike a pig, 
 summoning her children to follow her. The 
 disobedient cubs did not move, and she 
 came back to them, placed herself between 
 me and her babies, and rose defiantly to her 
 feet, as if to say, " Don't you touch one of 
 my cubs." I stood still, and soon the mother 
 bear fell to all fours, turned toward the cubs, 
 and placing her long snout under them, be- 
 gan to root them forward as a pig roots the 
 ground. 
 
 It was amusing and beautiful to see the 
 great, clumsy, loving mother trying to "root" 
 her children out of danger. I watched her 
 for a long time. She gave the stubborn cubs 
 a boost forward with her snout, scolding them 
 with grunts and growls the while, and turn- 
 ing every few seconds toward me, half in
 
 150 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 anger, half in fear. I could plainly hear her 
 say to the cubs : 
 
 " Go on, you little fools. Don't you know 
 that is a man, the most dangerous animal in 
 the world ? " 
 
 But the cubs, like many another fool that 
 doesn't know danger when he sees it and 
 mistakes his lack of wisdom for bravery, 
 wanted to see more of this dangerous ani- 
 mal and tried to run back to me. They 
 were not afraid ! No, not they ! At such 
 times the poor old mother bear would run 
 clumsily after the awkward cubs, growling, 
 grunting, and scolding in great tribulation. 
 Presently she became angry in earnest, and 
 struck one of the cubs a blow with her 
 paw that sent it tumbling down a little 
 hill, howling and whining as if it were 
 being killed. After that the youngsters 
 toddled on ahead while the old bear, anx- 
 iously glancing back at me, waddled after 
 them and soon disappeared in the thicket. 
 I followed, but lost them in the underbrush, 
 and returned to the cabin. 
 
 I told Balser of my adventure, when we at 
 once shouldered our guns and started in pur- 
 suit. We forgot the dogs and left them
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 151 
 
 sleeping on the sunny side of the cabin. 
 Afterward we were glad that we had not 
 disturbed their rest. 
 
 The island was small, and we felt sure the 
 old bear would not try to escape by swim- 
 ming because we supposed her cubs could 
 not follow her. They would perish in the 
 water, which was cold and broad and swift, 
 too cold and broad and swift for even Balser 
 or me to try to swim, and the loving old 
 bear would never desert her cubs. She 
 would bravely stay by their side, and would 
 give her life to save them without one thought 
 of herself. Balser and I, therefore, felt sure 
 that we could not fail to bag the whole 
 family. 
 
 We hurried to the spot where the bears 
 had entered the thicket, thrust aside the 
 bushes, and soon took up the spoor on the 
 soft ground. The tracks were plainly visible 
 and were always in the same relative position 
 the cubs in front and the mother in the 
 place of danger, guarding their retreat. 
 
 I confess my heart softened when I thought 
 of the old mother bear holding her life as 
 nothing for the sake of her cubs, but my 
 sympathy did not check our pursuit.
 
 152 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 We moved cautiously and silently, with 
 guns always ready for instant use, for we 
 knew that the mother bear would fight like 
 forty demons when she learned that her cubs 
 were in danger. We knew that when she 
 saw us and realized that we were after her 
 children, she would charge upon us without 
 the slightest fear. She would, if she could, 
 engage us at peril of her own life while her 
 cubs escaped, and would gladly give us every 
 drop of her blood to save her young. I felt 
 like a wolf a cowardly wolf. But it seemed 
 to be our duty to kill the bears, and we 
 hurried forward on our mission of death. 
 We made slow progress through the thicket, 
 but we knew we could not have far to go 
 until the water would stop us and the 
 bears. 
 
 After we had followed the tracks a short 
 distance into the thicket, we came to a small 
 hill upon which grew several large walnut 
 trees. We ascended the hill and as our heads 
 rose above the crest, we saw the mother bear 
 and her cubs playing in a small sunlit ravine 
 just below us. We each hid behind a large 
 tree to watch them. 
 
 Poor old mother bear ! She thought she
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 153 
 
 had taken her family to a place of safety, but 
 no place is safe from that most dangerous of all 
 animals, man. Believing herself safe, she had 
 relaxed her vigilance and was playing with 
 her babies. No prettier sight ever greeted 
 the eyes of a murderous hunter. She lay 
 upon her back with all four feet in the air, and 
 when the playful cubs ran to her, she pushed 
 them away with her great, horny paw as 
 gently as a mother touches the chin of the 
 babe cooing in her lap. Then she would let 
 them clutch her paw or her great, hairy throat 
 between their baby jaws, and would allow 
 them to " wool " her as a puppy does its play- 
 mate. 
 
 If, for a moment, being out of breath, the 
 cubs rested on their haunches, laughing and 
 panting with their little red mouths open 
 and their tongues hanging out, she would 
 incite them to renew the frolic by feinting 
 at them with her paws or by lifting her lips 
 from her white teeth in mimic anger. Then 
 the awkward, precious cubs would fall upon 
 her with fierce baby growls, and the dear 
 old mother bear, all unconscious of the over- 
 hanging shadow of death, revelled in the 
 sweetest bliss that bear or man can know.
 
 i 5 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 For five minutes Balser and I watched the 
 touching little comedy with its impending 
 tragic end. When the cubs were tired and 
 out of breath, they lay down beside the mother 
 in the balmy warmth of the sun, and she 
 licked their downy sides till they shone with 
 the lustre of her love. Twice I saw Balser 
 lift his gun to fire, but twice he lowered it. 
 I glanced at his face, and I thought that tears 
 were in his eyes. I tried to lift my gun, but 
 some way my heart failed me. 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Tom Andy Bill," I said to 
 myself ; " you are as soft-hearted as a chicken." 
 
 I tried to coax myself to shoot and failing 
 in that, I tried to bully myself, but for a time 
 it was all of no avail. I could neither coax 
 nor drive myself to send the fatal bullet on 
 its mission of death. Presently I clinched 
 my teeth, determined to fire the shot. I 
 lifted my gun to my shoulder and glanced 
 toward Balser. He looked at me with a 
 curious expression on his face, and my gun 
 came down again. I shook my head dole- 
 fully, as if to say, " I can't do it," and he 
 shook his head, but neither of us spoke a 
 word. We watched the bears a moment 
 longer, and wishing to lead ourselves out of
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 155 
 
 temptation, noiselessly turned away and 
 started down the hill. 
 
 We stole back to the crest of the hill for 
 one more look, and saw the mother bear 
 stretched full length in the sunshine, the two 
 cubs lying with their frowsy baby heads rest- 
 ing upon her brave, tender heart. I would 
 not have killed her for all the Wyandotte 
 treasure laid at my feet. 
 
 We went back in silence to our cabin, and 
 Balser began to prepare supper. 
 
 " The meal is getting dangerously low," 
 said he, " and there's not over two pecks of 
 potatoes left. If the flood doesn't soon go 
 down, we may have to kill the old bear or 
 starve." 
 
 " I'll swim for it first," said I. " I'll let the 
 old bear alone if she doesn't bother me." 
 
 " Did you ever see anything more beauti- 
 ful ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " It was human," I answered; "and all my 
 life I'll be glad to think that I had enough 
 humanity in my heart not to kill her." 
 
 " God seems to have scattered love broad- 
 cast on this earth," said Balser, who should 
 have been a poet. " I believe it is the magic 
 bond that holds the world together."
 
 156 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 The longer I live, the more convinced I 
 am that he was right. 
 
 That night the rain came on again. My 
 life, how it did pour down ! Soon after dark 
 it came in torrents. We lay for a long time 
 listening to the fierce patter on the roof, 
 talking about the mother bear and dreaming 
 of Wyandotte's treasure ; but our eyes were 
 always full of sleep and nothing could keep us 
 awake for long. 
 
 At times during the night we were awak- 
 ened by thunder. How it did boom and 
 rumble ! It seemed as if the sky were scold- 
 ing the earth with the voices of a thousand 
 cannon. The lightning, too, was like a con- 
 stant conflagration in the clouds, but we soon 
 grew accustomed to the fierce war and went 
 to sleep again. 
 
 I don't know how long we had slept when 
 I was aroused by the barking of Tige and 
 Prince just outside the door. 
 
 " Keep still ! " I shouted, but the dogs con- 
 tinued to bark, and I, becoming angry, rose 
 and opened the door to silence them. When 
 I put my feet down to the floor from the 
 slightly elevated platform on which we had 
 made our bed, I stepped into three inches of
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 157 
 
 water, and you may be sure I was frightened 
 and surprised. I aroused Balser, saying : 
 
 " The flood is upon us ! Hurry ! Hurry ! " 
 
 He drowsily rubbed his eyes. 
 
 What's the matter ? " he asked. " Do lie 
 down and let a fellow sleep. You prowl 
 about like a night owl." 
 
 For answer I drew him to the edge of the 
 bed and rolled him off into the cold water. 
 That opened his eyes, and maybe he wasn't 
 mad ! But I had no time to waste in wordy 
 explanations. 
 
 The fire was drowned out and the cabin 
 floor was all afloat. Balser quickly arose 
 from his early morning bath. Without a 
 word we each began to gather armloads of 
 provisions, guns, and utensils, and at once 
 started for the high ground. 
 
 The night was so dark that we could hardly 
 see our way, but we knew the path, and very 
 soon we had deposited our loads out of reach 
 of the water. Then we went back for another 
 load. Fortunately our belongings were few, 
 and the second trip saved all our valuables. 
 
 The rain was still falling in torrents and 
 the night seemed to grow blacker after each 
 flash of lightning. We placed all our perish-
 
 158 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 able goods under the shelter prepared for 
 the pelts, but we had no roof for ourselves. 
 We congratulated each other on our lucky 
 escape with the provisions, etc., and while we 
 were wondering if we had left anything in 
 the cabin, we were startled by a song a 
 complaining tearful wail from Solomon. 
 We had forgotten the poor wise one, and he 
 was grieved and hurt, as we could easily dis- 
 cover from the emotional tremor in his voice. 
 
 Without a word we both ran to Solomon's 
 rescue. When we reached his stable, we 
 found him standing knee-deep in water, the 
 picture of woe. I quickly haltered him and 
 led him out. He, of course, was justly pro- 
 voked; but when we reached the high ground, 
 Balser stroked his ears by way of apology 
 for our neglect, and the wise one's accus- 
 tomed good nature soon returned. 
 
 While Balser was stroking Solomon's ears, 
 I thought of the powder keg. 
 
 " Our powder ! " I cried. 
 
 Again we hurried back to the stable, but 
 the powder could not be found. We res- 
 cued Solomon's harness and collected a few 
 dozen ears of corn ; then we hurried back to 
 safety, for the water was rising rapidly.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 159 
 
 It must have been well toward morning 
 when we were aroused by the water, but we 
 thought the night would never end. If you 
 want to know just how long an hour is, stand 
 out in the pouring rain on a pitch black 
 night, and wait for the sun to come up. 
 Time flies for the happy man, drags for the 
 dull man, and dies for the one in trouble. 
 That night we thought that Time was dead 
 and buried ; but Time never really dies, and 
 after a weary while he lifted up the sun to 
 look upon two of the most uncomfortable 
 boys that ever fell under the luminary's gaze. 
 Toward noon the rain ceased and the sun 
 shone out with a barefaced effrontery that 
 would have made you think he was uncon- 
 scious of the fact that he had been shame- 
 fully lazy in rising. 
 
 We tried to build a fire, but everything, 
 including our tinder box, was wet, and we 
 had to content ourselves with a few raw po- 
 tatoes and a handful of uncooked meal for 
 breakfast and dinner. 
 
 " I wonder where the bear is," said Bal- 
 ser. 
 
 " Let's find her," I suggested. " The high 
 ground cannot be more than five acres
 
 160 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 in extent, and she is not far away with her 
 cubs." 
 
 We started out with our guns to find the 
 bear but not to kill her. The guns were 
 taken solely as a means of self-defence. We 
 were not long in finding the poor old brute. 
 She had concealed herself and the cubs as 
 best she could beneath the low-lying branches 
 of a haw tree, where she had made a cosey 
 nest of leaves and straw. When she saw us 
 she at once prepared for battle, but we re- 
 treated and left her unmolested. I believe 
 that kindness in sufficient quantities will 
 soften the heart of anything that breathes 
 the breath of life, and this poor old mother 
 bear was no exception to the rule. 
 
 During the next five days a wonderful 
 thing happened. Balser and I had grown to 
 love the rough old mother bear, and so 
 deeply did she interest us that we could not 
 keep away from her nest under the haw tree. 
 We had nothing to do but to watch her and 
 to eat raw potatoes and uncooked meal ; 
 therefore we went to visit our neighbor 
 many times in the day. Soon she ceased to 
 snarl and growl at us unless we went too 
 near. She seemed to have learned that we
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 161 
 
 meant no harm to her and her dear ones, and 
 after a time she did not run back to her nest 
 when she saw us approaching. 
 
 On the fourth day she came quite close to 
 where Balser and I were sitting under a rude 
 bark shed that we had constructed. She 
 was ploughing up the ground with her nose, 
 searching for roots, and paid no attention 
 to us. 
 
 For a time we had great difficulty in re- 
 straining Tige and Prince, but after a few 
 sound thrashings they learned good manners 
 and did not molest the bears. Another pe- 
 culiar thing happened. Tige and Prince 
 had been the best bear fighters I have ever 
 known, but after their acquaintance with the 
 old mother bear and her cubs, and after we 
 had thrashed them for attacking her, they 
 were of no use in bear hunting. Frequently 
 in after days we tried to make them attack 
 bears, but we never succeeded. 
 
 Seven long days did we remain on that 
 island. One morning I think it was the 
 eighth day we saw a large boat, of the 
 scow pattern, coming toward us. My father 
 and Balser's father were in the boat, and 
 you may be sure there were two happy boys
 
 162 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 dancing at the water's edge waiting for them. 
 They brought food and clothing, and I do 
 believe we would have killed ourselves eating 
 had our fathers not restrained us. 
 
 We were not long in climbing into the 
 boat and starting for home. We took our 
 guns and sleeping-bags, but we left the pelts 
 until the water should subside, when we would 
 come back to fetch them. 
 
 We started off without Solomon, knowing 
 that he would follow us. He protested vio- 
 lently, indignantly, against our desertion ; but 
 when he saw that we really intended to leave 
 him, he plunged into the water, and, after a 
 hard swim, landed safely on the opposite bank. 
 
 While we were waiting for Solomon, we 
 thought we saw the old mother bear swim- 
 ming down-stream with her cubs clinging to 
 her. I am not willing to vouch for the last 
 statement, for I am not sure, but I believe it 
 is true. An old bear hunter once told me 
 that he had seen a mother bear swimming a 
 small lake with a cub on her back. I don't 
 know that he told the truth, but I like to 
 believe stories of that sort, and I'm going to 
 believe all I hear. 
 
 We got the pelts later on and took them
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 1O3 
 
 to Cincinnati, where we sold them. I'll teK 
 you sometime about our wonderful trip to 
 Cincinnati, and about our adventure with 
 the robbers on the way home ; but I am sleepy 
 now, and the Sandman has been troubling 
 Mab for quite a while. 
 
 Tom Andy Bill stopped speaking, and 
 after a minute or two of silence, Mab said : 
 
 "Thank you, Uncle Tom Andy Bill, for 
 not killing the mother bear." 
 
 " You are welcome, Mab," said Uncle Tom, 
 laughing, and then, turning to us, he said, 
 " Good night all ! " 
 
 " Good night all ! " echoed Mab, clinging 
 sleepily to the favorite finger, as she went off 
 to the beautiful home of the Sandman in the 
 drowsy Land of Nod.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LOST IN THE CAVE 
 
 " Tell us some more about a mother bear 
 and her cubs," suggested Mab, next evening, 
 while the audience was waiting for Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill's story. 
 
 " I wish I could," he answered, " for I, too, 
 like mother bears. The one I told you 
 about is the only one I have ever known at 
 all intimately. They are very cautious while 
 raising their cubs, and usually make their 
 nests in secluded spots where they believe 
 they are safe from their mortal enemy. I 
 have heard it said that the father bear hunts 
 food for his family when the cubs are very 
 young, but I don't believe the story. The 
 father bear, in my opinion, is a very disrepu- 
 table personage, and so far as I have been 
 able to learn, looks out for ' number one ' and 
 lets his wife take care of herself and the 
 babies. 
 
 " A man from Kentucky once told me a 
 164
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 165 
 
 story about a mother bear and a father bear 
 that reflected no credit on the latter. I don't 
 vouch for the truth of the story, though I 
 believe it. I have heard many strange anec- 
 dotes concerning wild animals, and so many 
 wonderful manifestations of their intelligence 
 have come under my own personal observa- 
 tion that I believe nearly all I hear, for I 
 know that the beasts of the forest do more 
 thinking that goes straight to the point than 
 the average white man does. I don't, how- 
 ever, vouch for anything that I haven't seen, 
 but I don't want any one to doubt what I 
 say I have seen." 
 
 " What was the story of the man from 
 Kentucky ? " asked Mab. 
 
 " Oh, it wasn't much," said Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill. " It wasn't a story, it was a mere 
 incident. He said that one day he and his 
 wife had been to town and that when they 
 returned, and were approaching their cabin, 
 situated in a lonely part of the forest, they 
 heard a terrific squealing in his pig-pen. 
 He ran to the barnyard to learn the trouble. 
 He suspected that bears were after his shoat, 
 and he was right. 
 
 " A short distance from the pen were two
 
 166 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 bears and two cubs. The father bear was 
 cuffing his wife unmercifully in an endeavor 
 to make her climb the walls of the pig-pen 
 and bring out the one lone shoat it contained. 
 The shoat knew its danger and was squeal- 
 ing for dear life. The bears did not at first 
 see the man. 
 
 " After considerable coaxing and many 
 blows, the bear husband induced his wife to 
 go into the pen and get the shoat. Over 
 she went, and the pig squealed as it never 
 had squealed before. The man tried to 
 frighten the intruders away, but he had 
 loaned his gun to a neighbor, and the bears 
 were aware of the fact that is, the man 
 said they were aware of it. At any rate, they 
 saw he had no gun, and he said they told 
 him in grunts and growls to keep on his own 
 side of the fence. 
 
 " The man hated to lose his shoat, but 
 being deficient in courage, he did not molest 
 the bears. From a safe distance he saw the 
 she bear climb into the pen, seize the shoat 
 in her arms, and take it to her husband. 
 When she brought it to him, what do you 
 suppose he did ? " 
 
 " He kissed her," suggested Mab.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 167 
 
 " No," answered Uncle Tom Andy Bill. 
 " He knocked her over, took the shoat away 
 from her, went off by himself, and ate it to 
 the last bone, without giving his wife one 
 mouthful. It is something disgusting to 
 see how like a certain class of human beings 
 some animals can act. 
 
 " When the father bear had eaten the last 
 of the shoat, the disappointed old mother 
 bear went back to the pen and put her paws 
 on the top rail to see if, by any chance, she 
 had overlooked a shoat. Disappointed in 
 the matter of young pork, she deliberately 
 marched around the barnyard fence and ap- 
 proached the house with all the effrontery of 
 a tramp. 
 
 " I suppose the man must have been right 
 when he said that the bears knew the gun 
 was visiting. The mother bear nosed about 
 the house, poked her snout in at the kitchen 
 door, and then started out to look for the 
 milk-house with the hungry cubs toddling, 
 waddling, and squealing at her heels. 
 
 " The man's wife was frightened at first, 
 and, he said, she climbed a tree ; but when 
 she recovered her composure, she climbed 
 down from the tree, went to the house, took
 
 168 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 a shovelful of coals from the fireplace, and 
 followed Madame Bear and her family into 
 the milk-house. 
 
 " When the woman entered the milk-house 
 and saw the bear and cubs drinking her milk 
 and eating her butter, she was so angry that 
 she threw the shovelful of hot coals in the 
 bear's face, and so belabored it with her 
 shovel that the surprised intruder beat a 
 hasty retreat. But the woman's ' mad ' was 
 up, so she seized an axe, ran after the bear, 
 struck it a mighty blow on the head, and 
 the poor little cubs were motherless. 
 
 " After the woman had killed the mother 
 bear, she easily killed the cubs, and then 
 started out to hunt for the father bear. But 
 he had escaped to the woods and, doubtless, 
 told his friends how he had stolen a fine, fat 
 shoat right from under a farmer's nose. The 
 woman's husband went to town next day 
 and told his friends how 'we killed three 
 bears up at our house yesterday.' So you 
 see it isn't only a bear that sometimes acts 
 'human-like.' There are animals calling 
 themselves men that sometimes act 'bear- 
 like.' 
 
 " Reason ? Of course animals reason. I
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 169 
 
 once heard of a fox that walked backward a 
 quarter of a mile to throw his pursuers off 
 the track. I expected you to laugh at that 
 statement, but I believe the story. I have 
 known foxes to drag their brushes over their 
 tracks in the snow to obliterate them. Man 
 is a vain coxcomb to suppose that he does 
 all the thinking that is done in this world. 
 There was once a dog in Central Park, New 
 York City, that counted the sheep as they 
 entered the fold. I saw him do it. By a 
 little effort I believe that dog could have 
 been taught vulgar fractions." 
 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill silently puffed his 
 pipe, and the audience soon began to stir 
 nervously in their chairs, waiting for the 
 main show. After a few minutes, Mab, as 
 usual, lifted her soft, coaxing hand and 
 gently grasped the favorite finger. Even 
 that did not start the performance. The 
 gallery, consisting of the small boys, was 
 growing anxious, and little Die, hoping to 
 help matters along, asked : 
 
 " Did you ever get the pelts, Uncle Tom ? " 
 
 " Indeed we did get them. There was 
 
 nearly a wagon load of the finest fur that 
 
 was ever taken on Blue River. We sold it
 
 170 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 at Cincinnati, and well, I'll tell you about 
 it. I've been wondering what I could tell 
 you to-night, and that will make a fairly 
 good story. We had at least one stirring 
 adventure, and we brought back with us 
 we brought back with us a a girl. We 
 found her we found her and and " 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill stopped speaking. 
 His great eyes glowed tenderly on Mab. 
 He placed his hand lovingly on her head, 
 gazed dreamily into the fire, and after a long 
 pause, continued : 
 
 " We found her on our way home, and 
 after I tell you about our trip to Cincinnati 
 and our search for Wyandotte's cave, I will 
 tell you of the adventure that resulted in our 
 finding the girl." 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 After the corn was laid by that summer, 
 Balser and I took my father's team and 
 covered wagon, loaded in the pelts, and 
 started southeast on the famous Michigan 
 Road for Cincinnati. In addition to provi- 
 sions necessary for the journey, we had an 
 iron pot, a skillet, and a Dutch oven. The 
 latter was a very useful utensil. It was a
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 171 
 
 flat-bottomed round pot, eight inches in diam- 
 eter and five inches deep, resting on three 
 legs three inches high, and having a close- 
 fitting top. 
 
 When we wished to use the Dutch oven, 
 we heated it in the fire ; then we drew it 
 out and placed it over the hot ashes. Live 
 coals were collected near the oven to keep 
 it warm, but we were careful not to have the 
 coals too close, lest it become overheated 
 and burn the contents. We placed the corn 
 pone (or whatever article we wished to bake) 
 inside the oven, covered it with the top, and 
 soon the heat of the ashes and the coals 
 baked our supper for us beautifully. 
 
 We started from home on the last day of 
 July, and the weather being warm and 
 pleasant, we slept comfortably under the 
 wagon. There were many inns along the 
 road, but to stop at them would have re- 
 quired money, and we had very little of that. 
 We therefore camped out, and preferred our 
 bed on the ground to any that could be 
 found in a tavern. When it rained, we 
 spread our bearskins over the pelts inside the 
 wagon and slept there as dry as a powder- 
 horn.
 
 172 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 We had often heard of a band of robbers 
 that lived, it was said, north of the Michigan 
 Road in the heart of a great, forest-covered 
 swamp. It was rumored that the band con- 
 sisted of one family, and it was often hinted 
 that they were related to certain of the inn- 
 keepers along the road. No one knew much 
 about them, and those who knew anything 
 wanted to know less. 
 
 Once in a long while the plundering of a 
 wagon was reported, but the robbers usually 
 confined themselves to the gentle art of 
 horse stealing. It was supposed that they 
 sold their horses to dealers in Cincinnati 
 with whom the thieves were in league. 
 
 The exact locality of the robbers' home 
 had never been ascertained. Some claimed 
 that they lived within a few miles of Cin- 
 cinnati ; others said that their home was fifty 
 or sixty miles west of that city ; but all 
 agreed that it was in the midst of a dark 
 forest and was surrounded by a swamp im- 
 passable to all save those who knew the key 
 to the labyrinth leading to the robbers' abode. 
 
 As I have told you, certain taverns along 
 the road bore a bad reputation because of 
 their supposed connection with this robber
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 173 
 
 band. But no one could say with certainty 
 that he knew the reputation was deserved by 
 any one of the taverns until Balser and I 
 discovered one that, as we learnt without 
 question and to our sorrow, did deserve all 
 the evil that could be said of it. But this 
 occurred on our return journey from Cin- 
 cinnati, and I'll not tell you about it until its 
 turn comes. It was said that the family of 
 robbers bore the name of Wolf. Whatever 
 their names may have been, they were known 
 throughout the length of the Michigan Road 
 as " The Wolves," and beyond doubt they 
 deserved their name. 
 
 For two days and nights after Balser and 
 I started for Cincinnati, the weather was 
 fine. We left home before sun-up one morn- 
 ing and drove till eleven o'clock. At that 
 hour, the day being very hot, we halted in a 
 beautiful little grove of water elms that grew 
 beside a sparkling, spring-fed creek and 
 gave a shadowy coolness to its limpid pools. 
 
 We unhitched the horses, took off their 
 harness, watered them, and after they had 
 rolled over and over on the soft green sod, 
 we gave them their corn. When they had 
 eaten their dinner, we knee-haltered them
 
 174 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 and turned them out to graze. After Balser 
 and I had eaten our dinner we lay down in 
 the shade, and Balser said we kept each 
 other awake snoring. 
 
 We rested until the greatest heat of the 
 day was past ; then we hitched up and drove 
 along slowly through the dust and the sun- 
 shine till supper time. We did not unhitch 
 for supper, but hurried through the meal and 
 started on the road. 
 
 By ten o'clock we reached another creek, 
 and there we camped for the night, sleeping 
 in the open air under a rich elm canopy. 
 We were tired, and though ten o'clock was a 
 very late hour for us to be awake, we did not 
 go to sleep at once. After we had turned 
 in on our bed of sod, everything was so still 
 for a time that the air seemed fairly to buzz. 
 
 We were almost asleep when suddenly 
 there came from the branches of the tree 
 above us a booming, roaring, reverberating 
 " To-hoo, to-hoo, to-hoo ! " I sprang to my 
 feet, so frightened that my hair stood out 
 "like quills upon the fretful porcupine." 
 The doleful sounds came from an owl that 
 probably imagined it was singing. Previous 
 to that time I had supposed that no living
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 175 
 
 bird could emit so terrific a sound. Balser, 
 too, sprang up, frightened, and then we 
 laughed at each other till the tears came. 
 I threw a stone into the tree, and the owl 
 flew away. It did not go far, and soon again 
 it began to sing, keeping up the serenade at 
 intervals all night. 
 
 After a time the mournful notes of a whip- 
 poor-will came to us from the limbs of a 
 dead tree a short distance up-stream, and 
 now and then the voice of a wakeful turtle- 
 dove would come in its sad, cooing cadence 
 through the balmy, star-pierced blue of the 
 silence-laden night. Once in a while we 
 heard the " peep, peep, peep " of a drowsy 
 bird roosting in the branches above us, and 
 ever the fitful sighing of the wind, breathing 
 upon the leaves, set them whispering till we 
 fancied that the air was full of fairies and 
 the fairies full of song. But at last we went 
 to sleep. 
 
 After a few hours we awakened just before 
 the dawn. The night concert had ceased 
 and the silence could almost be felt. We 
 plunged into the creek for a bath, and just 
 as we emerged from the water the sun 
 shot his first messengers of gray over the
 
 176 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 t 
 eastern edge of the world. Then you should 
 have heard the morning concert break forth 
 like a band of a thousand pieces. 
 
 The owl and the whip-poor-will were 
 silent ; but, bless your souls ! you should have 
 heard the meadow lark trying to ruin his 
 voice on the high notes. You should have 
 heard dear old " Bob White " whistling for 
 dear life, evidently under the impression that 
 he was an animated fife. Robin Redbreast, 
 screaming for joy, probably thought he was 
 a cornet or a trombone. Redbird, too, tried 
 to burst his throat in his effort to convince 
 the world that he was a flute, but above all 
 came the marvellous voice of the conductor. 
 He played all the instruments from the fife 
 to the trombone, and so exquisite was his 
 music that the very sun himself seemed to 
 hasten forward to catch even the softest 
 notes of the mocking-bird. No man knows 
 how much happiness there is in the world 
 till he hears the birds of the wildwood sing 
 at dawn. 
 
 We travelled along for two or three days 
 without adventure, but, on the evening of the 
 third day, dark clouds began to gather in 
 the southwest. The day had been terribly
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 177 
 
 hot, and the air was so still that it seemed to 
 be dead, save for fitful gusts of wind that came 
 and went at times, like the flight of a bat. 
 
 " We'll have a terrible storm to-night," 
 said Balser, "and it will come up pretty 
 quickly. Let's halt and unhitch." 
 
 " I'm agreed," said I, and we drew rein in 
 the open, as far as possible from a tree. 
 Trees, it is said, draw lightning, and we 
 knew that the fireworks of heaven would 
 soon begin. 
 
 We hitched and fed the horses, then pre- 
 pared our bed inside the wagon. Near us 
 was a low-growing thorn bush covered with 
 a dense, tangled mass of wild grape vines. 
 At first we thought of sleeping under it, 
 but we changed our minds and concluded 
 to use it as a shelter for our fire. 
 
 Soon after we had eaten supper the wind 
 began to rise. The lightning in the black 
 clouds to the southwest played vividly, and 
 the thunder roared as if it were a genie try- 
 ing to frighten the earth. When the rain 
 began, we climbed into the wagon. For a 
 time we listened to the fierce patter on our 
 canvas wagon top, but sleep soon claimed 
 us, and for our ears the storm was still.
 
 178 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 In the middle of the night we were 
 awakened by the howling of wolves. Our 
 first thought was of the horses, so we seized 
 our guns, that hung just beneath the top of 
 the wagon, and climbed out into the storm. 
 The vine-covered thorn bush had protected 
 our fire from the rain, and the wind had 
 fanned the logs into a blaze. 
 
 When we climbed down from the wagon, 
 we saw a doe, with a fawn at her side, standing 
 panting between us and the fire, not five feet 
 from the horses. Three or four yards from 
 the wagon stood two wolves. By the light 
 of the fire we saw the dim outlines of their 
 forms, and at intervals we heard their half- 
 muttered growls. We also saw their eyes 
 gleaming with reflected light like red-hot 
 embers. The doe did not offer to run when 
 she saw us. She had brought her fawn to 
 us for protection against the wolves. 
 
 You may doubt this story, but long after 
 that night, Gordon Cumming, a great African 
 hunter, had the same experience with a fright- 
 ened eland, and tells of it in his wonderful 
 book. I lifted my gun and fired at the em- 
 ber-like eyes. One wolf dropped, and the 
 other quickly took himself off. The panting
 
 ' She had come ro its for proi hi ion "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 179 
 
 doe remained by the horses till morning, and 
 left us, bearing away with her, I hope, a bet- 
 ter opinion of mankind than she had ever 
 before enjoyed. 
 
 The next evening we reached Cincinnati, 
 but we did not enter the city until the follow- 
 ing morning, preferring to camp out and save 
 the cost of lodging and meals. 
 
 We went to the fur dealer to whom we 
 had been directed, and sold our furs for the 
 enormous sum of three hundred and forty 
 dollars. Being rich, we went to Longworth's 
 famous tavern and took a room. We had a 
 fine dinner at noon, and after we had eaten, 
 and had counted our gold at least twenty 
 times, we started out to see the city. 
 
 We purchased a few presents for the folks 
 at home, and after great deliberation, we each 
 bought a silver watch, costing us twenty 
 dollars apiece. That silver watch was the 
 most beautiful object I had ever possessed, 
 and with it in my pocket, I wanted to know 
 the time at least every three minutes. 
 
 After we had seen the sights of the city, we 
 went down to the Ohio River. There we 
 saw boats moored to the wharf, and learned 
 that some of them were about to start down-
 
 180 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 stream with their load of freight. We also 
 learned that these freight boats stopped at the 
 various settlements along the river, and that 
 bit of information put a thought into our 
 minds upon which we quickly acted. We 
 engaged passage on a keel boat that would 
 leave in an hour or two ; then we went back 
 to the tavern and wrote letters home to our 
 folks, telling them that we intended to go 
 down the river and might be away from home 
 several weeks. You may be sure we did not 
 mention Wyandotte's treasure, and the word 
 " cave " did not appear upon the pages of our 
 letters. 
 
 We paid our bill at the tavern, slung our 
 guns over our shoulder, left our money, 
 horses, and wagon in the care of the tavern 
 keeper, hurried down to the wharf, and went 
 aboard the boat, destined for the lower river 
 and, perchance, Wyandotte's cave. 
 
 The slow-going boat moved tediously from 
 town to town, and while the " hustlers " 
 pronounced " hoosier " by the negroes and 
 natives were unloading the freight at the 
 various settlements, Balser and I moved 
 about among the people, asking every one 
 we met if there was a cave in the vicinity.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 181 
 
 Many persons laughed at us, and one man 
 asked us if we were hunting treasure. His 
 remark disgusted us. Our inquiries failed to 
 elicit any information of a cave ; and after a 
 long, tedious trip, we reached the city of 
 Louisville, but, so far as we knew, we were 
 no nearer Wyandotte's cave than when we 
 left home. 
 
 We seemed so far away from Cincinnati 
 that we felt like returning ; but after discuss- 
 ing the matter, we concluded to take another 
 boat and go still farther down the river for 
 four days' journey. If, at the end of that time, 
 we learned nothing of a cave, we would make 
 our way back to Cincinnati, and would at 
 least have had the pleasure of the river voyage. 
 
 After leaving Louisville our boat stopped 
 at several settlements, but we heard no en- 
 couraging news until one day we drew up at 
 a little nest of houses on the north side of the 
 river, thirty or forty miles below Louisville. 
 We had asked so many questions about caves 
 that we had grown to expect a negative an- 
 swer ; but at the settlement of which I have 
 just spoken, we were told that there was a 
 large cave six or eight miles to the north and 
 east.
 
 i82 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 We were almost overcome by sudden and 
 unexpected joy, and hurried back to the boat 
 to fetch our guns. 
 
 We remained at the settlement a day or 
 two before we found any one who could direct 
 us to the cave ; but we finally discovered an 
 old man who told us to go north till we came 
 to a creek, and to follow it for six or seven 
 miles till we reached the third house on the 
 south side of the creek. We would then be 
 in the neighborhood of the cave, he said, and 
 would be able to learn its exact location. He 
 had never been there, but he had heard from 
 others that the creek was three or four miles 
 north of the Ohio River, and that the cave was 
 six or seven miles to the east. 
 
 Balser and I bought provisions sufficient 
 to last us two weeks, shouldered our guns, and 
 started out to hunt for Wyandotte's cave, 
 having not the shadow of a doubt in our minds 
 that we would find it. 
 
 We started out one morning early, and after 
 climbing over several very impracticable hills, 
 reached the creek and then turned east- 
 ward, following its winding course. After 
 many hours' hard work, we came to the third 
 cabin on the south side of the creek. We
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 183 
 
 entered and asked the usual questions con- 
 cerning the cave. We had propounded them 
 so often that we knew them by rote and spoke 
 them parrot-like. 
 
 A woman at the house told us to go south, 
 to cross two hills and two ravines, and upon 
 the north side of the third hill, she said, she 
 thought we would find a cave. She was not 
 sure a cave was there, but she had been told 
 that runaway negroes from Kentucky some- 
 times hid in a cave that was said to be in the 
 heart of the hill. She told us they called it 
 " Nigger Hill." 
 
 The woman invited us to stay for dinner, 
 and while we were eating she asked us why 
 we wanted to see the cave. I thought she 
 could not fail to see the word "treasure" 
 written on my face. Balser, who was much 
 quicker of wit than I, spoke up briskly and 
 said : 
 
 " We heard that runaway slaves sometimes 
 hide in a cave about here, and we have been 
 sent to get its exact location." 
 
 " Then I am sorry I told you where it is," 
 said the woman, " for I pity the poor slaves." 
 
 "Oh, so do we," returned Balser, hurriedly ; 
 " we would help them if we could."
 
 184 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " You'd better not let any one hereabouts 
 hear you say that you would help a run- 
 away slave," suggested the woman. "You 
 would be tarred and feathered." 
 
 " Oh, we wouldn't help them," said Balser, 
 floundering about in his effort to correct his 
 mistake. " You see it's this way. We we 
 well, you know we're sorry, and the people 
 who sent us here are just curious to know 
 what the cave is like, that's all." 
 
 After dinner we started south for three 
 hills and two ravines. Over one hill we 
 climbed and down into ravine number one. 
 Up hill number two, down ravine number 
 two, and then we looked up the rocky side of 
 hill number three. 
 
 " If there isn't a cave in that hill," said I, 
 " there ought to be." 
 
 " If there isn't one there," answered Balser, 
 " there isn't a cave any place. What a barren 
 pile of gray, forbidding rocks it is. Tom 
 Andy Bill, we're at Wyandotte's cave just as 
 sure as you live." 
 
 " I hope you're right," said I ; " I wish you 
 could feel my heart beating." 
 
 "Just feel this," said Balser, placing my 
 hand over his heart.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 185 
 
 " Shades of Columbus, sit down, Balser ! 
 Your heart's going to burst ! " 
 
 Excited ? Well, you should have seen us ! 
 We were trembling as if with fear. There 
 didn't seem to be enough atmosphere in all 
 the country around to fill the requirements 
 of my lungs. We could feel the soft, oily 
 gold trickling through our fingers, and I 
 almost felt like reaching out my hand and 
 picking up one of the five treasure chests. 
 
 We had received seventeen beautiful double 
 eagles for our furs at Cincinnati, and had 
 counted them over and over in our room at 
 Longworth's tavern until I believe I should 
 have recognized any one of them a hundred 
 miles away from home. In fondling the 
 double eagles, we had learned to know the 
 " feel " of gold ; but what a pitiful sum three 
 hundred and forty dollars was compared to 
 the treasure that awaited us in the heart of 
 the stony hill. 
 
 " I feel sorry for myself," said Balser, " when 
 I think of how large that little pile of gold 
 looked to us." 
 
 "Dorit you ? " I answered. " Let us give it 
 to the poor." 
 
 You see I was getting to feel rich. My
 
 186 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 dreams were becoming real, and I felt that 
 the treasury at Washington was poverty- 
 stricken compared to myself. 
 
 Balser laughed and said, " Perhaps we had 
 better keep the Cincinnati gold until we find 
 the treasure and get it home." 
 
 " All right," said I ; " here goes for the 
 cave and Wyandotte's chests." 
 
 We pretended to laugh at ourselves, but 
 the truth is, we knew that the treasure would 
 soon be ours. We bent our backs and started 
 up the rocky hill, each bearing his sack of 
 provisions slung over his shoulder. When 
 we got halfway up the hill, we halted at an 
 overhanging rock. 
 
 " Here is a fine place to make our camp," 
 I suggested. " We can build our fire under 
 the south end of the rock and make our beds 
 under the north end, where we'll be safe from 
 sun, wind, or rain." 
 
 " It's the very place," said Balser. " We'll 
 gather a lot of rocks and build a little wall 
 reaching from the ground to the overhanging 
 rock, and we will have as cosey a home as 
 one could want." 
 
 The top of the hill was covered with trees 
 and we felt sure we should be able to gather
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 187 
 
 material for firewood and torches. We de- 
 posited our bags of provisions under the rock, 
 and Balser was for starting out at once in 
 search of the cave. I insisted upon building 
 the walls of our house first, but he wisely sug- 
 gested that we might find the cave that very 
 afternoon, and in that case, we could move 
 in and save ourselves the work of building 
 the wall. 
 
 It was four or five o'clock when we started 
 out with beating hearts to find the cave. I 
 was so sure of finding it at once that I 
 watched carefully where I stepped, for fear, 
 I suppose, of falling into it. 
 
 We prowled about, examining every nook 
 and corner among the rocks, till after six 
 o'clock. Then we went to the hilltop and 
 each took an armful of wood down to our new 
 home under the hanging rock. The weather 
 was warm, so we postponed our wall build- 
 ing till the morrow, lay down under the rock, 
 and went to sleep. 
 
 During the next five or six days we tramped 
 over the hillside in the blazing sun, working 
 fifteen or sixteen hours a day, but we found 
 no cave. By noon of the seventh day, we 
 felt that every rock in the hillside had been
 
 188 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 examined, and our hearts were heavy with 
 disappointment, for we were ready to be 
 sworn that no cave existed on that hilL Our 
 seventeen double eagles at Cincinnati grad- 
 ually rose to par, and when we had despaired 
 of rinding the cave, they increased in value 
 till they once more looked like a fortune. 
 We concluded that we would not give them 
 to the poor yet. 
 
 After eating dinner on the day we gave up 
 our search, we sat for a while under the 
 rock, anxious yet loath to leave. Our fire 
 was built under the south end of the rock, 
 perhaps fifteen feet from where we were sit- 
 ting. Almost unconscious of what I was 
 doing, I threw several light pieces of wood 
 on the fire, and soon a great blaze sprang up. 
 
 I have before remarked upon the wonderful 
 potency of little things, and that act of mine 
 in carelessly tossing the wood upon the fire is 
 another marked illustration of what I mean. 
 
 We were sitting watching the fire when 
 Balser, for lack of anything else to say, re- 
 marked carelessly : 
 
 " I wonder what makes that fire suck in 
 toward the wall." 
 
 " Probably the wind blows it," I suggested.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL i8g 
 
 " But there's not a breath of wind," said 
 Balser. 
 
 I stepped outside to test the wind. There 
 was not enough to flutter a maple leaf. Still 
 the leaping flames bent toward the inner wall 
 of our house as if they were sucked in that 
 direction by a draught. The effect was so 
 pronounced that we began to look around 
 for an opening in the rock. We had never 
 thought to examine our own house for the 
 cave. At the extreme south end of our 
 overhanging rock, near the fire, was a large 
 boulder that we supposed formed the end 
 of the little open cavern in which we dwelt. 
 It was toward that boulder the flames were 
 drawn, and Balser and I made a dash for it. 
 Just beyond the boulder, plain as an open 
 door, was the entrance to a cave. 
 
 " Well, I am a fool," said Balser. 
 
 " I guess you're right," I answered, " but 
 what am I ? " 
 
 " The same," said Balser ; " and I wish 
 mother didn't object to swearing." 
 
 " Amen," answered I. " Here we have 
 been prowling about this hill in the hot sun 
 for nearly seven days, hunting for something 
 that was right under our noses."
 
 190 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " That happens to many a man," said Bal 
 ser. u We needn't worry about the work we 
 have done. Let us go into the cave." 
 
 We stooped low and entered. Within ten 
 feet of the opening we passed into a high- 
 vaulted, dimly lighted chamber. We waited 
 for our eyes to become accustomed to the 
 gloom, and then we proceeded to look about. 
 
 " By George ! " whispered Balser, as if he 
 were afraid that some one might hear him ; 
 "this room is just as Wyandotte described 
 it." 
 
 " It is, indeed," I answered ; "I do be- 
 lieve we have stumbled into the god's home. 
 Isn't it the most marvellous thing that ever 
 happened ? " 
 
 When we could distinctly see objects 
 about us, we began our search for the 
 treasure, but the floor was of unbroken 
 rock and the side walls were smooth. Ten 
 minutes' work convinced us that there was 
 no treasure in that cave. 
 
 We had noticed a small opening in the 
 back of the chamber, and we felt sure it led 
 to the main cavern or caverns, since Wyan- 
 dotte had said there were many chambers 
 and corridors. 

 
 IS WYANDM-ITJ DKSCKIHKO II '!' WHISPERED BaLSKR "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 191 
 
 We remembered what he had told us 
 about the danger of getting lost, but we 
 classed that with the wolves and the guar- 
 dian demons, and gave no heed to his warn- 
 ing. The second opening was too low for 
 us to pass through even by stooping. We 
 examined it and found that the floor con- 
 sisted of a flat rock inclining downward at 
 a very steep angle. 
 
 We did not stop to consider that Wyan- 
 dotte might have been wrong in his descrip- 
 tion of the cave, or that the cave we were in 
 might not have been the one he described. 
 For all we knew, there might have been a 
 bottomless pit at the end of the little chute; 
 but we were intoxicated with our dreams of 
 gold, and took no thought of possible danger 
 ahead. 
 
 I looked down the slanting passageway, 
 but I could see nothing but darkness. The 
 fact that I did not know where I was going 
 to land did not deter me. I put my feet 
 into the narrow chute, lay down on my back, 
 and worked myself forward. 
 
 The inclining rock was covered with mois- 
 ture, and was so "slick " that I started down 
 at a much greater speed than I had antici-
 
 192 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 pated. When it was too late, I began to won- 
 der where I was going to land, and visions of 
 a bottomless pit, broken bones, and a linger- 
 ing death flashed through my mind. They 
 were, however, soon dispelled, for in' less 
 than three seconds I had accomplished my 
 descent, and found myself sitting safely in 
 a little pool of very cold water at the foot 
 of the incline. I felt about me with my 
 hands and discovered a solid rock floor 
 similar to that of the first cavern. 
 
 " Hello, Tom Andy Bill ! " shouted Balser. 
 
 I answered back, " All right ! Come on ! " 
 and the next instant Balser was sitting in 
 the cold water. 
 
 The second cavern was much darker than 
 the first, but a faint stream of light entered 
 through the narrow chute, and in a little 
 while we could dimly see objects close to us. 
 
 " We'll have to have torches to examine 
 this cave," said I. " We can't see anything 
 in this Egyptian darkness." 
 
 " If we prowl about without a light," said 
 Balser, " we're apt to find ourselves at the 
 bottom of a hole and stay there. Let's go 
 out and get torches before going further." 
 
 I started to climb back over the slick in-
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 193 
 
 cline, and although it was not over fifteen 
 feet from the bottom to the top, I failed to 
 make it. If I made a little headway, I im- 
 mediately slipped back. At first we laughed, 
 and Balser tried the ascent ; but after we had 
 each failed many times, we began to be 
 frightened. The incline was much steeper 
 than we had supposed it to be. 
 
 We struggled frantically in our effort to 
 climb out, and soon we were almost ex- 
 hausted by excitement, fear, and exertion. 
 Trembling and drenched with perspiration, 
 we stood at the foot of the incline, and in 
 our hearts we cursed the treasure that had 
 led us into this trouble. For a time we could 
 hardly speak. The obstacle to be overcome 
 was so small, but the task of overcoming it 
 was so great, that we were in despair. The 
 thought of dying there, fifteen feet from light 
 and life, was maddening. 
 
 Suddenly Balser began to laugh and I 
 thought he was going mad. I took his hand 
 to comfort him, and he said : 
 
 "Tom Andy Bill, I s'pose that two such 
 fools as you and I are were never before 
 turned loose upon the world." 
 
 " I hope you're right," said I ; "it would
 
 194 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 be a terrible infliction on the world if there 
 were many like us, for we certainly were 
 great fools to get ourselves into this scrape." 
 
 Balser laughed again and said : " Nonsense, 
 Tom Andy Bill, we're all right. We'll be 
 out of here in a minute. Listen to my plan. 
 I say we are fools because we had not thought 
 of it before. It is not more than twelve or 
 fifteen feet to the top of this inclined rock. 
 I'll start up. You push my feet till I get a 
 hold on the dry rock above. Then I'll turn 
 around, head down, and pull you out." 
 
 " Good," said I. " Balser, you're no fool, 
 whatever I am. I should have rotted here 
 before thinking of your plan." 
 
 Our spirits went up at once, and we ceased 
 to find any fault with the treasure for having 
 brought us to the cave. 
 
 Balser stretched himself in the chute, and 
 I, bracing my feet upon the floor below, 
 pushed him upward. All went well for a 
 time, and we thought we should soon be 
 out of our difficulty ; but when we were both 
 stretched at full length upon the slippery 
 inclined rock, we stopped in our ascent. 
 Balser could not reach the dry rock at the 
 top, therefore he could not draw himself up.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 19s 
 
 After a terrific struggle of five minutes, 
 I could hold him no longer. I took my 
 hands from his feet, and we both slid back 
 into the pool of water. Then we were 
 in trouble. I would have given anything 
 to be a girl for five minutes; I wanted to 
 cry. 
 
 We were so tired that we stepped back 
 from the mouth of the chute, feeling our way 
 cautiously as we went, and sat down on the 
 dry rock floor a short distance away from the 
 pool of water. After sitting there for a few 
 minutes, I happened to place my hand on 
 the floor and found that it was covered with 
 a fine gritty sand. Then it was that /con- 
 ceived a brilliant idea. 
 
 " There's sand on the floor, Balser," said I. 
 
 " Yes," he answered dolefully ; " I don't 
 care if it's gold-dust. What I want is to 
 get out of this awful place ; and if I once 
 get out, I wouldn't come back for all the 
 wealth of the world." 
 
 "The sand is more valuable to us than 
 gold-dust," I said. " We'll sprinkle it over 
 the slippery rock, and then we'll be able to 
 go up easily enough." 
 
 No sooner had I spoken than Balser was
 
 196 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 filling his cap with the sand. I did likewise, 
 but when we began to toss it on the rock, I 
 suggested : 
 
 " Let us try to wipe some of the moisture 
 from the rock, and then we'll sprinkle on the 
 sand." 
 
 I took off my jacket and proceeded to dry 
 the rock with it as well as I could, and then 
 we sprinkled it with sand. After that we 
 easily climbed out, as thankful a pair of boys 
 as lived in all the world. 
 
 We hurried to the outer opening, and al- 
 though the sunlight almost blinded us, it 
 looked so sweet, tasted so sweet, and smelled 
 so sweet that we wanted to hug it to our 
 breasts and kiss it. 
 
 " No more gold for me," said Balser. 
 
 " Nor for me," I answered. " I don't want 
 anything better than pelts. I'm going home, 
 and any man that wants the treasure may 
 have it if he can get it." 
 
 We were very tired, and Balser looked as 
 though he had been through an attack of 
 sickness. After resting awhile, we built a 
 fire and ate our supper. 
 
 We did not care to start back home at 
 nightfall, so we concluded to sleep under the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 197 
 
 rock one more night and make an early start 
 in the morning. 
 
 When we turned in, I got to thinking of 
 home and soon became so homesick that I 
 wanted to cry. 
 
 After two or three efforts to speak, I said, 
 " I wonder what mother is doing at home." 
 
 "Oh, don't!" cried Balser. "I'd give 
 Wyandotte's treasure, if I had it right now, 
 to see mother. Oh! wouldn't I just kiss 
 her?" 
 
 Despite my efforts, tears began to come to 
 my eyes, and I tried to whistle. I might as 
 well- have tried to thunder. 
 
 " I don't care who knows I want to cry," 
 sobbed Balser. 
 
 " Neither do I," I replied, and after that I 
 suppose we both shed a few tears and were 
 very much comforted. Women don't know 
 what a luxurious privilege they enjoy. Our 
 nerves were overwrought by the terrible expe- 
 rience we had undergone, and we had never 
 before been so long, or so far, away from home. 
 Our nervous condition made the homesick- 
 ness all the harder to bear ; but the boy of 
 sixteen who cannot cry because he wants to 
 see his mother is lacking in the stuff that 

 
 198 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 goes to make the right kind of a man. 
 Sleep soon overcame us, and by morning we 
 were feeling much better. 
 
 While we were eating breakfast, Balser 
 remarked : 
 
 " It does seem a shame, Tom Andy Bill, to 
 go away without that gold when we almost 
 have it in our hands. We are over the 
 worst of the difficulties. We have solved 
 the problem of the chute. But I have a 
 plan that will make the ascent of that slip- 
 pery rock as simple as a, b, c. We'll cut a 
 pole eighteen or twenty feet long, and by the 
 help of the pole we can climb in and out 
 without any trouble." 
 
 I was delighted with the suggestion, and 
 we at once went to the top of the hill with 
 our hatchet, where we felled a small tree 
 that answered our purpose. First I tried 
 the descent of the chute and, by the help of 
 the pole, easily climbed out. That problem 
 settled, we prepared torches and started for 
 the treasure in real earnest. 
 
 After we had passed the chute, we lighted 
 our torches from fire we had taken in with 
 us and illumined the entire chamber. All 
 that day we spent in examining the cave, but
 
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 199 
 
 no sign of a possible hiding place for the 
 treasure chests could be found. The next 
 day we found other chambers of the cavern 
 and carefully examined them. 
 
 Toward the end of the second day's search 
 we discovered a passageway leading to a 
 very large cavern. When we entered it, we 
 could not see the ceiling by the light of our 
 torches, but we could distinctly see the lower 
 ends of great hanging pillars, called stalactites, 
 that hung down to within fifteen or twenty 
 feet of the floor. Springing from the floor 
 to meet these hanging columns were others 
 varying in height from two to fifteen feet. 
 It was all like a scene from fairyland, for the 
 rock was of white crystal, and glistened like 
 millions of diamonds in the light of our 
 torches. 
 
 Leading from and through this marvellous 
 chamber were many corridors that wound in 
 and out among the columns like the paths 
 of a labyrinth. Frequently we thought we 
 were lost, and for fear that catastrophe might 
 happen, we blazed our path by smoking the 
 rocks with our torches, so that we should be 
 able to find our way out again. 
 
 After we had admired the wonderful scene,
 
 200 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 we began a careful examination of the cham- 
 ber and of all the corridors and caves open- 
 ing into it. Not a square foot of floor did 
 we leave unexamined ; not a spot where the 
 treasure could possibly be hidden did we fail 
 to investigate. We found no openings nor 
 chamber other than those we had entered and 
 inspected, and after a hard day's work we 
 gave up the search. Balser looked at his 
 watch and said it was five o'clock. 
 
 " There's no treasure here," said he, regret- 
 fully, "but I am glad we came. We have 
 been rewarded for our trouble by the sight 
 of this wonderful cave." 
 
 " I believe we have examined every square 
 foot of it," I answered. " There are no more 
 caves to be conquered. I think there is not 
 a spot in all these rooms that we have not 
 gone over a dozen times. This is not Wyan- 
 dotte's cave, or he lied about the treasure. 
 The old fellow was drunk when he told us 
 the story." 
 
 " I don't believe it is his cave," said Balser. 
 " We'll find the right cave one of these days, 
 and we'll get the treasure, Tom Andy Bill, 
 just as sure as my name is Balser." 
 
 " Well," said I, for perhaps the hundredth
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 201 
 
 time, " I hope you're right, but we have no 
 more business here, so let us get out and go 
 home." 
 
 We took up our smoke trail and had no 
 difficulty in finding our way back to the exit 
 from the room we had christened " The Mar- 
 ble Chamber." Just as we stooped to pass 
 under the low arch of the doorway, we heard 
 back of us, in the darkness, a whirring noise 
 not unlike that made by a strong wind blow- 
 ing through a leafless forest. The noise in- 
 creased rapidly and was most uncanny in its 
 effect. It frightened us, but before we could 
 learn the cause, we were struck from behind 
 as if by a shower of small stones. Our 
 torches were dashed from our hands and we 
 were thrown to the ground. Our lights were 
 instantly extinguished, and the noise contin- 
 ued for perhaps thirty seconds. 
 
 After it had ceased and as we lay upon the 
 floor of the cavern, Balser said : 
 
 " Bats ! I saw them by thousands cling- 
 ing to the roofs and walls of the cave." 
 
 He was right. Thousands of bats congre- 
 gated in the cave during the daylight and 
 flew out in great flocks when evening ap- 
 proached. The explanation was simple
 
 202 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 enough, but the result was far from simple 
 for Balser and me. For the first time in my 
 life I realized what total darkness meant. 
 
 We sat where we had fallen, and every few 
 minutes the whirring noise passed over us. 
 It seemed that we had suddenly dropped 
 from heaven into a terrible inferno. After a 
 short time the noise ceased, and we knew 
 that the bats had all gone out for the night. 
 We supposed that it was dark outside. We 
 rose to our feet and began to grope around 
 to find, if possible, the passageway leading 
 out. Of course our smoke trail was of no 
 use to us in the dark. Life of me, how black 
 it was ! 
 
 We could not find the outgoing corridor. 
 Several times we thought we had found it, 
 but we invariably came up against a stone 
 wall. We had been in great trouble at the 
 lower end of the slippery chute, but now 
 we were in utter despair. Our heads got 
 many a hard bump, and we learned the les- 
 son to " make haste slowly." We kept a 
 firm grasp on each other's hands, for had we 
 become separated we might not have been 
 able to get together again. The reverberat- 
 ing echoes of our voices were misleading, and
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 203 
 
 we should have had little chance of finding 
 each other by calling out, were we once parted. 
 
 I gripped Balser's hand so hard that he 
 cried out in pain, but you never saw two 
 boys stick closer together than we did in the 
 black heart of that awful rock. If we must 
 die, we would die together, and I tell you, it 
 looked very much as though that fate were 
 in store for us. 
 
 After bruising ourselves in every bone and 
 muscle, we gave up the fruitless search, sat 
 down on the floor to rest, and tried to com- 
 pose ourselves. We had been in the cave 
 a long while and were very tired. 
 
 " How long do you suppose we have been 
 here since the torches went out? " asked Bal- 
 ser. 
 
 " I'm blest if I know," I answered, "but it 
 has surely been eight or ten hours. Perhaps 
 it has been more." 
 
 We lay down and tried to sleep. I remem- 
 ber that we lay very close together, and while 
 we were trying to go to sleep, Balser said : 
 
 " You won't leave me, will you, Tom Andy 
 Bill?" 
 
 And I said, " No, and you won't leave me, 
 will you, Balser ? "
 
 204 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 He grasped my hand in answer, and shut- 
 ting our eyes we again tried to sleep. We 
 lay on the floor for a long while, but sleep 
 would not come to us. We had no way of 
 knowing the time, but we supposed that we 
 had rested several hours when the whirring 
 noise that had preceded and accompanied 
 our trouble again approached. 
 
 "Just think of it, Tom Andy Bill," said 
 Balser, "the bats are going out again. It 
 is twenty-four hours since they knocked us 
 down. It seems like a month. I'm almost 
 choked with thirst, and I'm so hungry that 
 I'm weak." 
 
 I will not try to describe the horror of that 
 time. All the suffering of my life cannot be 
 compared with what I endured in the cave. 
 
 " My legs are cramped, and I am going to 
 move about," said Balser. 
 
 Then we got up and groped about the 
 cavern for exercise. We had lost nearly all 
 hope. After wandering about the chamber 
 for a long time, we lay down again, and 
 finally sleep came from sheer exhaustion. Of 
 course we did not know how long we slept, 
 but on awakening, we again heard the whir- 
 ring noise over our heads.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 205 
 
 " Good Lord ! The bats are going out 
 again for the night ! " said Balser. " We have 
 been here forty-eight hours. At first I was 
 afraid we would die, but now I am afraid we 
 will noC 
 
 Again we rose and groped our way about 
 the room. After what seemed a long while, 
 we rested again, and after a weary waiting 
 we once more heard the whirring noise. We 
 had lost all trace of time, but judging by the 
 flight of the bats, we supposed that we had 
 passed three days in the cave. 
 
 We felt so weak for lack of food and sleep 
 that we could hardly walk. At periods of 
 every few hours, as we supposed, we moved 
 about in the darkness for exercise. 
 
 At last, in one of these hopeless wander- 
 ings, we suddenly caught a faint glimmer of 
 light. Ah, the joy of it! In five minutes' 
 time we were climbing through the slippery 
 chute, and within two minutes more we were 
 out in the glad daylight. The gloaming was 
 just turning to night, but compared to the 
 darkness of the cave, we felt as if we were 
 looking into the full glare of the midday sun. 
 
 " I must have water," said Balser, who was 
 hoarse from weakness and thirst.
 
 206 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 While he was drinking I mechanically 
 drew out my watch and looked at it. 
 
 "Say, Balser, my watch is still running," 
 said I, "and I haven't wound it since we 
 went into the cave." 
 
 He drew his watch from his pocket and 
 said : " So is mine. Surely it could not have 
 kept going for three days, and I didn't once 
 think of it in the cave." 
 
 Then we looked at each other and began 
 to laugh, for it was only seven o'clock, and 
 we had been lost in the cave just two hours. 
 I wasn't nearly as hungry or thirsty or weak 
 when I found how we had been fooled re- 
 garding the time spent in the cave. 
 
 " I was actually so weak from hunger and 
 thirst," said Balser, "that I could hardly 
 stand alone." 
 
 " Don't say a word," said I. 
 
 Well, we were mighty glad to get out, 
 but two boys more thoroughly disgusted 
 with themselves than Balser Brent and Tom 
 Andy Bill Addison didn't live at that par- 
 ticular moment on the face of the earth. 
 
 We had no hope of finding Wyandotte's 
 treasure in that cave, so we left next morn- 
 ing and made our way back to Cincinnati,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 207 
 
 where we arrived in due time, wiser if not 
 richer boys than when we left. 
 
 " I'll tell you about the trip home to-mor- 
 row evening if I don't go to church," said 
 Uncle Tom Andy Bill. 
 
 "You'll tell us, too, about the girl you 
 found, won't you ? " asked Mab. 
 
 " Yes, I'll tell you about her, too."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE ROBBERS IN THE SWAMP 
 
 Next evening Mab settled herself down 
 very close to our story-teller and said : 
 
 " Well, Uncle Tom, I'm glad you didn't 
 go to church to-night, but I hope no one 
 will knock you down for not going." 
 
 A murmur of laughter started over the 
 audience, but Uncle Tom Andy Bill raised 
 his hand warningly, and it was smothered. 
 No one should laugh at Mab when she was 
 in earnest. The baby girl had a keen sense 
 of humor, but it never found expression save 
 in words that were literally true. Neither did 
 she expect anything but the exact truth from 
 others. The result was that Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill and a great many very good and 
 discerning persons worshipped at her little 
 shrine. After she had settled herself in her 
 tiny chair, and had spread her little skirts 
 contentedly, she looked up to Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill and said : 
 
 208
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 209 
 
 " Now." That word was the tinkling bell 
 that raised the curtain, and Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill began. 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 The morning after Balser and I reached 
 Cincinnati we received our money in a 
 canvas shot-bag from the tavern keeper, 
 placed it in a flour-sack along with the pres- 
 ents for the folks at home, hitched up the 
 horses, and started for Blue River. The 
 wagon was light, and the horses having had 
 a long rest in the stable, we travelled home- 
 ward at a brisk rate. 
 
 No adventure befell us until the second 
 evening, when we were about halfway home. 
 At the rate we travelled, we should have 
 been home on the evening of the second 
 day, and should have missed the adventure, 
 the results of which have affected my life 
 even down to this present moment, had we not 
 stopped at a little town called Napoleon to 
 witness a circus performance. But we did 
 stop, and that small incident, as I have told 
 you, has colored my whole life. 
 
 The circus threw us one day behind, and 
 at the end of the second day we drew up in a
 
 2io UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 drizzling rain in front of an old, rambling, two- 
 story brick house that looked as if it had been 
 deserted by mankind and appropriated by a 
 family of ghosts. Thinking the house was 
 unoccupied, we concluded to camp in it for 
 the night; but after looking at it for a moment, 
 it seemed so lonesome and " haunted like " 
 that we were about to drive on, when an old 
 woman came to the door and said : 
 
 " 'Light, strangers. 'Light and come in ! 
 You're very welcome, and it's going to be a 
 bad night. It's ten miles to the nearest 
 house." 
 
 " Let us go in and stay for the night," sug- 
 gested Balser. 
 
 " I'm agreed," said I, so we stopped. 
 
 While we were unhitching the horses, a 
 young girl perhaps fourteen years old came 
 out and proceeded to help us. Balser and I 
 gazed at her in wonder. Despite the coarse 
 rags that served her as clothing, despite her 
 unwashed face and unkempt hair, she was 
 beautiful beyond description. Her hair was 
 like a black sunlit cloud tossed by the caress- 
 ing wind. Her great violet eyes, fringed by 
 long black lashes and arched by pencilled eye- 
 brows, fairly shone with the lustre of health
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 211 
 
 and the glow of her soul. Her exquisite face, 
 with its dark, rosy complexion, was of a type 
 frequently met with under the blue skies of 
 Italy, but seldom found in this cold clime. 
 
 When the horses were unhitched, the girl 
 led one of them to the stable, and I followed, 
 leading the other. 
 
 " Put your horse in that stall," she said, 
 " and I'll put this one here." 
 
 I answered like a yokel, " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Shall I give them corn ? " she asked, and 
 again I said, " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " They'll want water, I suppose," she sug- 
 gested. Again I responded brilliantly, " Yes, 
 ma'am." 
 
 " There's a bucket just outside the door 
 and the pump is at the end of the barn. You 
 get the water and I'll get the corn. Six ears 
 apiece ? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," said I. 
 
 When I returned with the water, she was 
 waiting to feed the horses. While they were 
 drinking I stood by her side, trying very hard 
 to think of something to say, but I failed, and 
 grew more and more embarrassed as the silence 
 continued. The girl was as composed as the 
 horses. After a long silence, she said :
 
 212 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " You needn't call me ma'am. I'm just 
 Mab." She smiled, and Tom Andy Bill, 
 though very young, got his life sentence then 
 and there. 
 
 The girl and I talked for a while at the 
 barn. We didn't say much, but little as it 
 was, I don't intend to tell you about it. She 
 had the knack of making others feel easy in 
 her presence, and by the time we got to the 
 house, I had told her my name and the names 
 of all my relatives, where I lived, where we 
 had been, and all I knew that my con- 
 fusion would permit me to recall. In fact, we 
 were quite well acquainted. 
 
 When we entered the house, we found, 
 besides the old woman, an old man and two 
 other men who might have been any age from 
 forty to sixty. The old woman offered chairs 
 and Balser and I sat down. The old man 
 said " Howdy ? " but the other men arose and 
 left the room without speaking. 
 
 Soon after the two men had left, the old 
 man turned to me and said : 
 
 " B'en to Cincinnati, have ye ? " 
 
 " Yes," I answered. 
 
 " Like as not ye took a load o' furs down 
 about four weeks ago."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 213 
 
 I assented, and the old man continued : 
 
 " Seed ye drive by and 'lowed ye'd be back 
 by and by." 
 
 We did not answer, and after a brief silence 
 the old man again commenced his catechism : 
 
 " I 'low ye got a good bit o' money fer the 
 furs. I seed ye had a fine load of 'em." 
 
 " Yes," answered outspoken Balser, u we 
 got three hundred and forty dollars in gold." 
 
 I did not know why I was sorry that 
 Balser had spoken of our gold, but I was. 
 
 " Hope ye didn't leave the gold in any o' 
 them shaky Cincinnati banks," said the old 
 man. 
 
 " Indeed, we did not," returned Balser. 
 " We have it with us," and he produced the 
 shot-bag from the flour-sack. 
 
 When Balser said, "We have it with us," 
 the girl sprang to her feet as if startled, and 
 I noticed an anxious, alarmed expression on 
 her face. It did not occur to me that these 
 old people could be robbers; therefore the 
 girl's curious little action passed unnoticed, 
 though I recalled it afterward. After Bal- 
 ser's outspoken reference to the gold, the old 
 man lapsed into silence, and in a few minutes 
 the old woman said :
 
 214 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " Come, Mab, let's git supper. I expect 
 these gentlemen are hungry." 
 
 Mab followed the old woman into the 
 kitchen and shut the door. In a minute 
 or two I heard the woman speaking angrily 
 to the girl, and soon afterward I saw Mab 
 galloping away on the Michigan Road astride 
 a horse. In the course of half an hour we 
 were called out to supper, and when we had 
 finished, night had almost fallen. A storm 
 was blowing up from the southwest, and the 
 dim light of the gloaming was rapidly giving 
 place to inky darkness. The wind began to 
 sigh ominously, and soon the rainfall became 
 heavier. At eight o'clock the old man went 
 to bed, and at half-past eight the old woman 
 said : 
 
 " I 'low you're tired and want to sleep." 
 
 She was right, and we took kindly to her 
 suggestion. 
 
 " Just go up them steps," she said, " and 
 go into the room on the left-hand side. I 
 expect ye'll want an early breakfast so's to 
 get an early start." 
 
 We told her that we wished to get off 
 as early as possible, and then we went up- 
 stairs to bed, Balser carrying the flour-sack
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 215 
 
 into which we had put the gold, and I lead- 
 ing the way with an old tallow dip that gave 
 about as much illumination as two lightning 
 bugs. 
 
 After supper I had watched for the girl, 
 though I had not seen her. 
 
 There was one window in our room from 
 which two or three panes of glass were lack- 
 ing, and immediately outside the window 
 stood a walnut tree whose branches grew 
 very close to the house. Although we were 
 tired, we did not go to sleep at once, but lay 
 awake listening to the drizzling rain, and 
 receiving a splash now and then through the 
 half-glazed window. 
 
 An hour or two passed tediously, during 
 which I slept as they say a weasel sleeps, 
 with one eye open. Balser was asleep and 
 I was growing drowsy when I heard the 
 splash of horse's hoofs in the road, and was 
 instantly wide awake. Then I heard the 
 bars of the barnyard fall and soon the barn 
 door opened. In a minute or two it closed. 
 Then the door of the kitchen opened and 
 closed, and I knew the girl had returned. 
 I could not help wondering why she had 
 been out in the storm at that hour of the
 
 216 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 night, but I had grown too sleepy to think 
 much about anything. 
 
 Soon after the kitchen door had opened 
 and closed, I fell into a light sleep, but I was 
 immediately awakened by a soft footfall on 
 the stairway, as if some one were approaching 
 our door stealthily in bare feet. Before I 
 was fully awake the door of our room opened 
 noiselessly, and a voice which I at once 
 recognized as Mab's, whispered : 
 
 " Don't speak." 
 
 She quickly ran over to our bed and 
 placed her lips close to my ear. Her warm 
 breath against my cheek was like an electric 
 shock, but she gave me no time to enjoy the 
 pleasure of it. 
 
 In a hurried whisper, she said : " Four 
 armed men will be here in less than five 
 minutes to take your gold. You must pre- 
 tend to sleep. If they know you are awake, 
 they will kill you and your friend, and will 
 bury you in the quagmire in the swamp. 
 They have often buried men alive there. It 
 has no bottom, and the bodies never come up 
 if once they sink. If the men learn that you 
 are awake, your friends will never know your 
 fate."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 217 
 
 " Can we escape ? " I whispered. 
 
 " No, no ! " she answered. " If you try, 
 they will overtake you and kill you. But 
 even if you had any chance of escaping, there 
 is not time to try. There they come up the 
 stairs. Listen. Go to sleep and I'll get 
 under the bed." 
 
 The girl had hardly disappeared under the 
 bed when the door opened and four men, one 
 of whom bore a tallow dip, entered the room. 
 The man with the dip approached our bed. 
 My eyes were closed, but I could distinguish 
 the light through my eyelids. I was desper- 
 ately afraid that Balser would awaken. Their 
 visit was short. In less than half a minute 
 they were gone, and I knew that our precious 
 bag of gold had gone with them. I sat up 
 in the bed and put my feet over the side. 
 
 " Sh ! ! Lie down ! " whispered the girl. 
 
 I lay down again, for I felt that Mab was 
 our friend, and I was sure that she knew 
 what was best for us. Soon I heard a door 
 shut downstairs, and then the girl came out 
 from her hiding-place. Again she put her 
 lips to my ear, and said : 
 
 " Make no disturbance, or you will never 
 leave here alive. To-morrow the old man
 
 218 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 and the old woman will pretend to be in 
 great trouble because robbers broke into the 
 house and stole money from their guests. 
 The old woman will tell you that her money 
 also was stolen. If you seem to agree with 
 her, you will be allowed to leave in safety. 
 If you let her think that you suspect her 
 and the old man, you will die before noon. 
 Don't waken your friend, but let him think 
 you were asleep when the gold was stolen, 
 and encourage him to believe that the old 
 man and the old woman know nothing 
 of it. Don't tell him what I have told 
 you. I would not trust him, but I do trust 
 you." 
 
 Then a wonderful thing happened. She 
 kissed me on the forehead, and glided from 
 the room as noiselessly as a shadow. 
 
 Thoughts of her drove all remembrance 
 of the gold from my mind, and I lay in a sort 
 of ecstasy, dreaming open-eyed about her. 
 In the midst of my longing to see her again, 
 she returned. Again she placed her lips to 
 my ear, and whispered : 
 
 " I know you are brave. If you want to 
 recover your gold, I'll take you to the house 
 of the robbers in the swamp. We will risk
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 219 
 
 our lives, but I'll go with you if you wish 
 to try it." 
 
 " I do wish to try," said I, seizing her 
 hand. 
 
 " When you hear an owl hooting under 
 your window, come out to the barn and bring 
 your friend. Climb out through the window 
 and down the walnut tree." 
 
 Again she left the room, and I awakened 
 Balser. I briefly told him in a whisper what 
 had happened, and we at once rose and 
 dressed. We lifted the window, and after 
 waiting a long time for the signal, an owl 
 hooted; then we climbed to the ground by 
 way of the walnut tree. We found the girl 
 waiting for us, and we all went to the barn. 
 When she felt safe in speaking, she said in 
 low tones : 
 
 " I notified the robbers that you were here 
 and that you had gold. Old Polly made me 
 do it. They would have killed me if I had 
 refused, so I rode away at supper time, and 
 it was I who brought them upon you. But 
 I don't care what they do ; I would rather 
 die than have this on my soul. I will take 
 you to the house in the swamp and show you 
 where the gold is hidden. You can take it,
 
 220 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 and I will lead you out from the swamp. 
 They will know I helped you, and I will tell 
 them that I did. Then they'll kill me, but I 
 want to die anyway." 
 
 She did not wait for an answer, but entered 
 the barn and presently came out leading a 
 horse. 
 
 " You, Tom Andy Bill, ride behind me," 
 she said. " We will get the gold. Let your 
 friend wait with your two horses just inside 
 the woods a little way up the road. You 
 will need fresh horses when we return." 
 
 Balser objected to being left behind and 
 insisted on going with Mab and me. 
 
 " We have but three horses this one and 
 your two," said the girl. " If you ride one of 
 your horses, you will have but one fresh one 
 for a hard, long ride when we come back, and 
 I tell you, you will need two, and need them 
 badly. You don't know these men. They 
 are The Wolves. They're not men, they're . 
 devils." Then she grew angry and continued : 
 " You listen to me and do as I say. I'm giv- 
 ing my life to undo the wrong I did, and 
 and I tell you, you must do as I say, or I'll 
 throw my life away for nothing ! " 
 
 She lowered the bars, put one foot on a
 
 "At timks she allowed the horse to rest"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 221 
 
 rail of the fence, sprang to the horse's back, 
 leaned down toward me, and whispered : 
 
 " Get up behind me, Tom Andy Bill." 
 
 I obeyed, and the next instant we were 
 slowly passing the house, going eastward 
 toward the swamp. She guided the horse to 
 the sod by the roadside to avoid the noise of 
 his hoofs on the gravel roadway. When we 
 were a short distance from the house, she 
 struck the horse with her heels, and away we 
 went at full gallop. 
 
 Presently I said : " Let me ride in front 
 and you behind. I'm ashamed to ride this 
 way." 
 
 " You don't know the road," was her only 
 reply. 
 
 At times she allowed the horse to rest, but 
 she kept up a rapid gait for the greater part 
 of half an hour. Then she left the road and 
 turned into a black forest. After entering 
 the woods we were compelled to travel in a 
 walk, and the panting horse was not sorry. 
 How the girl kept the path I have never 
 known, for the night was so dark that I could 
 not see even the back of her head, though 
 her soft hair was constantly lashing me in 
 the face.
 
 222 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Soon I heard the splashing of our horse's 
 hoofs in the water, and I knew we were enter- 
 ing the swamp. After a little while the girl 
 slid from the horse and led it. I was too 
 much of a man to ride while the girl was wad- 
 ing through the swamp, leading the horse, so 
 I slid off and came with a splash to the 
 ground. 
 
 " Do you want to ruin us ? " she whispered. 
 " These trees have ears. The path through 
 the swamp is narrow, and on each side there 
 is a bottomless quagmire." 
 
 She took my hand, and we proceeded on 
 our perilous journey. In ordinary circum- 
 stances I should have been frightened, for I 
 never was very brave ; but the girl was so 
 fearless that she gave me courage. 
 
 After we had been wading through the 
 swamp perhaps fifteen minutes, she said : 
 
 " We'll soon be on the island. Don't speak 
 above a whisper, and a low whisper at that. 
 Do exactly as I say and don't doubt me." 
 
 When we reached the dry land, she tied the 
 horse and took my hand. The forest was 
 very dense, and the darkness was like a patch 
 of black paint. When she had hitched the 
 horse she took my hand, and whispered : 
 
 \
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 223 
 
 " The house is close by. All the doors and 
 windows are of thick oak and are fastened by 
 bars inside. If the night was warm, a win- 
 dow might be open, and I might climb in and 
 get the gold ; but the storm has made it cool, 
 and I am afraid the house will be locked and 
 barred. If it is, I'll arouse them and take the 
 men away from the house on some excuse 
 while you are hiding. 
 
 " When I take the men to the barn," she 
 continued, "you go in the house by the front 
 door; keep straight ahead till you reach the 
 stairs; go up the steps and turn in at the 
 door to your right. In the opposite right- 
 hand corner of the room there is a large 
 iron-bound oak chest. Near it is Granny 
 Wolf's bed, and under her pillow is the key 
 to the chest. The gold is in the chest. 
 The powder, too, is kept there to protect it 
 from rats. You will awaken Granny, for she 
 sleeps like a weasel, but she is a little deaf 
 and can't distinguish voices well. So the 
 best thing you can do is to shake her, and 
 tell her that you are Con, and that you want 
 to get some powder. Tell her that Mab has 
 come back with news of another rich haul 
 down at Polly's.
 
 224 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " You get the gold, lock the chest, and give 
 Granny the key. Then you go back to 
 where we left the horse, and I'll meet you 
 there soon as I can. Don't try to go through 
 the swamp without me, or you will surely fall 
 into the quagmire. I'll come if I live. If 
 The Wolves discover the trick I have played 
 them, we will both die; that is certain. 
 There are five men and two women. Now, 
 you understand. When the men leave the 
 house with me, you go in at the front door. 
 Go straight ahead to the stairs, and when 
 you get to the top, enter the door at the 
 right, and get the gold as I have told you. 
 Now let's go to the house and try to get in 
 without awakening them." 
 
 Two hundred steps brought us to the 
 house. While we were going there, Mab 
 called my attention to the path, so that I 
 should be able to find my way back to the 
 horse. When we reached the house, we 
 walked around it, trying each window shutter 
 in the hope of finding one unlocked. We 
 had made the entire circuit, and were at the 
 front door, when we heard a voice from an 
 upper window call out : 
 
 "Who's there? Answer quick, or I'll 
 shoot ! "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 225 
 
 " It's Mab ! " cried the girl. At the same 
 moment she pushed me back toward a bush 
 that grew by* the doorstep, and I, taking the 
 hint, crept under the branches. I confess 
 that I was terribly frightened. You must 
 remember I was only a boy of sixteen. The 
 girl was two or three years younger than I, 
 but, in a real emergency, a woman is usually 
 braver than a man. When the man called 
 from the window, the girl answered in a voice 
 without a tremor : 
 
 " It's Mab ! Are you all dead in there ? 
 I've been trying for ten minutes to wake you 
 up. You're a pretty lot of thieves to keep 
 watch. The lawyers " (meaning the officers 
 of the law) " might have burned the house 
 about your ears, and you wouldn't have known 
 the difference. I'm getting tired of this. I've 
 made two trips over here in the rain, and now 
 you keep me waiting out here all night, 
 soaking wet, while you snooze away like 
 'possums. It's the last time I'll ever come to 
 tell you about a haul." 
 
 " Don't grumble, Mab ; I'll let you in," an- 
 swered the voice from above. 
 
 She stepped to the front door and, as she 
 passed me, she touched me, saying, " Lie 
 
 Q
 
 226 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 still." In a moment I heard the clanking o\ 
 chains and the rumbling of bars within, and 
 immediately afterward the door opened. 
 
 " What is it, Mab ? " asked the man. 
 
 The girl stood at the door and I heard her 
 say: 
 
 " There's a load of groceries, and cloth, and 
 everything, Polly says, down at the house. 
 They came in soon after you left." 
 
 " How many men are there ? " asked one 
 of The Wolves. 
 
 " There are three men and a boy, and all 
 are asleep," answered Mab. " Polly drugged 
 them. They have two fine horses, and six 
 guns, and lots of ammunition, Polly says. 
 Besides, Polly says she thinks they have some 
 money." 
 
 " Is their stuff in the house ? " asked one of 
 the men. 
 
 " No," answered Mab ; " they left every- 
 thing in the wagon at the barn, so you 
 needn't go into the house to get the plunder. 
 Polly says for you just to hitch the horses to 
 the wagon and pull out with it. Polly talked 
 to the men while they were eating supper." 
 
 " What time did they come ? " asked a 
 woman who had joined the men at the door.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 227 
 
 " About twelve o'clock, I reckon," answered 
 Mab. " They got us up in the middle of the 
 night to feed them. Polly says she thinks 
 they're drugged all right, but she says for all 
 of you to come over. The three men and the 
 two boys that are already there might wake 
 up and give you an ugly fight if there are 
 only two or three of you, so Polly says for all 
 of you to come well armed, and to hurry. It 
 must be almost two o'clock now." 
 
 By the time the girl had finished telling 
 her story, the other men of the house had 
 joined her at the front door. Immediately I 
 heard a great bustle within the house, and 
 soon the girl came out, with five men follow- 
 ing her. 
 
 " Are you going to the stable to get the 
 horses ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes. Where's yourn ? " answered one 
 of the men. 
 
 " Oh, I've got him right down here. I'll 
 go on ahead, and if anything's wrong when I 
 get to the house, I'll warn you," answered 
 the girl. 
 
 A woman went to the barn with the men, 
 and when they were out of sight, I knew that 
 Granny was alone upstairs ; so I, frightened
 
 228 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 nearly to death, but acting on bravery bor- 
 rowed from the girl, boldly went in at the 
 front door, felt my way to the stairs, and 
 noiselessly went up. After groping about, I 
 found the door to the right and entered. 
 
 " What do you want ? " asked Granny 
 from her bed. 
 
 " It's Con," said I, hoarsely. " I want 
 some powder. There's a great haul down 
 at Polly's. Mab brought the word just 
 now." 
 
 " Yes, I heard all about it. Sally told me. 
 Here's the key," answered Granny Wolf. 
 
 I took the key from her hand after grop- 
 ing about in the dark for it, and then tried 
 to find the chest. Of course I got into the 
 wrong corner, and when I found that I had 
 lost my way in the room, my heart beat so 
 violently that I feared even the deaf old 
 Granny might hear it. After a little time 
 she asked : 
 
 " What on earth are you doing over in that 
 corner ? Lost in the dark ? " 
 
 " Yes," I answered. " Where's the light? " 
 
 " Light ? " screamed the old hag, angrily. 
 " It will be morning before you get the 
 powder if you wait to strike a light from
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 229 
 
 the tinder box this damp night! Give me 
 the key ! " 
 
 I heard her getting out of bed, and I 
 thought my day or my night had come. 
 
 " Where are ye ? " she asked. 
 
 " Here," I answered. 
 
 She found me and I gave her the key. I 
 heard her unlock the chest, and I heard the 
 lid fall back against the wall. 
 
 " How many horns do ye want ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " I'll get them," I answered. 
 
 I collided with her as she was going back 
 to bed, but I immediately found the chest. 
 It was perhaps three and a half feet high. I 
 leaned over and felt among the contents for 
 our precious bag. My hand came in con- 
 tact with all manner of things. There were 
 boxes, bundles, bags, and powder-horns by 
 the score. Everything seemed to be in the 
 chest but our bag of gold. I was almost 
 ready to run away without it, when my hand 
 found a sack tied about the neck with a 
 string. It was much too small for our flour- 
 sack, but it seemed too large and heavy for 
 our gold bag. However, I grasped the 
 puckered end, lifted it out of the chest,
 
 230 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 slammed the lid, turned the key, gave it to 
 Granny, and hurried away as fast as my legs 
 would carry me. My life, but I was glad to 
 get out of that front door ! 
 
 How I found my way back to the horse, 
 I don't know. Fright must have sharpened 
 my instinct, and I found the horse, I suppose, 
 as a lost dog finds its way home without 
 knowing how it does it. When I got back 
 to where the horse was standing, my teeth 
 were chattering so that I thought surely 
 I should waken the entire swamp. My 
 knees smote together, and for a time I had 
 to cling to *the horse for support. I had 
 used up all the courage I had borrowed 
 from the girl, and she was not there to lend 
 me more. 
 
 I have always suffered more or less from 
 cowardice, but that, I believe, was the worst 
 attack I ever had. You see there was no one 
 to witness my weakness, and you have no 
 idea how much the desire to show off and 
 the fear of ridicule has to do with a man's 
 bravery when it comes to action. Many a 
 man who is a coward at heart will drive him- 
 self to do a brave deed in the presence of 
 others. That night I was brave only when
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 231 
 
 the girl was by my side. A touch from her 
 hand strengthened my nerves, and in the 
 light of her eyes I could have fought a 
 thousand dragons. 
 
 I had waited perhaps five minutes beside 
 the horse and they were long ones, you 
 may be sure when I heard the tramping 
 of horses' hoofs and the voices of men ap- 
 proaching from the direction of the house. 
 If my knees had shaken and my teeth chat- 
 tered before, imagine, if you can, the quak- 
 ing and the clatter that ensued when the 
 men passed on horseback within twenty feet 
 of me. 
 
 " Where's Mab ? " I heard one of them 
 ask. 
 
 " I reckon she's gone ahead," answered 
 another. A moment later I heard the 
 splashing of their horses' hoofs in the 
 swamp. 
 
 When I saw the men pass ahead of us, I 
 thought surely Mab and I were lost, and I 
 trembled for Balser's safety. He would be 
 waiting in the woods beyond the house, near 
 the road, and I feared he might return to 
 the barn when we failed to show up. The 
 men were now between Balser and me, and
 
 232 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 how I was to pass them and reach him, I 
 did not know. 
 
 While I was wondering and trembling, 
 the girl came up to me. 
 
 " We'll wait here a few minutes and then 
 we'll follow them," she said, coming close 
 to me and whispering. 
 
 The first thing I did after she came to me 
 was to borrow some of her inexhaustible 
 fund of courage. I negotiated a big loan, 
 but she seemed to have all of hers left after 
 supplying me. Immediately I became as 
 brave as a lion. I feared nothing. 
 
 " Did you get the gold ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," I answered, holding the sack out 
 toward her. 
 
 " You're the bravest boy I ever knew," she 
 said, " and I hope you will forgive me for 
 setting The Wolves upon you. I've done 
 my best to right the wrong, and when they 
 learn of the trick I have played them, they 
 will kill me. They won't care so much 
 about the loss of the gold, but, you see, I 
 have betrayed the secret of their den. They 
 have killed three women and one man that 
 I know of, because they feared they might 
 betray the secret of the swamp to the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 233 
 
 lawyers. They'll bury me alive in the quag- 
 mire, but I don't care if they do. I want to 
 die. I can't live here as the slave of these 
 murderous thieves a day longer." 
 
 " You shall not stay here. You shall go 
 with me," I answered, grasping her hand. 
 
 " You're crazy," she replied, snatching her 
 hand from mine and unhitching the horse. 
 She threw the rein over the horse's head 
 and came back to me. 
 
 " Here, take my foot and give me a lift," 
 she said, holding up her foot. I lifted her 
 to the horse, and grasping her by the hand, 
 sprang up behind her ; then she turned the 
 horse's head and soon we entered the swamp. 
 
 The night was frightfully dark and rain 
 was falling in a heavy drizzle. Ten min- 
 utes after we entered the swamp, the girl 
 suddenly drew rein and cried, " Whoa ! " 
 The horse stopped and I at once realized 
 that it was sinking. For the last few steps 
 I had not heard the splash of the horse's 
 hoofs in the water, and the awful truth 
 flashed across my mind that the girl had 
 missed the path. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " she exclaimed, in a voice of 
 horror, " we're on the edge of the quagmire.
 
 234 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Fall off the horse! Don't jump off! Fall 
 on your side or on your back, and don't try 
 to stand on your feet or you'll be lost! 
 You'll sink in the mud ! " 
 
 She fell off the horse and I followed her 
 lead. 
 
 " Do as I do," she said, and I watched her 
 very closely, you may be sure. She lay full 
 length in the mud, and began rolling toward 
 the path. Instinct prompted me to try to 
 get on my feet, but one effort satisfied me. 
 I thought I was gone. I immediately lay 
 down again on my back in the mud, and 
 with great difficulty extricated my feet. 
 When I had done so, I began to roll toward 
 the girl. Twice I thought I should have to 
 abandon my bag of gold or sink, but I clung 
 to it, and after rolling over three or four 
 times, I felt the strong grasp of this wonder- 
 ful girl's hand. 
 
 " Stand up ! " she said. " You are safe." 
 
 I arose and stood knee-deep in mud, 
 though my feet were on solid ground. 
 
 " Here is the path," she said, leading me 
 toward it. 
 
 " Let us try to save the horse," I suggested. 
 
 " No power on earth can save him," she
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 235 
 
 answered. " Poor fellow ! But lets not stay 
 to see his struggles. Come on ! " 
 
 She climbed to the path, and we con- 
 tinued our awful journey on foot. As we 
 walked along, she took my hand and said, 
 laughing softly: 
 
 " You clung to the gold. I believe you 
 would have gone down rather than lose it." 
 
 " No, I clung to it because I knew I 
 could save it," I answered. 
 
 " It's not worth a life," she returned, 
 " though some lives are not worth very 
 much. Mine isn't. I'll be with the horse 
 in the quagmire before sun-up. I'll save 
 The Wolves the trouble of throwing me 
 in. When I see that you're safe, I'll go 
 back and jump in." 
 
 "You will go with me," I answered. 
 
 " No, no ! " she replied. " You don't know 
 what you are saying. You don't know 
 the evil you would bring upon yourself 
 and your folks. Besides, I don't fear death. 
 I want to die. I once heard a man say 
 there was a place across the ocean where 
 people took mud baths for rheumatism. 
 Well, you see, I have the rheumatism, and 
 I want to cure it."
 
 236 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 She laughed softly, dropped my hand, 
 and took my arm. Her laughter in the face 
 of death fascinated me, and I could hardly 
 speak. I had never before known a human 
 heart of that quality. 
 
 I was covered with mud, and she, too, 
 was plastered from head to heels. 
 
 " If any one were to see us now," she 
 said, again laughing softly, " they would 
 think that we were Adam and Eve, and 
 that the Lord hadn't finished us." 
 
 I was almost ready to weep, but she laughed 
 softly now and then, and ploughed along 
 through the mud and water as merrily as if 
 she were going to a frolic. Once she started 
 to sing, but checking herself, laughed and 
 placed her mud-covered hand over her mouth 
 to smother the song. Then she laughed 
 outright, for she had covered her mouth with 
 mud. I began to doubt my senses or hers. 
 Surely these desperate men would kill her 
 for betraying them, yet in the face of a 
 frightful death, she laughed and wanted to 
 sing. 
 
 God fills some hearts so full of joyous- 
 ness and courage that death has no terrors 
 for them. I walked beside this wonderful
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 237 
 
 girl, dumb with awe. If I had possessed a 
 thousandth part of her bravery, I would 
 have considered myself the most courageous 
 man on earth, but a long acquaintance with 
 mankind has taught me that bravery of that 
 sort is only to be found in the heart of a 
 woman. 
 
 After the girl smothered her song, we 
 walked for ten or fifteen minutes, and at 
 last came to the edge of the swamp. It 
 did seem good to find my feet once more 
 on solid earth. When we reached the Michi- 
 gan Road, we started west as fast as we 
 could go that is, as fast as I could go. 
 I almost ran to keep up with the rapid, 
 swinging gait of the girl. Of course, we 
 had lost a great deal of time in the quag- 
 mire, and I did not feel at all sure that 
 we would not meet the disappointed rob- 
 bers returning. When they learned of the 
 deception that had been put upon them by 
 Mab, they would at once start back in search 
 of her. 
 
 I suggested this danger to the girl, and 
 she answered: 
 
 "Yes, I'm afraid they'll learn of the trick. 
 I intended to follow close at their heels, and
 
 238 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 just before we reached the house, I was 
 going to jump from the horse and let you 
 slip past and hurry on down to your friend, 
 who is waiting with the fresh horses. But 
 we have lost so much time that The Wolves 
 will go into the house, and then they will 
 come out and wait for us on the road. I'm 
 sorry the field in front of the house is cleared. 
 If it was woods, we could make a turn in 
 among the trees and you could crawl by in 
 the shadow." 
 
 " But you'll come, too," I said. 
 
 " No, no, I can't," she answered. " I'm 
 not fit to touch your hand, but all your life I 
 want you to remember the girl that gave 
 her life to save you and to undo the wrong 
 she had done." 
 
 " But you shall go with me. You shall 
 not stay here to be killed by these brutes," 
 said I, grasping her hand. 
 
 " Oh, I'm not afraid of them," she an- 
 swered, with a low, soft laugh. "They can 
 only kill me, and they'll do that quickly 
 enough if I don't get back to the swamp 
 ahead of them and kill myself. At any rate, 
 I'll let them see that I do not fear them. 
 Just as soon as you are safe, I will go to
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 239 
 
 them. I'll defy them. I'll scorn them, and 
 I'll show them how to die laughing." 
 
 " I'll not leave this place without you," I 
 answered, and the ring of determination was 
 in my voice. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will," she replied, coaxingly 
 clinging to my arm. " You must. But listen ! 
 There they come on the gallop right down 
 the road ! They've learned the truth from 
 old Polly. Lord, but she must be mad ! 
 Lie down in the ditch ! Quick ! Quick ! 
 I'll stand here and laugh at them ! Good 
 Lord, hear them swearing and cursing ! Lie 
 down, I tell you! Quick! quick, or you're 
 lost ! Lie down in the ditch ! " 
 
 The Wolves were not a hundred yards 
 from us. 
 
 I'll stand till you lie down," I answered, 
 and she knew I meant what I said. 
 
 She fell in the ditch by the roadside so 
 suddenly that I thought she had been struck 
 down. The next second I was stretched in 
 the mud alongside of her, and ten seconds 
 later The Wolves had come up to us. We 
 were half covered with mud and water, and 
 when the robbers galloped furiously by, we 
 were as safe from detection as were the frogs
 
 240 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 we had disturbed. My life, how The Wolves 
 did curse and blaspheme ! We heard them 
 swearing vengeance against Mab with every 
 wicked oath the evil mouth of man can 
 speak. One fellow said : 
 
 " We'll throw the little devil into the quag- 
 mire before morning." 
 
 Mab pinched me and laughed softly ; but 
 The Wolves had passed, and the girl's un- 
 timely merriment cost us nothing. Mab 
 lifted her head to reconnoitre, and when she 
 saw that the men had passed out of sight, 
 we rose from the ditch and started down 
 the road toward the house and Balser. 
 When we approached the house, we saw by a 
 dim light within that the front door was open. 
 
 " Some of The Wolves have stayed with 
 Polly," said the girl. " You lie down in the 
 gutter on the side of the road opposite the 
 house and crawl past. When you get be- 
 yond the barn, you will be safe. Then you 
 must run. When you get up out of the 
 ditch, you hoot like an owl. Then I will 
 know you are safe, and and that will be 
 our good-by. When you're gone, I'll go 
 into the house and wait for The Wolves to 
 come after me."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 241 
 
 " I'll go into the house with you," said I, 
 " and I'll not go another step without you." 
 
 She grasped me by the arms and her voice 
 trembled as she said, " Do you mean it, you 
 you fool ? " 
 
 " As true as there is a God, I mean it," I 
 answered. " If you have any doubt of the 
 truth of what I say, enter the house and your 
 doubts will soon vanish. If you're not going 
 with me, there's no need to stand here longer 
 in the rain. Let us go in and see Polly. 
 I'll follow you. Which shall it be ? Down 
 the road to Balser and home, or into the 
 house to Polly, The Wolves, and death? 
 Choose quickly. We have no time to 
 waste." 
 
 She was the braver, facing our danger in 
 the swamp ; but you see, after all, I was the 
 stronger, and I beat down her will as the 
 storm beats down the wheat. She paused 
 for a moment, and said, " I choose you," be- 
 traying the first trace of emotion I had seen 
 in her. 
 
 " Quick, quick ! " I said. " I follow you 
 in the ditch ! " 
 
 " No, I follow you from now on till you 
 tell me to stop," she answered.
 
 242 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I believed her, so I fell on my face in the 
 ditch and began to crawl through the mud 
 and water past the house. Mab said that 
 we were having a baptism of mud. I would 
 rather walk a hundred miles than crawl that 
 hundred yards in the ditch. But all things 
 must end, and we at last rose up from the 
 mud and ran toward the woods where Balser 
 was hiding with the horses. During all this 
 time I had clung to the bag of gold. 
 
 We soon found Balser, and his first words 
 were, " Did you get it ? " 
 
 " Yes," said I, holding out the sack ; 
 " here it is." 
 
 The girl pointed her finger at the bag and 
 said with a laugh : 
 
 " If he hadn't got it, you would never have 
 seen him. That precious bag almost cost 
 him his life. But we had better be going or 
 The Wolves will be upon us." 
 
 " We ? " asked Balser in surprise. " Are 
 you going ? " 
 
 " She is," I answered, with emphasis. 
 
 Balser was inclined to remonstrate, and 
 said, " But we " 
 
 " There are no ' buts,' " I interrupted 
 sharply, " She has saved our lives and has
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 243 
 
 recovered our gold, and she goes with us or 
 I stay with her." 
 
 " There are but two horses," insisted 
 Balser, " and we can't all ride." 
 
 " There will be one for you," I retorted, 
 "and if that isn't enough, you may walk. 
 The girl will ride behind me." 
 
 " But," said Balser, " the robbers will pur- 
 sue us, and if you ride double, we can't 
 travel fast enough to escape." 
 
 " I'll not go with you," said the girl. 
 
 " Very well. Then we'll go back to the 
 house," said I. " If you'd only get it into 
 your head for once and all that Tom Andy 
 Bill Addison is not going home without 
 you, you would save us a great deal of 
 time." 
 
 The girl hesitated for a moment, and said 
 softly, " I'll do whatever you tell me to do." 
 
 She had hardly finished speaking when I 
 was on my horse's back, drawing her up be- 
 hind me. When she was firmly seated on 
 the horse, she cried out : 
 
 " Oh, you've forgotten the gold ! Where 
 is the precious bag? " 
 
 She was right ; I had forgotten the gold for 
 the sake of the girl.
 
 244 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " It's on the ground there," I said to 
 Balser. " Hand it to me." 
 
 " I'll carry it," said the girl. Balser 
 handed her the bag, and I said to him : 
 
 " Now you go ahead as fast as you wish, 
 and we'll follow as fast as we can." 
 
 " No, I'll stay with you," he responded. 
 " But why you want to take the girl with us 
 is more than I can understand." 
 
 " You have no need to understand," I 
 answered hotly. " You mind your own busi- 
 ness and go your own way, and we'll take 
 care of ourselves." 
 
 " I wouldn't leave you, Tom Andy Bill," 
 said Balser, " if I knew that I would be full 
 of bullets before sun-up." Then I was sorry 
 that I had spoken angrily. 
 
 Within a minute or two we were once 
 more on the Michigan Road, travelling 
 toward home at a fine pace. We left our 
 wagon and harness in exchange for the girl. 
 Balser thought we had made a poor trade, 
 but I was more than satisfied. Later on in 
 life I I but that's no part of this story. 
 
 Twelve hours afterward Balser and two 
 mud-covered, half-dead specimens of human- 
 ity alighted in front of my father's cabin on
 
 
 " Wk i.kh oik WAGON ami HARNESS IN EXCHANGE KOR 
 THE GIKI. "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 245 
 
 Blue. Perhaps you think we were not glad 
 to get home ! Rapid explanations followed, 
 and I was not quite sure that father and 
 mother looked upon the girl and wagon trade 
 with all the favor that it had found in my 
 eyes; but after the mud had been washed 
 from Mab's face, and after she had put on 
 one of my sister's dresses, her beauty shone 
 with such lustre that mother kissed her and 
 gave her welcome. 
 
 When I told mother how Mab had saved 
 our lives and our gold, the dear old mother 
 kissed her again, and told Mab she should 
 be another daughter in the house. A great 
 deal of rapid talking followed, and our ad- 
 venture with the robbers was told with all 
 the exciting detail that I could furnish. 
 The gold, of course, was mentioned fre- 
 quently, and after a little time, father said: 
 
 "Where is the money, Tom Andy Bill?" 
 
 " There it is," said I, pointing to the sack 
 on the table. 
 
 Father lifted the sack and said : " It's 
 powerful heavy. Did you get it all for the 
 furs?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered. 
 
 Then he untied the mouth of the sack and
 
 246 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 poured out upon the table a great pile of 
 beautiful bullets. 
 
 Mab looked at the bullets ; her big eyes 
 opened in momentary surprise, and then she 
 sent forth the merriest peal of laughter you 
 ever heard. 
 
 " That bag of bullets nearly cost him his 
 life," she said, and then she laughed again 
 as if she thought it was very funny. 
 
 Balser said : " After all that we have gone 
 through, this is awful ! Bullets ! " 
 
 " Don't say a word," said I, and to tell you 
 the truth, it was hard for me to keep from 
 laughing. You see, we had brought home 
 the girl, and I thought that any sort of an 
 exchange for her was a good trade. 
 
 Balser walked up and down the room for 
 a moment, and then said with determina- 
 tion : 
 
 "We'll go back to the swamp and get 
 that gold just as sure as I live, I'll do it. 
 We'll have it within a month ! " 
 
 " I hope you're right," said I. 
 
 We did go back with a posse of twenty- 
 five deputy United States marshals. The 
 government wanted The Wolves under an 
 indictment against them for having robbed
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 247 
 
 the mails. Balser and I got our gold, we 
 being able to identify it in the little sack in 
 which we had received it. The deputy mar- 
 shals captured a great deal of other gold 
 and plunder, all of which was confiscated 
 by the government. 
 
 Old Polly Wolf and the two women, cap- 
 tured in the swamp, were taken to Cincin- 
 nati, where Polly died in jail. Even though 
 she was in jail, more than a hundred miles 
 away from Blue River, she made trouble for 
 me trouble that resulted in the greatest 
 grief I've ever known. One of The Wolves 
 escaped, but the other four and old Daddy 
 Wolf were hanged. 
 
 " Now, Mab, what do you think of that 
 story?" asked Uncle Tom Andy Bill. 
 
 " I hope you'll not tell us any more like 
 it," the baby girl answered, with a sigh. 
 " I've almost shivered to death. Please take 
 me on your lap, Uncle Tom Andy Bill, and 
 warm me." 
 
 She climbed to his lap, and was soon 
 warmed to sleep in his arms. He watched 
 the child's face, and when the white, blue- 
 veined lids were closed hard and fast, he
 
 248 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 whispered huskily, " The girl was Mab's 
 grandmother." 
 
 He bent his head, the waving silver locks 
 mingled for a moment with Mab's curls as 
 he kissed her baby lips, and then he drew 
 a great sigh and carried his love of loves to 
 bed.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A CHRISTMAS DINNER IN THE WOODS 
 
 The following summer I bought the forty- 
 acre tract of ground on which this house 
 stands with my half of the money recovered 
 from The Wolves. Father's farm was five 
 miles south of here on Blue River. Balser 
 bought the forty acres just north of this. 
 Our first task was to build a log cabin. We 
 built it on the little patch of raised ground 
 close to the river, just below the barn. You 
 have all played in it you, and two or three 
 other generations. It stands there yet, and 
 will stand there as long as I live if I have my 
 way concerning it. 
 
 After our cabin was built, Balser and I 
 moved in and began clearing the land. It 
 was a big undertaking for two boys seven- 
 teen years old, but we went at it with deter- 
 mination and made fair progress from the 
 start. You have no idea of the magnitude 
 of the task. 
 
 349
 
 250 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 The ground was almost covered with 
 great trees, many of them four feet in di- 
 ameter, and between the trees flourished an 
 undergrowth that would make the hair on a 
 dog's back look thin by comparison. It was 
 hard, slow work, but Balser and I took our 
 time to it; and for the first three or four 
 years we were contented with a small clear- 
 ing. 
 
 The house nearest us down the river was 
 Raster's, three miles away. East of us, 
 three or four miles distant, lived a few 
 families ; but they did not belong to the Blue 
 River settlement and we did not know them. 
 
 In our cabin we had a floor made of logs 
 smoothed with an adze on three sides and fit- 
 ting snugly together. There was a ceiling 
 overhead, under the clapboard roof, and of 
 course we had a fine, large fireplace. Our 
 cabin on Brandywine had been too well 
 ventilated to protect us against a cold wind, 
 but our new cabin on Blue was a defence 
 against both the wind and the frost. We 
 also built a log stable for Solomon, and when 
 winter approached, we were prepared to live 
 sumptuously. Mother gave me a cow, and 
 late in the fall we brought up corn and oats
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 251 
 
 for feed. We had chickens also, and after 
 we were fairly installed for the winter, we 
 lived royally. We took school books and 
 histories with us, and during the long winter 
 evenings we acted as each other's teacher, 
 and learned as much as if we had been in 
 school. 
 
 When the cold weather set in, our principal 
 work, of course, was trapping, though we also 
 did a good bit of clearing. We didn't have 
 many adventures worth narrating, but we 
 spent a grand, happy, profitable winter. Oh, 
 how happy we were ! I see even the little 
 events of that winter more distinctly than 
 the great ones of recent years. We had 
 built a long oak table that we placed in front 
 of the fire, and the picture of two boys sitting 
 at the table, ciphering by the firelight, is to 
 me like a peep back into Paradise. 
 
 My, how cosey we were ! And what a 
 sweet zest life had for us ! We had a real 
 bed a feather bed over in the corner, 
 and the walls of the cabin were covered with 
 shelves, handy for storing our arms, ammu- 
 nition, tools, provisions, and utensils. We 
 had dishes, too, and pots and pans so numer- 
 ous that they were often in our way.
 
 252 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Usually we went home every second 
 Sunday ; but as Christmas approached, we 
 skipped a Sunday, intending to be home to 
 meet Santa Claus. 
 
 A day or two before Christmas we killed 
 a fat wild turkey, meaning to take it home 
 for Christmas dinner. The weather at that 
 time, I well remember, was beautiful. A 
 heavy snow covered the ground, and it was 
 cold. The trees about our cabin were fes- 
 tooned with garlands of crystal and snow, 
 and the bright sun, loath to spoil the ex- 
 quisite picture, was gentle in the way of 
 heat, but mighty in brilliancy. We lived in 
 a fairyland. 
 
 Christmas morning Balser and I awoke 
 at the usual hour, but remembering the day, 
 we concluded to make ourselves a present of 
 a morning nap, so we rolled over and went 
 to sleep again. We did not sleep long, how- 
 ever, for we were awakened by peals of 
 laughter and cries of " Balser, Balser ! " and 
 " Tom Andy Bill ! " outside our door. One 
 voice I recognized instantly. It was Mab's, 
 and you may safely wager everything you 
 have that I got out of bed mighty quickly. 
 
 Our toilets were made while you could
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 253 
 
 count a hundred, and when I opened the 
 door, there were my three sisters and Mab 
 on two of my father's horses. Each girl car- 
 ried a basket, and they were all laughing and 
 screaming and calling for help. What a 
 sight it was ! Their cheeks were like June 
 roses, their eyes danced and glistened like 
 the happiest star in all the firmament, and the 
 laughter from their lips was like the ripple 
 of the merriest brook that ever sung a moun- 
 tain roundelay. 
 
 When we came out they could not speak 
 for laughing, and we were so glad to see them 
 that we, too, began to laugh, and away we 
 went, all together, with foolish persistency 
 that must have delighted the heart of good 
 old Santa Claus. 
 
 We stood there laughing until Mab said : 
 " Take this basket, Tom Andy Bill. It has 
 almost broken my arm." 
 
 I took the basket and turned to help her 
 from the horse, but I was too late. She had 
 jumped to the ground before I could turn 
 around. 
 
 " Too slow, Tom Andy Bill," she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 " Too quick, Mab," whispered I.
 
 254 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 We took all the baskets from the girls, 
 and when they had dismounted Balser and I 
 led the horses to the stable. When we 
 returned to the cabin we found the girls 
 busily engaged getting breakfast. Of course 
 they were all laughing and talking at once. 
 When Balser and I joined them, we, too, 
 began to laugh about nothing, and talk about 
 less. We all talked at once, and although 
 none of us seemed to know what the others 
 were saying, we understood in a general way 
 that we were trying to tell each other how 
 glad we were that we were alive and all 
 together. 
 
 Balser and I, of course, wanted to peep into 
 the baskets, but a chorus of screams and pro- 
 tests checked our curiosity. The girls would 
 not let us eat much breakfast, saying that we 
 must save ourselves for dinner. We tried to 
 convince them that we didn't have to save 
 ourselves, that we had enough hunger for 
 both breakfast and dinner; but those tyranni- 
 cal girls served us only a small ration and said 
 we would have to be satisfied. After break- 
 fast they drove us out of the house and kept 
 us waiting in the cold until Mab came to the 
 door and said, " Now you may come in."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 255 
 
 On the table were presents that had been 
 sent up to us by our folks. Among my pres- 
 ents, I well remember, was a great woollen 
 neck comforter, long enough to wind about 
 my throat a dozen times. The colors were 
 patriotic red, white, and blue and I 
 thought and still think it the most beautiful 
 comforter in the world, for Mab had knitted 
 it. She threw it about my neck and pulled 
 both ends to choke me. Of course, that 
 seemed very funny to everybody, and we all 
 laughed till the tears came to our eyes. Mitts, 
 and socks, and ear-warmers, and comforters, 
 and chest protectors all the work of loving 
 hands covered the table, and and bless 
 my life ! it almost makes me cry to remem- 
 ber how happy we were. It's too bad that 
 there's always a tinge of sadness in the mem- 
 ory of great joy. 
 
 The girls went with us that morning to 
 visit the traps. I wore my great comforter 
 and almost smothered because it was so 
 warm. I would have worn it even had I 
 known that it would kill me. I walked with 
 Mab, and, I tell you, I was happy. I hoped we 
 would find no game in the traps, for I could 
 not bear to think of causing suffering even to
 
 256 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 a wolf at that time. Mab, too, was happy ; and 
 when we found a fox in a trap, we would have 
 liberated it had it not fought so viciously 
 when we tried to unspring the trap that we 
 had to kill it. We freed a score of coons and 
 muskrats, giving them their lives as a Christ- 
 mas present from the girls. 
 
 When we had visited the traps, we went 
 back to the cabin, and Balser climbed the tree 
 on which our wild turkey was hanging and 
 brought down the bird. We dipped the 
 turkey in a great kettle of hot water to 
 loosen the feathers, and soon it was bare. 
 When the turkey was ready for the fire, we 
 improvised a spit, using a steel ramrod for 
 the purpose, and hung it over a great bed of 
 hickory coals to roast. If you have never 
 tasted a turkey roasted over the coals on a 
 spit, you don't know how agreeable that noble 
 bird can make itself to a man's palate. 
 
 We had only two chairs and two boxes, so, 
 when dinner was served, the girls sat on the 
 chairs and boxes, and Balser and I knelt at 
 the table. I was so hungry I didn't know 
 where to begin. The mince pie looked so 
 good I wanted to start on that, but sister 
 Nan said I didn't know how to eat.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 257 
 
 " You just give me a piece of that pie, and 
 I'll show you if I don't know how to eat," 
 said I. " Eat ? I could give a yearling 
 shoat odds and make him blush for his 
 appetite." 
 
 The remark was not very funny, but every 
 one thought it was, and the matter of eating, 
 urgent as it was, had to be postponed until 
 we were through laughing. My joke went 
 so well that I tried to think of another, but 
 failed. Balser said something about his 
 knees hurting the floor, and again the attack 
 on the dinner was postponed. After we had 
 laughed at Balser's joke, I said: 
 
 " Now, every one keep still. I want to eat. 
 I've laughed till I'm sore all over ; " but Mab 
 only laughed the more and said : 
 
 " What's the use of eating so long as you 
 can laugh ? " so off we went again, and I 
 thought we would never stop. 
 
 I again insisted that I wanted a piece of 
 pie first. 
 
 My sisters all protested, but while Nan, 
 the eldest, was carving the turkey, Mab, who 
 sat next to where I was kneeling, cut the 
 mince pie, and handed a piece to me under 
 the table. When the others saw me eating
 
 258 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 the pie, there was a great storm of protests, 
 and everybody had to laugh again. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Shoat," said Nan, "pie is 
 always eaten last, and as you are eating your 
 pie, of course you have finished your dinner, 
 and you don't get another mouthful." 
 
 But Mab said: "Don't cry, Tom Andy 
 Bill. You shall have half of my dinner. I'll 
 take enough for both." 
 
 In all the world there was not a gentler, 
 tenderer heart than Mab's, and Tom Andy 
 Bill was always first in it. 
 
 We were slow getting started because we 
 were laughing and talking so much; but 
 once we got under way, you should have 
 seen that dinner disappear. 
 
 Turkey and " stuffing," mashed potatoes, 
 delicious fresh bread, yellow butter, milk that 
 was nearly all cream, jelly, a half-dozen kinds 
 of preserved fruits, as many kinds of cake, 
 mince pies, apple pies, sugar pies all fell 
 before our wrath, and soon I was so full that 
 I thought one more mouthful would surely 
 make me helpless. I would gladly give all 
 I possess to eat just one more dinner like 
 that before I die, but if I were worth millions 
 I couldn't buy it.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 259 
 
 After dinner we swept the snow from a 
 long, narrow stretch of ice on the river and 
 " skeeted." We had no skates ; we simply ran 
 and slid on the ice. Some one suggested that 
 we slide for a prize, and the person making 
 the longest " skeet " should win the trophy. 
 There was one difficulty in the way of carry- 
 ing out this plan. We had no prize. 
 
 I suggested, " Let's take a lock of Mab's 
 hair for a prize." 
 
 Every one but Mab eagerly assented. She 
 put her hands to her hair protectingly, and 
 said, " No, sir! " But when we all insisted, 
 she gave in, and I cut a lock of black, 
 silky hair from her head with my penknife. 
 I made up my mind to win that prize or die 
 in the attempt. 
 
 When the ice path was cleared, we started 
 in on our contest. The girls went first, 
 then Balser "skeeted," and then I came to 
 the scratch. I looked under my hand down 
 the ice path, as if I were trying to see some- 
 thing very far off, and said : 
 
 " The river isn't long enough for me. I'm 
 afraid if I start too hard, I'll slide out through 
 the mouth and land in the Ohio." 
 
 Every one laughed as usual, and I thought
 
 2 6o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I was a great wag. We were each to have 
 ten trials, and the afternoon was pretty well 
 advanced before we had finished the contest. 
 I got the prize, and I got a smile along with 
 it when Mab made the award that I valued 
 even more highly than the trophy itself. 
 
 After "skeeting," we all flocked to the 
 stable to milk and feed the cow, and to give 
 Solomon his corn and hay. Everybody 
 helped at the chores, and of course every- 
 body laughed all the time. Solomon said 
 very plainly that it had never before been 
 his misfortune to meet such a lot of laughing 
 fools; but though Solomon was wise, he didn't 
 know everything. You see, he didn't under- 
 stand our sort of wisdom. There's more 
 wisdom in a laugh, Solomon, than is dreamt 
 of in your philosophy. 
 
 The remains of dinner served us for sup- 
 per, and after we had finished we moved the 
 table back in the room. Nan brought out a 
 great jug of hard cider, hard, mind you, 
 and we all sat down on the floor in a half 
 moon before the roaring fire, where we ate 
 nuts, drank cider, popped corn, told stories, 
 asked riddles, and played childish games till 
 bedtime. Sister Nan allowed us just enough
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 261 
 
 to drink and no more, for hard cider will 
 make you drunk if you take too much. 
 
 " Nan keeps the cider jug beside her," 
 said Balser, playing on the word; and I went 
 him one better and said: 
 
 " I'm afraid she'll soon have it all inside 
 her if we don't assert our rights." 
 
 We had laughed so much all day that we 
 could not laugh any more, and our awful 
 puns fell flat, as was perfectly right and 
 just. 
 
 The girls remained all night and slept in 
 our bed. Fortunately it was very broad, and 
 fortunately, too, they could have slept any- 
 where. Balser and I took our bearskin 
 sleeping-bags and went to the stable loft, 
 where we were snug and warm in the hay. 
 Grumbling Solomon tried to explain to us 
 next morning that we had kept him awake, 
 snoring; but we wouldn't understand his bad 
 English, and, in fact, we didn't believe him 
 anyway. 
 
 The day after Christmas the girls left us, 
 and our cabin seemed to me like an Eveless 
 Eden, a deserted, lonely Paradise. 
 
 Half an hour after my sisters and Mab had 
 left the cabin, while Balser and I were sit-
 
 262 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 ting before the fire, feeling very lonesome, 
 and trying to make up our minds to visit the 
 traps, we heard a great screaming outside, 
 and we knew that the girls had come back 
 to us in trouble. We hurried out to learn 
 the cause of the screaming, and met the four 
 girls a short distance below Solomon's barn, 
 running for the cabin as fast as they could 
 run, and screaming at the top of their voices. 
 
 " What on earth is the trouble now ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 Sister Nan gasped out the word " Bear ! " 
 
 " Where are the horses ? " I asked. 
 
 " They got frightened at the bear and 
 reared up, and we slid off behind," said Nan. 
 
 " And then we were at the mercy of the 
 bear," interrupted sister Betty. 
 
 "It seems to have been a merciful bear," 
 I suggested. " You are all here, alive and 
 whole of skin." 
 
 "Don't joke about it, Tom Andy Bill," 
 said Mab, who was almost out of breath. 
 " Our skins may be whole, but, I tell you, we 
 are almost frightened out of them. Oh, it 
 was awful! We came upon the bear right in 
 front of us as we turned a bend in the path. 
 The horses reared up, and of course we slid
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 263 
 
 off. Then the horses ran, and that awful 
 bear arose on its hind feet, opened its fright- 
 ful red mouth, and came right toward us 
 with the most horrid growls you ever heard." 
 
 " What did you do ? " I asked. 
 
 " Why, we screamed, of course, and ran, 
 and kept on running and screaming till we 
 got here." 
 
 " Where did you see the bear ? " asked 
 Balser. 
 
 " Just beyond the big hollow sycamore," 
 answered my youngest sister. 
 
 The hollow sycamore stood by the side of 
 the horse path, half a mile down-stream. 
 
 While we were talking, Balser ran to the 
 house, and within two minutes he returned, 
 bringing with him the dogs, guns, and ammu- 
 nition. I took my gun, powder-horn, and 
 bullets from him, and said : 
 
 " Now, come with us, girls. Show us the 
 bear, and we will avenge your wrong." 
 
 The girls very willingly went with us, 
 feeling brave under the protection of two such 
 mighty bear hunters, and before we had taken 
 twenty steps on the war-path, they were 
 laughing and talking as merrily as if nothing 
 had happened to ruffle them.
 
 264 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I quieted them, saying: " If you want to 
 catch the bear, you must keep still. The 
 clatter you girls are making would frighten 
 off a troupe of deaf and dumb lions." 
 
 Quiet reigned for a moment, but those 
 girls were so happy they could no more 
 keep from laughing than a mountain brook 
 in springtime can keep from babbling. 
 
 When we approached the spot where the 
 bear had been seen, the girls confined them- 
 selves to whispers, and, as father would have 
 said, " giggling." They might as well have 
 shouted. Balser and I, of course, were march- 
 ing in the van of the laughing army, and the 
 girls were following close at our heels. The 
 first shot would certainly frighten them out 
 of their wits and send them flying on the 
 backward path. In fact, I had no hope at 
 all of finding the bear. One might as well 
 go to sea in a lead ship as hunt bears with 
 a covey of girls. Balser, too, felt that our 
 search was in vain. In truth, our real pur- 
 pose in going with the girls was more to allay 
 their fears and to find the horses than to kill 
 a bear. We had no hope of the latter. We 
 knew the bear would take itself off to safety 
 when it heard us approaching, and I knew
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 265 
 
 that our only chance of killing " His Bear- 
 ship " was to take up its spoor and follow 
 it. That probably would mean an all day's 
 journey, and we, of course, had no idea of 
 taking the girls on such a tramp. 
 
 Balser and I had suggested to the girls the 
 possibility that they might be frightened when 
 the fight took place, but they, with more noise 
 than sincerity, spurned the thought. " No, 
 indeed, they would not be frightened ! Just 
 wait and see ! " 
 
 When we were passing the hollow syca- 
 more, I turned toward the girls and whis- 
 pered : 
 
 " I think the bear is right ahead of us." 
 Of course, it was said to frighten them. I 
 did not see Mab with the girls, so I asked, 
 " Where's Mab ? " 
 
 " She dropped her muff and has gone back 
 to find it," answered Betty. 
 
 Balser and I were perhaps ten yards ahead 
 of the girls, when he called back in a hoarse 
 whisper : 
 
 " Here's the bear! Here's the bear! " Then 
 he whispered to me : " Let's fire and scare 
 them. There's no bear within a mile of us, 
 and we'll not see one."
 
 266 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Wanting to show off, he fired his gun, and 
 I, too, blazed away at nothing. The result 
 was most satisfactory, for the girls ran back 
 on the path screaming like mad. They were 
 not going to be frightened, no, not they ! 
 Balser and I stood laughing, but soon our 
 tune changed, for in less than a minute the 
 girls, that is, three of them, came running 
 back to us, screaming and frightened in real 
 earnest. 
 
 " There's another bear right back of us," 
 cried Betty. Balser and I again laughed, but 
 we were soon convinced that they had really 
 seen a bear. 
 
 " Where was it ? " I asked anxiously. 
 
 " It came out of. the hollow sycamore just 
 as we got there," answered Nan. 
 
 " Where is Mab ? Where is Mab ? " I 
 asked. At last I was aroused. 
 
 "She is down the path, hunting her muff," 
 answered Nan ; " and the bear started right 
 down in her direction." 
 
 So did I start in her direction as fast as 
 I could run, and Balser after me. 
 
 "Load your gun!" I cried, "and come on 
 quick." 
 
 I tried to load my gun as I ran, but I
 
 ' >M. HUNDRED YARDS AHEAD OK Ml WAS THE BEAR "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 267 
 
 spilled the powder and could not get a bul- 
 let in the muzzle. Balser stopped to load 
 his gun, and soon overtook me. Then I 
 stopped, and never in all my life did I load 
 a gun so quickly. 
 
 I threw my coat to the ground and started 
 after Balser. After I had passed him, I heard 
 a piercing scream just ahead of me. I knew 
 the scream was from Mab, though I could 
 not see her, for the path made a sharp turn 
 at that point, and the underbrush, though 
 leafless, was so thick that I could not see 
 through it. 
 
 When I rounded the bend in the path, 
 my blood almost froze. One hundred yards 
 ahead of me was the bear, and a few short 
 yards ahead of it was Mab, running and 
 screaming for dear life. The race between 
 Mab and the bear would not last long. The 
 girl, though braver than I when facing death 
 at the hands of The Wolves, would soon 
 fall from exhaustion and fright, and the in- 
 furiated bear would tear her to pieces. 
 
 There were two reasons why I dared not 
 shoot. First, Mab was in line with the bear 
 and me, and if my bullet should miss the 
 black brute, it would surely find her. Sec-
 
 268 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 ond, the bear's tail was toward me. I could 
 get neither a broadside nor a head shot, and 
 if I should hit the bear, my bullet would 
 wound but would not kill, and a wounded 
 bear is the incarnation of fury. 
 
 While these thoughts were flashing through 
 my mind, the bear overtook Mab. I saw it 
 stop and rise to its feet to strike the girl 
 with its fearful paws. One blow would have 
 killed her, for the bear was a monster. 
 
 The brute's momentary pause allowed Mab 
 to gain a few feet in the race, and while the 
 bear was upright, Balser fired, and I heard 
 the bullet strike. Instantly Mab fell to the 
 ground. I shouted, and the bear turned 
 toward me. I hoped I had drawn the at- 
 tack upon myself, and had my gun almost 
 to my shoulder to fire at the bear's head, 
 when it turned quickly and again presented 
 its rump for my aim. By this time I had 
 reduced the distance between the bear and 
 me to twenty yards, and Mab was lying in 
 the path a few yards ahead of the bear. 
 
 Of course, all that I am telling you oc- 
 curred very rapidly within a few seconds. 
 In less than one second, it seemed to me, 
 after the bear turned, it was standing over
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 269 
 
 Mab, who was lying on the ground. I saw 
 its teeth glisten as it opened its great red 
 mouth just over her white throat, and I 
 thought that Mab had not another moment 
 to live. If she were not already dead from 
 Balser's bullet, the bear would soon kill her. 
 
 A thousand thoughts flashed through my 
 mind in the hundredth part of a second, as 
 a man may dream of the events of a lifetime 
 during one beat of his pulse. I thought of 
 my first meeting with Mab, of the swamp, of 
 her flight, of her bravery, her beauty, her 
 tenderness, and though I was but a boy of 
 seventeen and she a girl of fifteen, I then 
 knew that in all my life I should never find 
 another girl to take her place in my heart ; 
 and and I never have found one. 
 
 Well, as I have said, all these things flashed 
 through my mind while the bear's terrible 
 jaws were about to clutch Mab's throat. I 
 acted entirely without thought and upon 
 impulse. I was not conscious of lifting my 
 gun to my shoulder. I do not remember 
 firing, but I did fire, and I do remember see- 
 ing the bear spring into the air and fall back 
 on Mab. My bullet had penetrated its 
 brain. I also remember tossing the great
 
 270 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 five-hundred-pound brute to one side as ft 
 it had been a fox, and I remember snatching 
 Mab from the ground and running back 
 down the path with my unconscious burden 
 in my arms to where the girls were standing. 
 I was as strong as an ox. 
 
 " See if she lives," I cried, laying Mab 
 gently on the ground. 
 
 Nan felt her hands and said : " I don't 
 know. I can't tell." 
 
 Then I fell on my knees and placed my 
 ear over her heart. I distinctly heard its 
 beating, and I sprang to my feet, crying 
 excitedly : 
 
 "She lives! She lives! See if she is 
 shot, Nan!" 
 
 " Shot ? " asked Nan in surprise. 
 
 " Yes," I answered. "Shot! Shot! Don't 
 you understand ? Remove her clothing and 
 see if she is shot ! " 
 
 I walked away and met Balser coming 
 down the path. I stopped him and said : 
 
 " Nan is trying to see if she is shot." 
 
 " Shot ? " asked Balser. " Who shot her ? " 
 
 * You, if any one," I answered. " She fell 
 when you fired." 
 
 "Merciful God!" cried Balser, "did I
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 271 
 
 miss the bear and hit her ? Let us examine 
 the bear." 
 
 We ran to the dead bear and began a 
 hurried examination. I found the wound 
 of Balser's bullet in its neck, and I soon dis- 
 covered my shot in its head. I then hastened 
 back to the girls, shouting : 
 
 " She is not shot ! She is not shot ! 
 We've found both bullets in the bear." 
 
 " No, she is not shot," answered Nan, 
 calmly, " but I fear she is dying." 
 
 Without another word, I took Mab in my 
 arms and started home, wild with grief and 
 strong with despair. Balser went back to 
 fetch Solomon and the sleigh, but I went on 
 toward home, carrying Mab in my arms. I 
 had been walking perhaps ten minutes when 
 a sigh came from her lips. She lifted her 
 arm, twined it about my neck, and whispered 
 my name, " Tom Andy Bill." I was wild 
 with joy, but I did not speak. In a moment 
 she said : 
 
 " You saved my life. I saw you lift your 
 gun ; then I heard the bullet strike the bear's 
 head within six inches of my face, and I 
 knew your aim had been true." 
 
 She said she was not hurt, and she wanted
 
 272 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 me to put her down ; but I begged her to 
 remain where she was, and she whispered : 
 
 "We'll let the others think I haven't 
 waked up yet." 
 
 Then she closed her eyes again, and 
 I marched proudly through the snow, as 
 strong as Samson, the happiest boy in all the 
 world. 
 
 The road over which the sled could be 
 drawn made a circuit east of the river, while 
 the horse path over which we were travelling 
 hugged the banks for quite a distance down- 
 stream and joined the wagon road four miles 
 above father's house. When we reached the 
 wagon road we halted to wait for Balser, and 
 soon we saw Solomon's ears coming ma- 
 jestically down the track, as one sees first 
 the topmasts of an approaching ship at sea. 
 Presently Solomon greeted us with a song of 
 welcome, and when he came up to us, he 
 was puffing and blowing like a racehorse 
 just off the course. 
 
 " I came just as quickly as I could, and I 
 do believe I made a mile a minute," said the 
 wise one. At least, that is what Mab said 
 he said, but Balser said that the donkey 
 travelled so slowly that part of the time it
 
 "Wild WITH <;kiki I TOOK Maii in my arms and started 
 
 home"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 273 
 
 seemed as if they were going backward. 
 We didn't know which to believe. 
 
 We put Mab in the sleigh, much against 
 her will, and I insulted Solomon so grievously 
 by attempting to lead him by the bridle that 
 he would not budge. When I left his head, 
 he stepped forward with ears apeak, proud 
 as any peacock. Mab laughed, and when no 
 one would get into the sleigh to ride with 
 her, she said she wouldn't ride alone, so she 
 jumped out. Despite the girls' entreaties 
 and my commands, she walked home with us 
 and was none the worse for her terrible 
 adventure. 
 
 The two horses had run home after dump- 
 ing the girls in the snow, and our folks were 
 greatly alarmed. 
 
 We found awaiting us, besides father and 
 mother, two strange gentlemen and a lady. 
 They were elegantly dressed city folks, and 
 when we entered the room where they were 
 sitting, the lady ran at once to Mab, saying : 
 
 " It is she ! It is she ! She is the very 
 image of my sister ! " 
 
 Mab stepped back from the lady in sur- 
 prise and asked: 
 
 u What is the matter ? What do you want ?"
 
 274 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 I knew instinctively that they wanted 
 Mab, and I was not surprised when the lady 
 said : 
 
 " We want you, my dear. We want to 
 take you with us. I am your mother's sis- 
 ter; this gentleman is your uncle, and the 
 other gentleman is my husband. We learned 
 from an old woman named Polly Wolf, who 
 died in the Cincinnati jail, that you had been 
 stolen by a band of robbers who plundered 
 a stage-coach a few years ago, and killed your 
 father and mother. The old woman said 
 you had run away from her house with two 
 boys who lived farther west near the Michi- 
 gan Road. We commenced our search for 
 you at once, and at last have found you. We 
 will give you a home and will care for you 
 as if you were our daughter." 
 
 " But I have a good home," said Mab. 
 
 "Yes, yes, we know," interrupted one of 
 the gentlemen. Turning to the lady, he said, 
 " Sit down, Eliza, and let me question the 
 girl." 
 
 The lady sat down, and the gentleman 
 asked : 
 
 " Your name is Mab, is it not ? " 
 
 Mab answered, " It is."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 275 
 
 " Do you know your father's name ? " asked 
 the gentleman. 
 
 " No," responded Mab. " At Polly's I went 
 by the name of Mab Wolf. But I knew that 
 Granny and Grandpap Wolf were no kin to 
 me." 
 
 " It is as I expected," said the gentleman. 
 " Do you remember when you first came to 
 Granny Wolf's ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes. I was taken from a stage-coach. 
 I was perhaps five years old." 
 
 " There is no further doubt," said the gen- 
 tleman, turning to my father. " We thank 
 you for your kindness to the girl. We will 
 pay you for your trouble and will relieve you 
 of her care." 
 
 " You owe me nothing," said father. " Mab 
 has been no trouble to us. She has been a 
 delight and a comfort ; hasn't she, wife ? " 
 
 " Indeed she has," answered mother. 
 
 " We can at least give you our gratitude," 
 said the gentleman, " and I am sure you will 
 be glad that the girl has found her people, 
 and that they have found her." 
 
 " I'm not so sure that I am glad," answered 
 father. " Do you want to leave us, Mab ? " 
 
 " No, no, daddy," cried Mab, running to
 
 276 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 father's side and grasping his arm. " I don't 
 want to go; I want to stay with you." 
 
 " But this is not your home," interrupted 
 the gentleman. " Your aunt and I are your 
 natural guardians, and our home is the proper 
 place for you." 
 
 "What you say may all be true," said father, 
 " but how am I to know it ? " 
 
 " Haven't I just told you all the circum- 
 stances of the case ? " answered the gentle- 
 man. " The girl is the image of her mother. 
 Any one who knew my sister would know 
 that this girl is her child." 
 
 " Yes, but you see I didn't know your sis- 
 ter," answered father. 
 
 Then the gentleman grew angry and said, 
 " My good man, your intentions are all 
 right, but you are much too officious in this 
 matter, and we shall have to insist upon the 
 girl coming with us at once." 
 
 " Again I ask you, do you want to go with 
 these folks, Mab ? " asked father. 
 
 " No, no ! A thousand times no ! " cried 
 the girl, clinging to father and beginning to 
 weep. 
 
 " Then," said father, addressing the gentle- 
 men and the lady, " I shall have to ask you
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 277 
 
 to go outside the house and do your insisting, 
 for the girl shall not go with you against her 
 will." 
 
 " I'll bring the sheriff and take her," an- 
 swered the gentleman, angrily ; " I won't be 
 bullied by an old fool like you." 
 
 " Go and get the sheriff if you wish," said 
 father, " but go quickly, or I'll start you on 
 your way with my boot. I reckon you'll have 
 to get a writ from the court a writ of habeas 
 corpus before the sheriff will interfere. The 
 sheriff happens to be my brother. I would 
 like to call your attention to the door. You 
 can get out one at a time, I reckon, and that'll 
 be fast enough for me, if you hurry." 
 
 The strangers left the house, declaring that 
 they would soon return, armed by the law, 
 and would "show us." 
 
 What they intended to show us, we did not 
 know, but in a general way we supposed that 
 they meant they would take Mab away from 
 us. 
 
 That was a sad day at our house. Mab 
 wept nearly all afternoon, and clung to mother 
 and father, and to my sisters, with a piteous 
 appeal for protection. 
 
 Balser went home for the night; and next
 
 278 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 day we went back to the cabin, loaded our furs 
 on the sleigh, and abandoned our quarters for 
 the winter. If the strangers came again to 
 take Mab away, I wanted to be at home when 
 they arrived. 
 
 We lived that winter in constant dread of 
 losing Mab, but when winter turned to spring, 
 and spring to summer, we began to forget 
 our fear ; and by fall we had settled down to 
 the glad belief that she would not be taken 
 from us. 
 
 " Did you go back to get the bear ? " asked 
 a small boy. 
 
 " Indeed we did," answered Uncle Tom 
 Andy Bill. " It weighed nearly five hundred 
 pounds and was as fat as butter." 
 
 " Did you get his hide ? " asked the same 
 boy. 
 
 "Yes," answered Uncle Tom Andy Bill, 
 " and we gave it to Mab." 
 
 All the older members of Tom Andy Bill's 
 audience knew that Mab had been his one 
 and only sweetheart ; and there was not one 
 among us whose heart did not beat in sorrow 
 and throb with love for grand old Tom Andy 
 Bill, who had lived his long life true to his
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 279 
 
 one love, and would die with her image and 
 hers alone nestling in his heart of hearts. 
 
 Amidst the pictures of bears, robbers, 
 swamps, and caves that he had drawn for 
 our entertainment, I could see, towering 
 above all, the tall, strong figure, the black, 
 waving hair, the dark, grave eyes, glowing 
 with the light of a great soul, of our friend 
 and protector, Tom Andy Bill. He had 
 missed the best thing in life, the love 
 of the woman he loved, but he had known 
 plentifully the next best thing the world has 
 to offer* that is, the happiness one gives to 
 others. 
 
 " Wasn't it funny, Uncle Tom Andy Bill," 
 said Mab, " that her name was the same as 
 mine ? " 
 
 " No, it wasn't funny, sweetheart. It was 
 just sad." Tears sprang to the old man's 
 eyes, and they came to other eyes, too, as he 
 walked off to bed with Baby Mab clinging to 
 his finger.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 WYANDOTTE ONCE MORE 
 
 Balser and I spent the following winter 
 also in our cabin, and we had another fine lot 
 of furs, which wetookto Cincinnati just as soon 
 as the road was good. We received only one 
 hundred and twenty dollars for them, but 
 that was a great sum in those days. It looked 
 small to us, however, because we had always 
 in mind the dream of Wyandotte's treasure. 
 We had settled on one fact. The five chests 
 could not possibly contain less than five thou- 
 sand dollars, and that sum would make us 
 rich. 
 
 We had discussed the treasure so often, 
 and had talked about it so much between our- 
 selves, that we felt as if it were already ours, 
 and that, with a little patience, we would pos- 
 sess it. We had never mentioned the treasure 
 even to the folks at home. I confess that I 
 did tell Mab about it ; but the secret was as 
 safe with her as it was with me, and she was 
 
 280
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 281 
 
 very proud to feel that she was the only one 
 besides Balser and me who knew about it. 
 Of course, Balser didn't know that I had 
 told Mab. 
 
 I can't explain why we felt so sure of get- 
 ting the treasure, but this I know, that we 
 never doubted, even for one moment, that the 
 gold would one day be ours. 
 
 On the road to Cincinnati we were re- 
 ceived as heroes at the inns and taverns, and 
 were pointed out to strangers as the boys 
 who had broken up the Wolf gang two years 
 before. We could have stopped at any tavern 
 along the road without paying a cent for our 
 meals and lodging, but we loved to camp out. 
 We took our time going and returning, and 
 slept under the wagon every pleasant night. 
 
 The first evening out of Cincinnati, on our 
 way home, we camped on the banks of a 
 small river I think it was Whitewater. 
 Camping near us was an old man with a six- 
 ox team and an enormous schooner wagon. 
 A schooner wagon-bed was built high at 
 each end like the old-fashioned ships in 
 which Columbus crossed the sea, and would 
 hold nearly as much as one could store in a 
 small ship.
 
 282 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 When we reached Whitewater, we found 
 the old man trying to corral his oxen. An 
 ox is a very stupid brute, but when a fact 
 once penetrates his brain, it takes complete 
 possession of him. If he realizes that his 
 master has lost control of him, he is the most 
 stubborn, aggravating four-footed creature 
 that breathes. The old man's oxen had 
 broken loose, and he was in trouble. After 
 we had unhitched and fed our horses, we 
 hastened to our neighbor's assistance and 
 soon every ox was knee-haltered and reduced 
 to submission. 
 
 " Much obleeged," said the old man. " My 
 Indian ran away this noon, and I'm lame, as 
 you see. These fool oxen seem to know that 
 I can't manage them alone. I'd 'a' had a 
 powerful hard time if you boys hadn't come 
 to my help. Thank ye a heap. Like as not 
 ye'll be here in the morning, and mebbe I kin 
 git ye to help me yoke up. The oxen are 
 powerful fine critters, but they haven't been 
 worked for two months, and they're feelin' 
 their oats. Besides, as I said, they know I'm 
 alone. Reckon they won't be so frisky by 
 the time they git to Fort Chicago." 
 
 " Where is Fort Chicago ? " asked Balser.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 283 
 
 " It's 'way up on the lakes," answered the 
 old man. " I can't tell ye where it is 'zactly, 
 except that it's in Illinois and on the lake. I 
 'low it'll take me two months to git thar with 
 this load even if the roads keep good. If the 
 roads git bad, Lord only knows when I'll git 
 thar. I'm haulin' this load o' goods fer the 
 Astor Fur Company, so it's all right if I git 
 thar by winter, to have the goods thar in 
 time fer the trappers." 
 
 We invited the old man to eat supper with 
 us, and he was delighted with our fare. He 
 had nothing to eat but boiled beans and salt 
 pork, and he said he was so tired of it that 
 he dreaded the approach of meal-time. His 
 appetite was nothing like mine, or he would 
 have welcomed meal-time though he had 
 nothing but beans. 
 
 Next morning we helped our neighbor to 
 yoke up, and when we were about to leave 
 him, he said : 
 
 " I thank ye, boys, fer helpin' me. I hain't 
 got a piece o' money to my name or I'd pay 
 ye." 
 
 " We wouldn't think of taking a cent," said 
 Balser ; " but if you have no money, how will 
 you manage to travel so far ? "
 
 284 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " I carry my grub in the wagon," said he, 
 " and camp out, rain er shine. If I have to 
 buy anything, I trade goods fer it if I kin. 
 If I can't trade, I go without. If there's any- 
 thing I've got in the wagon that ye want, I'll 
 give it to ye, and welcome. Like as not, now, 
 ye'd like to have a little powder ? " 
 
 " We want nothing," I answered. 
 
 " How are you going to get along by your- 
 self with the oxen ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " Lord only knows. I don't," the old man 
 replied. " Mebbe I'll be able to find a man 
 along the road to go with me in place of the 
 one that run away, but it ain't likely. Fort 
 Chicago is so far, and men don't know nothin' 
 'bout the Fur Company, so they don't want 
 to risk workin' fer nothin', and findin' them- 
 selves broke so far away from home at the 
 end o' their job." 
 
 Balser and I loved the gypsy life along the 
 road, and after consulting together, we agreed 
 to offer the old fellow our help. Balser told 
 me to speak to him, so before we started, I 
 said: 
 
 " We'll stay with you till you reach Blue 
 River, and maybe you can find a man there 
 that will go the rest of the way."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 285 
 
 " I can't pay ye, boys, 'cept in goods," said 
 the old man, "and it would be mighty poor 
 pay, for the company only 'lows three bits a 
 day fer help fer this wagon, and that'll be 
 mighty little fer sech fine boys as ye be." 
 
 " I tell you, we don't want pay," said I. 
 
 " Well, then, I'll thank ye a heap more than 
 three bits a day," said our new friend. 
 
 We undertook a bigger job than we had 
 counted on, for the oxen moved like snails 
 compared with our horses, and we frequently 
 had to wait half a day for the old man to over- 
 take us; but we were in no hurry and enjoyed 
 loitering along the road, talking about the 
 treasure and camping out. The weather was 
 beautiful and the road was fine, but it took us 
 nearly a week to get to Blue River. 
 
 Before we reached home we had learned to 
 like the old man, and when one evening he 
 unyoked on the banks of Blue, we were 
 sorry to part from him. 
 
 We came down from home early next 
 morning and tried to find a man to go with 
 him, but after asking every idle fellow in the 
 village of Blue River, we returned to our 
 friend and told him that we had failed. 
 
 " I didn't 'low ye could find one," said
 
 286 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 the old man. " It's hard to git any one to 
 work fer the Fur Company 'cept Indians 
 and half breeds. The fellow that run away 
 from me was a half breed. His father was 
 a Frenchman and his mother was a Wyan- 
 dotte." 
 
 Balser and I sprang to our feet at the 
 word "Wyandotte" and asked in chorus : 
 
 " Where did you find him ? " 
 
 " I think he come from a tribe of Indians 
 that spent the winter out west o' Fort Chi- 
 cago somewhere. They say there's a bunch 
 o' Wyandottes among them the last o' the 
 tribe and I'm told that the old Wyandotte 
 chief is their chief." 
 
 Perhaps you think that Balser and I were 
 not excited. 
 
 " Tom Andy Bill, I want to speak to you ! " 
 Balser said. We went off to a little distance, 
 and he continued : " Here's our chance. Let's 
 go with the old man." 
 
 " Don't say a word," said I, which meant, 
 " I'm with you." 
 
 Then we went back to the old man, and I 
 acted as spokesman : 
 
 " You stay here till to-morrow and maybe 
 we'll go with you ! "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 287 
 
 " If ye will, I'll try to get the company to 
 double the wages," he answered, " and they 
 will pay you in cash when you git to Fort 
 Chicago." 
 
 Balser and I hurried home and told our 
 folks that we had an opportunity to go to 
 Fort Chicago with the old man at good 
 wages, and after considerable discussion dur- 
 ing the evening, they partially consented, 
 though our mothers did so very reluctantly. 
 
 Next morning Balser came down, and while 
 we were talking over the proposition with 
 father and mother, Mab didn't once take her 
 eyes off me. When it was settled that we 
 were to go, she left the room and went out 
 to the back porch. In a moment "or two I 
 followed, and found her crying. 
 
 " Are you crying, Mab ? " I asked. 
 
 " No-0-0," she answered, turning her face 
 from me. 
 
 " I'll not go if you want me to stay," I 
 said, hoping in my heart she would ask me 
 not to go. 
 
 " No, no, Tom Andy Bill," she replied, 
 turning toward me, careless of her tears. 
 " You must go. You must not think of 
 me. I would not stand in your way for a
 
 288 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 moment, and I know I am very foolish to 
 cry. But Nan and Betty and Sue are cry- 
 ing, and I don't see why I, too, can't cry." 
 
 " There is this difference, Mab," I an- 
 swered. " Your tears hurt me, burn me, and 
 I would not cause you one moment's grief 
 for anything in the world." 
 
 "Yes, I know, Tom Andy Bill. You are 
 always thinking of my happiness, and I'll 
 not cry any more. I'll I'll I'll be glad 
 that so good a chance has come to you. 
 I'm not crying now." But she was crying, 
 though she tried to laugh. 
 
 Soon my sisters came out to the porch, 
 and and well, the widespread misery I 
 was creating might have been considered a 
 luxury by some boys, for all my sisters were 
 sweet, beautiful girls, and Mab was without 
 a peer ; but their tears made me suffer. 
 
 " It's all off, girls, it's all off. I'll not go a 
 step ! " said I, tossing my hands in the air. 
 But then came a chorus of protests and tears 
 and a shower of kisses, kisses from all save 
 Mab, and I said I would go if they insisted 
 upon it. My sisters soon stopped crying, but 
 Mab could not stop, and Nan, good, tender, 
 motherly Nan, put her arm about her and
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 289 
 
 told her not to cry, that Tom Andy Bill 
 would be home again before long. 
 
 Mab answered between her sobs : " Yes, I 
 know he'll be back. I'm foolish, but I feel 
 something tells me that I'll never see 
 him again, and and oh, I'm so ashamed 
 of myself, but I can't help it, Nan, I can't 
 help it." 
 
 Balser was waiting for me at the gate, so 
 my sisters kissed me again, and I saw Nan 
 motion to Betty and Sue to. leave. When 
 they had gone into the house, Nan kissed me 
 and took Mab by the hand, saying, " Tom 
 Andy Bill is your brother, too, Mab." Then 
 she led her to me and hurried into the house, 
 and and well, I I can't tell you 
 about that 
 
 Balser and I found the old man waiting for 
 us, and he was overjoyed when we said we 
 would go with him. 
 
 At Cincinnati we had purchased two fine 
 saddles with enormous saddle-bags. We had 
 also bought two beautiful short-barrel, smooth- 
 bore guns, in which we could use either a 
 large bullet or bird shot. We each took a 
 vast store of ammunition, a fine woollen 
 blanket, a new buckskin suit, and an extra
 
 2QO UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 pair of boots. We rode a pair of fine horses, 
 and in fact we had an outfit good enough for 
 any dandy traveller. 
 
 It was the first week in May when we 
 started. We did not reach Fort Chicago till 
 the last week in June, and that was considered 
 a record-breaking trip. Chicago, at that time, 
 consisted of a few houses built in the midst 
 of the muddiest mud I ever saw. Soon after 
 we reached there, Balser and I began making 
 cautious inquiries about Indians. 
 
 Every day brought numbers of the redskins 
 to the Fur Company's quarters, and we con- 
 trived to question most of them about the 
 Wyandottes. We were always on our guard 
 when asking questions concerning the rem- 
 nant of the tribe, for our secret was so precious 
 we feared it would leak out with every 
 word we spoke. There was, of course, little 
 danger of our betraying our thoughts; but if 
 you will let five thousand dollars rest on your 
 mind for two or three years, to the exclusion 
 of everything else, you'll learn what a burden 
 gold really may be. 
 
 Balser and I had grown to be monoma- 
 niacs on the subject of the treasure, but Bal- 
 ser's affliction was more serious than mine. 

 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 291 
 
 He lived and breathed treasure, and dreamed 
 of it open-eyed and asleep. 
 
 The Fur Company paid us double wages, 
 as our old friend had promised, and we were 
 eager to get away and to learn the where- 
 abouts of the lost tribe of Wyandottes. 
 
 We had been waiting nearly a week at 
 Fort Chicago when, by the merest accident, 
 Balser stumbled upon an Indian who was 
 just leaving the fort. Balser addressed him 
 by the salutation we had learned from Wyan- 
 dotte, and the Indian, who was surprised and 
 seemed pleased, responded in the same tongue. 
 
 " Do you speak English ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " Leetle spik him," replied the Indian. 
 
 " Are you a Wyandottte ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " Yes, Wyandotte," he answered. 
 
 " I love Wyandotte," said Balser. " My 
 friend loves Wyandotte. We cry because 
 the Wyandottes were treated so cruelly by 
 the bad whites." 
 
 The Indian began to talk rapidly for an 
 Indian, and Balser invited him to the cabin 
 we were occupying on the skirts of the fort. 
 There we gave the Indian a few presents 
 and asked him where his tribe was. He 
 told us that the few remaining Wyandotte
 
 292 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Indians had joined with a band of Winneba- 
 goes that had come down from the north, and 
 that they were all living now in the prairies 
 west of Chicago, toward the great Father of 
 Waters, the Mississippi. 
 
 Balser and I were overjoyed at the news, 
 and told him we were going in that direc- 
 tion. We said he might travel with us if 
 he wished, and that we meant to stop with 
 his tribe for a while and would give them 
 presents. 
 
 We hastily saddled our horses, packed our 
 saddle-bags, and off we went with the Indian, 
 whose name was Broken Toe. 
 
 That night we camped in the prairie, feast- 
 ing on prairie hens. The next night we also 
 camped in the prairie, and Broken Toe told 
 us we should reach the Indian village next 
 day at " half sun," that is, noon. We knee- 
 haltered our horses, placed our saddle-bags, 
 guns, etc., under a waterproof canvas, rolled 
 ourselves in our blankets, and went to sleep. 
 
 When we awoke in the morning, Broken 
 Toe was missing. So were our horses, 
 saddles, saddle-bags, and guns. We were 
 left with nothing but our blankets and the 
 clothing we wore. The sky was overclouded,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 293 
 
 and we could not see the sun. We could 
 not tell east from west, nor north from south. 
 On every hand the flat, grass-covered prairie 
 was bounded only by the horizon. No ob- 
 ject of any sort broke the dead level as far as 
 our eyes could reach. We had not a mouth- 
 ful to eat, nor any means of procuring food. 
 When we awakened we were very hungry, 
 but the realization of our desperate condi- 
 tion drove all thoughts of breakfast from our 
 minds. 
 
 After gazing about us helplessly for a few 
 moments, Balser said : 
 
 " Now, what do you think of this ? " 
 
 " Don't say a word," I answered. " Let us 
 start in some direction, and we'll soon raise 
 something above the horizon." 
 
 We folded our blankets, threw them over 
 our shoulders, and prepared to march. 
 
 " Which way shall we go ? " asked Balser. 
 
 " I don't care, so that we get to moving in 
 some direction," I answered. " If we could 
 only see the sun for a moment, it would at 
 least be some satisfaction to know the points 
 of the compass. We are as badly lost here 
 in daylight as we were in the darkness of 
 the cave, but we have this advantage ; we
 
 294 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 can keep on going. Which way shall we 
 go?" 
 
 " We'll go with the wind," suggested Balser. 
 
 " That's the word," said I. 
 
 Balser tossed a handful of dry grass into 
 the air, and we started off with the wind. 
 Soon after we had started rain began to fall. 
 The rain made us very uncomfortable, and 
 we grumbled because our blankets and cloth- 
 ing were wet, but a man often finds fault with 
 the very thing he needs. 
 
 Before the rain we had been walking along 
 aimlessly; there was nothing to guide us. 
 But within an hour after the rain began, the 
 ground became soft, and soon we noticed the 
 tracks of two horses. Had the rain not 
 softened the soil, we could not have seen the 
 tracks, and we might have been wandering 
 over the boundless prairie yet. We knew 
 that the tracks we saw had been left by our 
 horses, for ours were shod, while the Indian's 
 horse never knows the luxury of a shoe. 
 
 The horse tracks gave us new life, and we 
 followed up the trail at a rapid walk. We 
 were growing very tired, when, toward even- 
 ing, I noticed on the horizon, almost in front 
 of us, a blue spiral of smoke. As the day
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 295 
 
 was misty and the atmosphere thick, I knew 
 the smoke could not be seen at a great dis- 
 tance; therefore I felt sure that within an 
 hour we should at least find fire, and where 
 fire is, man is not far distant. The smoke 
 rose higher and higher as we drew near it, 
 and before long we easily distinguished the 
 skin-covered tents or tepees of an Indian 
 village. 
 
 We had little fear of the Indians except 
 for the fact that they had stolen our horses 
 and might want to kill us to hide their theft. 
 We were soaked to the skin, almost starved, 
 and without means of getting food. We 
 were nearly exhausted, and had no choice 
 but to appeal to the Indians for help. We 
 therefore marched as boldly as possible right 
 into the village, though, to tell the truth, all 
 the boldness was on the outside and there 
 was a great deal of fear within. We both 
 wished ourselves well at home and once more 
 felt like cursing the Wyandotte treasure. 
 
 The first sight that greeted our eyes on 
 entering the village was our horses. The 
 second object we observed was a pack of 
 hungry-looking, vicious dogs that charged 
 down upon us with an evident eye to supper
 
 296 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 The barking of the dogs aroused the Indians, 
 and we were soon surrounded by half a hun- 
 dred men, women, and children, all talking, 
 shouting, and howling at once. In their 
 midst was Broken Toe, who seemed to be 
 their leader. The Indian men immediately 
 formed a ring about us, and began a most 
 disconcerting war-dance with two badly 
 frightened boys in the center. The war- 
 dance now meant death to us later on. 
 
 " We're goners this time," said Balser. 
 
 " Don't say a word," said I. 
 
 The Indians kept up their absurd dancing 
 and war-whoops, and soon their crazy antics 
 became amusing to me. I laughed, and 
 Balser said : 
 
 " For the Lord's sake, Tom Andy Bill, 
 don't laugh. Don't you know they're going 
 to kill us ? Do you see that red devil coming 
 on the jump with his tomahawk ? " 
 
 "Don't say a word," said I. " The Indians 
 will think none the less of us for laughing at 
 them. If a man laughs when he dies, he 
 takes all the sting out of death." 
 
 11 Good Lord, Tom Andy Bill, you freeze 
 my blood," said Balser. " There comes an- 
 other fiend with a knife as long as my arm."
 
 " III MADE A THRUST AT MI AS II KB INTENDED TO HIDE HIS 
 KNIFE-BLADE IN MY BODY "
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 297 
 
 The Indian with the long knife sprang 
 howling into the circle, and made a thrust at 
 me as if he intended to hide his knife-blade 
 in my body. I didn't flinch. I laughed at 
 him. Then a double-jointed giant sprang in 
 front of Balser and raised his murderous-look- 
 ing tomahawk above his head. I thought 
 Balser's hour had come at last, but I said : 
 
 " Don't say a word. Laugh." 
 
 Balser didn't look as if he wanted to laugh, 
 but he sent forth a peal that was a pretty good 
 imitation of the real thing. 
 
 Indians don't laugh, therefore they don't 
 fully understand the meaning of laughter. 
 In a dim way they seem to comprehend that 
 it means, "Do your worst; I don't care a 
 straw ! " and of all the sentiments a man can 
 express, the Indian respects that most. 
 
 Presently another Indian sprang in front 
 of me, and with a demoniac howl flourished 
 his tomahawk above my head. I laughed at 
 him and waved him off with a turn of my 
 hand, as if to say, " Oh, stop your foolishness !" 
 when he joined the howling jumping-jacks 
 that surrounded us. 
 
 After the men had danced about us till they 
 were tired, they gave way to the squaws, who
 
 298 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 formed another circle. One old hag left the 
 ring and spat upon me. I laughed and spat 
 back at her, as if we were playing a game at 
 a frolic. 
 
 The Indian's most expressive and useful 
 word is a grunt, " Ugh? It may mean anger, 
 disgust, assent, refusal, and on rare occasions 
 it is used to express the meagre sensation of 
 amusement they sometimes feel. A strong 
 emotion of joy, or a feeling of what we would 
 call amusement, the Indian expresses, if at all, 
 in howls, whoops, and shouts. While the old 
 hag and I were playing our little game, I dis- 
 tinctly heard several Indian men give utter- 
 ance to the grunt " Ugh." 
 
 I was more or less familiar with the various 
 intonations of the sound and could imper- 
 fectly guess at their significance, as one may 
 learn the different meanings of a dog's bark, 
 so I gathered that our little game had, in 
 a way, amused the bucks. After dancing 
 about us for ten minutes, the squaws fell 
 upon Balser and me and stripped us of most 
 of our clothing. They took our blankets, 
 hats, coats, and shoes, and left us only our 
 trousers. Then they ran away, grunting 
 and cackling.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 299 
 
 After we had stood alone for the space of 
 three or four minutes, I noticed a dozen war- 
 riors coming toward us, as if they were trying 
 to steal upon their prey. Broken Toe was 
 in the lead. I also noticed that two of the 
 men carried in their hands, behind them, lar- 
 iats or ropes of leather. At first, I thought 
 they intended to hang us, but I soon called 
 to mind the fact that Indians never inflict 
 death by hanging. I also reflected that there 
 was not a tree in sight, and I knew there was 
 not enough timber within a radius of twenty 
 miles to build a scaffold. I therefore con- 
 cluded that the redskins were stealing upon 
 us for the purpose of overpowering us by a 
 sudden attack, and binding our hands and 
 feet. 
 
 " Good-by, Tom Andy Bill," said Balser, 
 dolefully ; " they're going to hang us." 
 
 " Don't you believe it," I answered hur- 
 riedly ; " I wasn't born to be hung. They 
 mean to throw us to the ground and then 
 bind us. Let's save them part of the trouble." 
 
 When the Indians approached, I walked 
 toward them, holding my arms extended and 
 my wrists together, ready to be bound. The 
 Indians stopped, but I continued to go toward
 
 3 oo UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 them, holding out my wrists for the lariat 
 I stopped in front of one of the men with 
 the ropes, and Balser stopped in front of 
 the other. Our conduct inspired a series of 
 grunts. 
 
 " Ugh, ugh, ugh," in all its inflections fell 
 upon our ears. We could not interpret the 
 grunts, but presently Broken Toe made a 
 sign to the men with the lariats, and they 
 proceeded to bind our wrists. When this 
 pleasing job was finished, I stepped up to 
 Broken Toe and spoke the one word 
 " Friend " ; but he grunted a contemptuous 
 " Ugh," and touched his knife significantly. 
 
 I waited for thirty seconds, and then I said : 
 " Hungry. Eat. Drink." Again a chorus 
 of grunts greeted us, and all the Indians be- 
 gan to talk at once. We could not under- 
 stand what they were saying, but it was 
 evident they were arguing the question of 
 our fate. Some of the Indians apparently 
 wanted to befriend us; but Broken Toe, 
 being the one who had stolen our horses, 
 seemed to oppose all kindly intentions. 
 After a great deal of grunting and talking, 
 Broken Toe made an angry gesture, accom- 
 panied by some words of command. There-
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 301 
 
 upon two Indians took charge of Balser, and 
 two grasped my arms. Broken Toe walked 
 off toward the other end of the village, and 
 we were forced to follow. We soon came 
 to an open space surrounded by tepees, and 
 there one of the Indians said in English, "Sit 
 down." 
 
 We gladly obeyed, for we were very tired. 
 The thongs of leather were removed from 
 our wrists ; our arms were bent behind us, and 
 in that position we were tied. Then the 
 Indians bound our ankles. The brutes drew 
 the lariats so tight that I saw blood spurt 
 from Balser's wrists, and felt blood trickling 
 down my hands behind me. 
 
 "Curse the brutes," cried Balser. "I'll 
 never again say a good word for an Indian. 
 I'm almost dead now. If they are going to 
 kill us, I wish they'd do it at once." 
 
 " Don't say a word," said I. " While there's 
 life there's hope, and I'll bet you my half of 
 Wyandotte's treasure that we'll get out of 
 this all right. Brace up, old fellow, and 
 laugh. Make the red devils think that the 
 lariat tickles you ! " 
 
 I began to whistle, though it was pretty 
 hard work, and when the Indians turned to
 
 3 o2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 look at me in wonder, I spoke to Balser, 
 laughing as if it were all a huge joke. Bal- 
 ser, too, laughed, and I called to Broken Toe, 
 saying : 
 
 "I'm hungry, give me something to eat; 
 and I'm thirsty, give me something to drink ! " 
 
 But soon the Indians left us, and when they 
 had gone, I thought I was going to collapse. 
 As usual, I was brave when some one was 
 looking on. I do believe I should have cried 
 if Balser had crooked his finger at me, but he 
 couldn't do it, being bound; so I soon began 
 to whistle to keep my courage up. Balser 
 began to groan, but I checked him, saying : 
 
 " Be game, Balser, be game ! You've got 
 to die sometime. If you die now, it will 
 save you the trouble later on. Always finish 
 a bad job as soon as possible." 
 
 " I don't mind for myself," he answered, 
 almost ready for tears, " but I'm thinking of 
 how poor mother will wait and grieve for me 
 through all the years of her life. She will 
 never know my fate ; neither will your mother 
 nor Mab ever know." 
 
 " Ah, Balser, please don't ! don't ! I had 
 worked myself into fine shape, but the thought 
 of Mab and my mother oh! don't, don't!
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 303 
 
 You mustn't think of such things now. 
 Drive such thoughts out of your mind, and 
 we'll show these demons how to die. That's 
 the one thing they know better how to do 
 than we." 
 
 " But I don't want to know how," answered 
 Balser. 
 
 "Well, you'll know before long, if I'm not 
 mistaken, so laugh while you can, for the time 
 will soon come when you'll laugh no more. 
 I don't know how they're going to kill us, 
 but it does look dark for us. However, I'll 
 stick to my bet, and I'll wager my half of the 
 treasure that we get out of the scrape yet. 
 There's no use taking the darker view of it 
 until there's no other view to take, and I'm 
 sorry I said you would not have long to 
 laugh. You have many a laugh ahead of 
 you yet, Balser. Cheer up ! Cheer up, and 
 take my wager." 
 
 " Tom Andy Bill, I believe you're crazy," 
 said Balser, " but if you are, I wish I could 
 go crazy, too, or that these redskins would 
 hurry up and finish us." 
 
 We were sitting on the ground, bound 
 hand and foot, and of course could not rise. 
 
 Balser had hardly finished speaking when
 
 3 o4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 two old squaws came toward us, one bearing 
 a bucket of water and the other carrying a 
 pan of cornmeal mush. They placed the 
 bucket and the pan on the ground, and kneel- 
 ing close beside us, teasingly offered first the 
 water and then the mush ; but our hands being 
 bound, we could take neither. This evidently 
 was great sport to the hags, for they grunted 
 and cackled gleefully. They had no inten- 
 tion of giving us food, but evidently had been 
 sent by Broken Toe to torment us. 
 
 In the pan of mush was a great wooden 
 spoon. One of the squaws, dipping out a 
 spoonful of mush, held it toward my mouth. 
 I leaned forward to take the mush, but when 
 my lips touched it, I found that it was scald- 
 ing hot, and quickly drew away. This also 
 seemed to amuse the hags ; and to make the 
 joke doubly funny, she thrust the hot mush 
 in my face. The pain was excruciating, but 
 I laughed. I had made up my mind that I 
 would not give these red demons the satis- 
 faction of knowing I could suffer pain. 
 
 Just as the old hag thrust the mush in my 
 face, several men approached. The humor- 
 ous squaw was kneeling near my feet and the 
 pan of mush was just behind her. I con-
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 305 
 
 tinued to laugh, but I wanted to kill the old 
 she-devil ; so I lifted my feet, and as if I were 
 carrying out the joke, kicked her in the face 
 and she fell backward. My part of the jest 
 proved better than I had hoped, for she 
 quickly stretched out her hand to keep from 
 falling backward, and put it in the hot mush. 
 Then a howl went up that might have been 
 heard all over the village. It was the sweet- 
 est note I ever heard come from an Indian's 
 lips, and I laughed in real earnest. In a 
 moment the squaw was upon me, belaboring 
 my head with the wooden spoon ; but one of 
 the men whom I fancied had spoken in our 
 behalf when we first entered the village came 
 to my rescue, thrust her violently from me, 
 gave her two or three kicks, and sent her 
 about her business. 
 
 The Indian spoke to the other squaw, and 
 she poured a little of the water into the mush 
 to cool it. She then held the rim of the 
 bucket to our lips, and we drank. I tell you, 
 the delicious ecstasy one finds in a drink of 
 water is well worth a day of thirst. After 
 we had drunk our fill, the squaw fed us the 
 mush and we felt much better. When we 
 had eaten, we were left to ourselves.
 
 3 o6 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 Soon after the sun had gone down, we 
 heard in another part of the village a faint, 
 low chant rising and falling with the gusts of 
 wind. 
 
 " That chant is our funeral song," said 
 Balser. 
 
 I feared he was right, but I tried to think 
 of something else, though with little success. 
 Presently we saw the light of a fire a short 
 distance off. 
 
 " There comes a man with an armful of 
 wood," said Balser. " And there comes an- 
 other ! I do believe the red devils are going 
 to burn us ! " 
 
 " Don't saya word," said I, trying to whistle, 
 but it did look very much as if he were 
 right. 
 
 Within less than ten minutes after we saw 
 the fire, the men came howling and bounding 
 into the open space that surrounded Balser 
 and me. The redskins were in full war paint 
 and feathers. Some of them had their arms 
 full of wood, which they threw down within 
 ten yards of where Balser and I lay. 
 Presently a buck ran back to the fire we had 
 first seen, and soon returned, waving on high 
 a burning brand. As he passed us, he thrust
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 307 
 
 it in Balser's face, and would have burned 
 him had he not quickly fallen backward. 
 
 " Laugh," I whispered. Balser laughed, 
 but I never want to hear another laugh like 
 that. 
 
 Soon the redskins had a great fire blazing 
 in front of us. When it was well under way, 
 they formed a circle about us and began to 
 whoop and howl and dance. The glow of 
 the fire on the painted faces of the Indians 
 made them look like demons, and the lights 
 and shadows dancing about like infernal imps 
 made the place look like a scene from the 
 very depths of the inferno. 
 
 The men danced and howled for a long time, 
 perhaps for half an hour, and judging from 
 the preparations they were making with the 
 fire, I felt sure they were getting ready to 
 burn us, and would soon have us roasting on 
 a bed of coals. 
 
 I said to Balser : " I withdraw that bet. 
 It will soon be all over, old boy, but die like 
 a man. Game is the word." 
 
 " Don't fear for me," he answered ; " I am 
 ready. The devils can't begin too soon." 
 
 Hardly had he spoken when four Indians 
 rushed in upon us, lifted us rudely to our feet,
 
 308 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 and began to drag us toward the great bed of 
 coals. When we came within twenty feet of 
 the fire, the Indians stopped. During the 
 little space of time in which we were being 
 dragged toward the fire, I happened to think 
 of the name " Monyomo." When the men 
 who had us in charge paused, the howling of 
 the redskins ceased, and a brief silence en- 
 sued; then I lifted my face toward the sky 
 and shouted the words : " Wyandotte Wy- 
 olyo ! ! Monyomo ! ! " 
 
 The result was magical, and I saw the In- 
 dians start and look toward me in surprise. 
 I thought if a little was good, a great deal 
 was better, so lifting my head and looking 
 toward the sky, I again called out in long- 
 drawn syllables : 
 
 " Wy an dotte Wy ol yo ! ! Mon- 
 yo-o-o-mo-o ! ! " 
 
 After a long pause I again made my in- 
 cantation. When I ceased the men drew 
 away from us to a short distance, speaking 
 in hushed, awe-stricken voices the words 
 " Wyandotte Wyolyo Wyandotte Wyolyo." 
 Broken Toe seemed to insist upon burning 
 us, but others opposed him. After a long 
 consultation, two of them ran toward a large
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 309 
 
 tepee standing perhaps a hundred yards dis- 
 tant from us. Soon they came running back 
 and said something to the other Indians. 
 Immediately the thongs were removed from 
 our ankles, and one of the Indians said, 
 " Come." He started toward the large tepee, 
 and we gladly followed, with Broken Toe 
 grumbling at our heels. When we reached 
 the wigwam, Broken Toe and another Indian 
 entered with us, and there, by the dim light 
 of a small torch, we saw our old friend Wy- 
 andotte lying on a blanket. 
 
 " Tomandybilladdison?" asked Wyandotte, 
 in a weak voice. 
 
 " Yes," I answered. 
 
 " Balserbrent ? " the old Indian asked, and 
 Balser said : 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Wyandotte lay still for a moment ; then he 
 said something in the Indian language, and 
 Broken Toe held the torch, first to my face, 
 then to Balser's. The old man rose to his 
 elbow, waved his hand to Broken Toe, and 
 said, " Ugh ! " 
 
 My ears, sharpened by every instinct I 
 possessed, caught the intonation of the word, 
 and in some mysterious way I seemed to
 
 3 io UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 know that our lives were saved if Wyandotte 
 could save them. 
 
 " We're all right," I whispered aside to 
 Balser, and turning to Wyandotte, I in- 
 quired : " Are you sick, Wyandotte ? " 
 
 " Yes ; to die," answered the old Indian, 
 falling back upon his bed. He was almost 
 exhausted by the effort he had made ; but 
 after he had regained a little strength, he 
 spoke to the Indians, and the thongs were re- 
 moved from our wrists. My hands were life- 
 less, and I feared that I should never again 
 be able to use them. I could not have lifted 
 a straw from the ground. 
 
 We waited anxiously for Wyandotte to 
 speak; and by and by he said, pointing to 
 Broken Toe, who was standing just inside 
 the tepee door : 
 
 " Broken Toe stole your horses ? " 
 
 "Yes," I answered. 
 
 " Your guns ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Your saddles ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Going to kill ye, maybe ? " asked the old 
 Indian. 
 
 " Yes," I answered.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 311 
 
 " That man ? " he asked, pointing again to 
 Broken Toe. 
 
 " Yes. He directed the preparations to 
 burn us," I responded. 
 
 Wyandotte's eyes glistened, and after a 
 great effort he rose again to a sitting posture 
 in his bed, uttering the one word, " Gun." 
 
 Broken Toe handed the old man his gun 
 and stepped back toward the door of the tepee 
 with the look of a frightened wolf in his face. 
 Wyandotte examined the gun for a moment, 
 and deliberately lifted it to his shoulder. A 
 flash and a report startled us, and Broken 
 Toe lay dead at the feet of his chief. 
 
 Wyandotte put the gun beside him on the 
 ground, lay down on his blanket, and said, 
 speaking to me : 
 
 " Go. Wyandotte see you to-morrow." 
 
 We stepped over the still quivering body 
 of Broken Toe, and walked out of Wyandotte's 
 tepee with a new lease of life. 
 
 Just outside the tepee we found a score of 
 Indian men standing about in silence. They 
 had discarded their war feathers, and looked 
 like a pack of crestfallen, cowardly wolves. 
 The fellow that had us in charge spoke a few 
 words to the others, and conducted us to a
 
 3 i2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 tepee near by. The inmates of the wigwam 
 were turned out, and we were put in posses- 
 sion. Our clothing, blankets, saddles, saddle- 
 bags, guns, and ammunition were all brought 
 into the tent, and within half an hour a 
 young squaw brought us two broiled prairie 
 hens, a pan of corn pone, and a bucket of 
 water. These she placed before us and took 
 her leave. 
 
 "The following morning we saw Wyandotte, 
 but I'll tell you about that to-morrow even- 
 ing," said Tom Andy Bill. 
 
 " Please tell us about it now, Uncle Tom," 
 pleaded Mab. 
 
 " Bless your life, sweetheart," he answered, 
 " you can hardly keep your eyes open now." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I can," answered Mab. " I'll not 
 be able to close them this night for thinking 
 of those awful Indians and the way they 
 treated you." She nervously grasped the 
 favorite finger, and continued : " Oh, but I am 
 glad I have you ! You shall never, never 
 any more go where I can't see you. I'll stay 
 awake all night, watching you through the 
 door for fear something will get you. I know 
 I can't sleep a wink."
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 313 
 
 " Yes, you will, honey," the old man an- 
 swered, rising to his feet. " I'll kiss your 
 eyelids and speak a charm a sure charm 
 that I know, and you can't help going to 
 sleep." Then the two children, one a 
 child in years, the other a child in heart, 
 hand in hand, went off to bed. 
 
 I remained before the fire long after the 
 rest of the audience had departed, and pres- 
 ently there came to me over the bedroom 
 transom, the deep, clear voice of Tom Andy 
 Bill, speaking the charm as softly as a mother 
 coos to her babe : 
 
 " Sandman, banish tears and sighs, 
 Sandman Sandman, close Mab's eyes." 
 
 I sat musing while the soft tones of the 
 deep voice and the music of the couplet hung 
 in my ears, and presently I heard a baby 
 voice calling : 
 
 " The charm is a good one one Uncle 
 Tom Andy Bill. I'm almost al-most 
 a-a-a-" But only the sandman heard the 
 sweet word " sleep."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 SEARCH FOR THE TREASURE 
 
 Our hands and fingers were so numb and 
 lifeless that we could hardly put on our cloth- 
 ing ; but we helped each other, and after a 
 great deal of hard work, mingled with abuse 
 of the Indians, we dressed ourselves. We 
 tried to eat, but that, too, was a difficult task, 
 for we could hardly hold the wing of a prairie 
 hen between our fingers. But we managed 
 to satisfy our hunger, and then we lay down 
 and tried to get a little rest. All night long 
 we suffered greatly from our hands, but to- 
 ward morning the blood began to circulate 
 through our fingers, and life returned, little 
 by little. 
 
 When we came out from our tepee, we 
 saw our horses hitched to stakes before the 
 door. We soon met several Indian men and 
 women, but they were as meek as whipped 
 curs and did not look us in the face. Our 
 breakfast of prairie hen was brought to our
 
 \\l |AW (Hk HORSES HITCHKI) TO STAKES BEFORE THE DOOR"
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 315 
 
 tent, and we were treated with every con- 
 sideration. 
 
 After breakfast our great task was to be 
 undertaken. The object of our long, hard 
 journey was to be gained or lost. Our dreams 
 were to be realized or were to vanish, as a 
 cloud dissolves upon the fathomless blue. So 
 far as I was concerned, either result would be 
 better than the dreaming uncertainty we had 
 lived in for so long. It is true the dreams 
 were sweet, but they kept us in a state of 
 frothy excitement, and we had been unable 
 to think seriously of anything but the phan- 
 tom gold since we first heard of it. Now 
 the phantom would materialize or fade away 
 soon after we entered Wyandotte's tepee, and 
 we intended to enter it just as soon as we 
 had swallowed breakfast. Now that the story 
 of the treasure was coming to an end, we 
 would not endure the suspense longer than 
 was actually necessary. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast we started for 
 Wyandotte's tepee, and found the old man 
 lying where we had left him the night before. 
 
 " Good morning, Wyandotte," said I. 
 
 " Ugh," he answered feebly. 
 
 " Are you feeling badly ? " I asked.
 
 316 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " Ugh," he responded, and I knew he 
 meant "yes." 
 
 " I wish I could help you," I said. " Have 
 you pain ? " 
 
 " Heap pain here," he replied, placing his 
 hand on his breast. 
 
 " If you will send an Indian with us to the 
 nearest town, we will send you medicine to 
 stop the pain," I suggested, feeling very sorry 
 for the poor old fellow. 
 
 " No medicine will stop it," he said con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 "Yes, Wyandotte," I insisted. "We will 
 send you a medicine that will ease the pain. 
 It will not cure you, but it will give you rest. 
 It is far better than fire-water." 
 
 " Ugh ! " he answered, which in this in- 
 stance signified consent and doubt. After a 
 long pause, he said : " Tomandybilladdison 
 wants the gold. No get it." 
 
 " I do want the treasure," I answered, 
 very earnestly and quietly, "if you want me 
 to have it. But if you want it to remain hid- 
 den forever in the cave, of no use to any one, 
 I haven't a word to say. We helped you and 
 you helped us, so the debt is even. The treas- 
 ure is nothing to you. It is a great deal to
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 317 
 
 us, but if you are like the dog in the manger, 
 that won't eat and won't let any one else eat, 
 we must go away and let you die with the 
 secret in your heart. 
 
 " You will be sorry when it is too late," I 
 continued, " that you did not tell us where 
 the treasure is. When you are about to die, 
 you will wish you had told us, and ' too late ' 
 is a sad death song for a man to sing. It is 
 like a sun that never shines, like the rain 
 that never falls, like the flower that never 
 blooms, like the bird that never flies, like the 
 man that never lives. The man who dies with it 
 on his lips turns over in his grave and moans 
 out the sad, sad words, ' Too late, too late ! ' 
 and they spoil even his pleasure in the happy 
 hunting ground." 
 
 Wyandotte turned away from us, and we 
 sat upon the ground waiting for him to speak. 
 We knew we could neither bribe nor coax 
 the secret from him. After a long silence, I 
 said : 
 
 " You love us and we love you. I know 
 you would rather we should have the treas- 
 ure than that any one else should get it." 
 I paused, but he gave no sign that he had 
 heard me, and I continued : " Is there any
 
 3 i8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 one else you wish should have it ? If there is, 
 we will be glad to tell them anything that 
 you say to us, and we will, if you wish, take 
 them to the treasure and give it all to them. 
 You know that Tom Andy Bill never lies." 
 
 There was no response. I was almost 
 ready to abandon the effort, but I tried 
 again : 
 
 " Others of your tribe probably know where 
 the treasure is, and when you are dead, they 
 will sell the secret to white men for a bottle 
 of fire-water. You will never get the treasure, 
 and unless there is some one else you wish 
 should have it, you might as well tell us where 
 and how to find it." 
 
 My object in putting the question in this 
 way was to learn if any other Indian pos- 
 sessed the precious secret. If so, I might be 
 able to buy it. Wyandotte did not immedi- 
 ately answer my question, but after a long, 
 trying pause, he said : 
 
 11 No one knows but Monyomo." 
 
 My heart sank, for I felt that the secret of 
 the treasure would go to the grave with the 
 old man who lay dying before us. 
 
 Balser and I talked to Wyandotte on many 
 subjects, and asked a great number of ques-
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 319 
 
 tions, bearing directly or indirectly upon the 
 treasure, but we received no response. At 
 times we thought him asleep or dead, but 
 now and then he coughed or moved. Aside 
 from these manifestations of life, we might 
 as well have been talking to a log. When 
 we had abandoned all hope of making him 
 talk, we sat beside his bed in silence for at 
 least an hour. Suddenly he turned toward 
 us and said angrily : 
 
 " Tomandybilladdison, better go 'way 
 better go 'way from Indians. If Monyomo 
 die, Indians kill Tomandybilladdison sure. 
 Monyomo die soon." 
 
 We felt that both statements were true. It 
 was evident that Wyandotte could not live 
 long; and we were sure beyond a possible 
 doubt that two white boys would quickly 
 follow him into the dark if they remained 
 until after he was dead. 
 
 I waited for a minute or two after he had 
 spoken, and then I said, speaking gently : 
 
 " You are right, Wyandotte. We must go 
 before you die, or your friends will certainly 
 kill us. May your god and our God help 
 you. Good -by, Wyandotte. Shake hands 
 with us. We want you to die knowing that
 
 320 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 at least two white boys love you and are 
 your friends." 
 
 He reluctantly gave his hand to us in fare- 
 well, and we started toward the door of the 
 tepee, saying : 
 
 " Send an Indian with us, Wyandotte, and 
 we will give him medicine to ease your pain. 
 Our medicine men call it opium, and I give 
 you my word that you will have no pain if 
 you take it. It will not cure you of your 
 disease, but I promise you it will give you 
 rest. It is like fire-water, but much better." 
 
 " Wyandotte will not tell you where the 
 gold is," said the stubborn old Indian. 
 
 " No," I answered, " I don't ask you to tell 
 us. That's all over, and you've had your way 
 about it." 
 
 " You send the medicine that is better than 
 fire-water anyway ? " he asked. 
 
 " I promise to send it, and I promise you 
 that it is better than fire-water and will ease 
 your pain, and you know that the voice of 
 Tom Andy Bill Addison is always the voice 
 of truth. He speaks no empty words. Good- 
 by, Wyandotte." 
 
 " Good-by, Wyandotte," said Balser. 
 
 We were passing out of the tepee slowly,
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 321 
 
 regretfully, leaving behind us our sweet 
 dream of gold, when the old man cried out 
 hoarsely : 
 
 " Come back, Tomandybilladdison ! " 
 
 Balser started back hurriedly, but I checked 
 him, and we returned slowly to the Indian's 
 bedside. Wyandotte was struggling to rise 
 in his bed, and we helped him. He sat for a 
 moment, coughing violently, but when the 
 fit had passed, he pointed to a box, saying, 
 " Bring." 
 
 Balser placed it by the bedside, and the old 
 man, taking a key from a string that hung 
 about his neck, began to unlock the box. I 
 felt that our dream of gold, which had al- 
 most vanished in thin air, was about to be 
 realized, and I trembled as a leaf shakes 
 when the east wind breathes upon it. Balser, 
 too, was pale and showed his agitation. 
 
 " Don't say a word," I whispered under my 
 breath. 
 
 Wyandotte's weak hands trembled piteously 
 and I thought he would never be able to 
 open the box, but he finally turned the key 
 and lifted the lid. From the box he took a 
 roll of buckskin, and from the buckskin he 
 took a smaller roll of parchment. With
 
 322 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 trembling hands, he stretched the parchment 
 on the blanket before him, and told me to 
 hold it in place. I at once knew it was a 
 rude map of the cave. He pointed to a spot 
 on the map and said : 
 
 " There ! " 
 
 I examined it very carefully, but the map 
 was so poorly drawn that I could make 
 nothing of the marks and lines, and told him 
 so. 
 
 " Tell us how we may find the cave, Wyan- 
 dotte," said I, speaking gently and almost 
 tenderly to the old man, for I did feel sorry 
 for him. 
 
 " Go to the town where the fathers of the 
 white people live where they have a big 
 talking house," he answered, speaking slowly 
 and reluctantly. To give up the secret of his 
 life was almost as hard to the Indian as to 
 give up life itself. A painful silence followed, 
 and I thought he was going to speak no 
 more, but presently he continued : " Go west 
 from that town, walking- slowly from sun-up 
 till half-noon. There see a narrow river be- 
 tween high banks, flowing west. Go down 
 the river till river turns south at a stony hill 
 like the half of an egg. Go up hill. Go
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 323 
 
 over hill, over middle of top. Go down hill 
 in middle of hill halfway, till you see big 
 rock, with arrow cut near the ground on 
 south side of rock. Arrow points to cave. 
 Two toes, two hands walk." (Forty steps 
 away.) 
 
 " What is the name of the town, Wyan- 
 dotte ? " I asked. 
 
 44 No know name of white man's town," he 
 answered ; 44 half-sun walk from river." 
 
 44 From the Ohio River ? " I asked. 
 
 44 Ugh," he answered, and I supposed he 
 meant "yes," though I was not at all sure. 
 
 We questioned him about the cave, but 
 could learn nothing more definite than I have 
 told you. In fact, it seemed that we had 
 learned nothing at all. 
 
 44 Are there many caves within the cave ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 He spread his hands apart as far as his 
 arms could reach, meaning to say, Indian 
 fashion, that there were so many he could 
 not tell their number. 
 
 44 Your map is not clear to us," I said. 
 44 Won't you tell me how we may know the 
 room in which the treasure is concealed ? " 
 
 He thought for a moment, and answered :
 
 324 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " Ask in every cave. Ask the god Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo. Say to him, ' Gold, gold, gold,' and 
 when you come to the right cave he will an- 
 swer. There is but one cave in which he lives. 
 There is but one room in which he will answer 
 your question. The gold is on top of a 
 devil's head." 
 
 He fell back upon the bed, handed me the 
 map, and uttered the one word, " Go." 
 
 We could not induce Wyandotte to speak 
 again, so after a half-hour spent in fruitless 
 endeavor to learn more accurately the situa- 
 tion of the cave and the exact spot in which 
 the gold was buried, we again said good-by, 
 and left, taking the map with us. 
 
 We told an Indian that Wyandotte wanted 
 some one to go with us to the nearest town, 
 and the fellow went in to see the chief. 
 When the Indian came back, he directed a 
 young man to go with us, and five minutes 
 later we were riding in a southeasterly di- 
 rection over the prairie, both glad and sorry 
 to leave. 
 
 The Indian that accompanied us rode an 
 active pony and we travelled rapidly. Neither 
 Balser nor I mentioned the treasure in the 
 presence of our companion.
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 325 
 
 Before sundown that night we reached a 
 small town and stopped at the tavern. We 
 immediately sought a physician and told him 
 what we wanted for Wyandotte. The physi- 
 cian prepared a large number of doses of 
 opium and directed the Indian concerning 
 their use. After supper the Indian started 
 on his return trip, and never from that day 
 to this have I seen a Wyandotte, and never 
 again do I want to see one. 
 
 Balser and I agreed not to mention the 
 treasure in any house, nor near any man, 
 woman, or child. After supper we walked 
 out in the prairie to discuss our marvellous 
 adventure, and to talk over the meagre in- 
 formation we had obtained concerning the 
 treasure. 
 
 " We're not much better off than when we 
 started from Blue River," said I. " Wyan- 
 dotte's town, where the fathers of the white 
 people live, is rather a vague metropolis, and 
 his directions to ask the god, Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo, about the gold is nothing but idiotic 
 nonsense. He might as well have told us to 
 ask the wind. He said the gold was on a 
 devil's head. It's all in his own head; I be- 
 lieve he's crazy. I'm beginning to think that
 
 326 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 we, too, are growing 'lurry,' and that there 
 is no treasure at all." 
 
 " Well, you had better begin to think 
 again," answered Balser, in an injured tone, 
 " for there is a treasure and we will find it. 
 Wyandotte told us where it is just as accu- 
 rately as the poor, ignorant old savage could 
 describe the place. All we have to do is to 
 understand what he said. If we can't find 
 his meaning, we don't deserve to find the 
 gold." 
 
 " But you don't suppose his god will an- 
 swer us ? " I asked indignantly ; " or that a 
 devil is going to bend his head for our in- 
 spection ? " 
 
 "Of course I don't," he replied. "That's 
 not what Wyandotte meant. He meant some- 
 thing else, and that something else is what we 
 must discover." 
 
 " Well, you discover it," I retorted, growing 
 angry at Balser's stubbornness. " I'm ready 
 to admit that it is beyond the scope of my 
 feeble intellect. While you're on your voyage 
 of discovery into this realm of dreams, you 
 might try your hand, or your brain, on the 
 question, ' Where is the town where the 
 fathers of the white people live ? ' It's in the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 327 
 
 clouds, I tell you, and I'm disgusted with it 
 all. I'm going to quit dreaming about 
 the gold, and I'm going to work to clear the 
 ground and make a farm for myself. The 
 gold has brought us to death's door twice. 
 The third time will be the charm, and we'll 
 die some miserable death because we have 
 been fools enough to listen to the tale of a 
 crazy old Indian." 
 
 " I'm surprised at you, Tom Andy Bill," 
 said Balser, indignantly, walking away toward 
 the town. 
 
 We went to bed early, and you may be sure 
 we were asleep soon after our tired bodies 
 struck the bed. In the middle of the night 
 I was awakened by some one shaking me. 
 It was Balser. 
 
 " What's the matter? " I asked. 
 
 He put his mouth to my ear and whis- 
 pered, " I know the town." 
 
 " Of course you do," I answered, with fine 
 irony, "and you'll recognize the voice of 
 Wyandotte Wyolyo when he answers your 
 question, and of course you will know the 
 devil with the gold on top of his head as soon 
 as you see him." 
 
 " But I do know it," insisted Balser. " The
 
 328 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 town where the fathers of the white people 
 live, and where they have a big talking house,' 
 is Corydon, the old capital of Indiana. 
 Wyandotte referred to the Governor and to 
 the legislature when he spoke of ' the fathers 
 of the white people,' and the capitol building 
 is ' the big talking house.' " 
 
 " By George, you're right, Balser," I ex- 
 claimed aloud. " Just as sure as you're alive, 
 you're right ! You're no fool, Balser ! I wish- 
 I had one-tenth your brains." 
 
 He put his hand over my mouth, and 
 again whispered, " Let's get up and go out 
 on the prairie." 
 
 We arose, dressed hurriedly, and walked 
 some distance out of town into the open 
 prairie, where we could speak of our precious 
 secret with no fear that it would be discovered. 
 There we discussed the question, and Balser 
 had little difficulty in convincing me that his 
 interpretation of Wyandotte's words was 
 correct. But the old man's instructions direct- 
 ing us to ask his god about the gold seemed 
 to me to cast doubt on all he had told us. 
 
 Balser, with his usual persistency, said : 
 " Never you mind, Tom Andy Bill. We'll 
 learn the meaning of that, too. Just let us
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 329 
 
 find the cave, and I'd almost stake my life 
 we'll find the gold." 
 
 Next morning we started out early across 
 the trackless prairie, headed for another town 
 that lay in the general direction of home. 
 Before we had been riding an hour, we deter- 
 mined not to go directly home, but to make 
 our way straight to Corydon. If we went 
 home, we should have to give some explana- 
 tion for continuing our trip to Corydon; and 
 if our search for the treasure were to fail 
 after we had told the object of our mission, 
 we should return to Blue River a pair of crest- 
 fallen boys, to be laughed at by our friends. 
 
 " I'll go with you this time, Balser," said I, 
 " but it is the last fool's errand I'll undertake 
 in search of this phantom gold." 
 
 "This trip is all I'll ever ask you to make," 
 he answered. "This time we'll get the gold, 
 gold, gold ! " He was already beginning to 
 speak to Wyandotte Wyolyo, the god. 
 
 Balser's enthusiasm was infectious, and I 
 had caught it long before we reached Corydon. 
 
 Three weeks after leaving the Wyandotte 
 village we reached Corydon, the old capital 
 of Indiana. After arriving at the quaint old 
 town, we began preparations for visiting the
 
 33 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 cave, and for exploring it in case we found it. 
 We laid in a supply of provisions, bought one 
 skillet (our only cooking utensil), two tin cups, 
 two tin plates, knives, and forks. We also 
 bought five dozen candles, two large oil lan- 
 terns, wicks, and oil. We determined not to 
 depend upon our tinder box for light, but 
 laid in a supply of sulphur matches and bought 
 two small, water-tight metal match cases that 
 we intended to carry with us on our journey 
 through the cave. 
 
 We had been lost once in a dark cave, and 
 we had no notion of being caught in the same 
 predicament again. To further guard against 
 being lost, we bought a thousand feet of twine 
 in balls. We meant to fasten one end of the 
 string at the mouth of the cave, and then ex- 
 pected to carry the balls of twine with us, 
 unwinding them as we went in. All these 
 articles we stored in our saddle-bags. 
 
 Our outfit was so complete that I told 
 Balser we probably should have the luck of 
 the man who went fishing with too much 
 bait. He caught no fish. But Balser's faith 
 never flagged, and I had more confidence 
 than I was willing to express. 
 
 We started west one morning at sun-up
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 331 
 
 and within two or three hours came to the 
 deep, narrow river flowing between high 
 banks, described by Wyandotte. The dis- 
 covery that the old Indian had told the truth 
 about the river seemed to give a flavor of 
 verity to his entire story. When we first saw 
 the river, Balser cried out delightedly : 
 
 " Here's the river, Tom Andy Bill, and I 
 believe every word the poor old savage 
 said was true ! " 
 
 " Do you believe his god will tell us where 
 the gold is ? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes, I do," he answered. " I don't know 
 what he meant, but I'm going to follow his 
 instructions." 
 
 " Perhaps you had better commence pray- 
 ing to his god at once," I suggested. " It 
 would be a fine start for us to begin our 
 treasure hunt by breaking the first command- 
 ment." 
 
 " If I felt as you do about this matter, I'd 
 go home," answered Balser. 
 
 I laughed and said, " Don't say a word." 
 
 We followed the river bank as closely as 
 possible, and when the stream turned south, 
 sure enough, there to the right, that is, on 
 the north side of the river, was a high, stony
 
 332 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 hill shaped like the half of an egg. When 
 Balser saw the hill, he could hardly breathe 
 for excitement, and I must confess that my 
 heart, too, was working pretty hard. 
 
 The side of the hill was steep and rocky, 
 but at the top there was a small grove of 
 trees. When we reached the foot of the 
 hill, we dismounted ; and after a hard climb, 
 arrived at the top, where we halted in the 
 grove, unloaded, and hitched the horses to 
 trees. It was nearly supper time, but we 
 could not wait to eat. We were so excited 
 that for once in our lives our appetites de- 
 serted us. We gave the horses a few ears of 
 corn, and started down the " middle of the 
 north side of the hill." 
 
 We had climbed it from the south, we had 
 passed over the "middle of the top," and then 
 we started down the "middle of the north 
 side." 
 
 We had hardly gone halfway down the 
 hill when Balser cried out: 
 
 " There's the arrow, Tom Andy Bill ! 
 There's the arrow ! " 
 
 Sure enough, right before us was the arrow, 
 pointing east. We instantly started in the 
 direction indicated by the arrow ; and when
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 333 
 
 we had taken a few steps, we turned and faced 
 each other, dumb with amazement, for right 
 before us was the overhanging rock that cov- 
 ered the opening to the cave we had already 
 explored. On our former visit we had ap- 
 proached the hill from the north side, and on 
 this occasion we had failed to recognize it 
 because we had come upon it from the south. 
 
 To say that we were disappointed doesn't 
 half tell the story. We had searched every 
 nook and corner of the cave, and we felt sure 
 there was no treasure to be found in it. Even 
 Balser's enthusiasm was dampened, and with- 
 out a word we started up the hill to our horses, 
 ate our supper, lay down in our blankets, and 
 went to sleep, a pair of sadly disappointed 
 boys. When we awakened next morning we 
 were very downhearted, but after breakfast 
 Balser said : 
 
 " We're here, and we might as well explore 
 the cave again. We may have missed some 
 part of it when we were here before. We are 
 so well prepared that we can explore it now 
 without risk of being lost. I want to see The 
 Marble Room by a good light, anyway." 
 
 I, too, wanted to see the cave again ; so we 
 prepared the lamps, took a dozen candles,
 
 334 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 fastened one end of the twine at the opening 
 of the cave, and entered upon our second ex- 
 ploration of this wonderful cavern. We en- 
 tered, lighted our torches, and unwound the 
 twine as we proceeded. A few minutes' walk 
 brought us to the wonderful marble chamber, 
 and we again examined every square foot of 
 the room. As on our former visit, we were 
 soon convinced that no treasure was con- 
 cealed in that chamber. 
 
 While we were pondering gloomily over 
 our second failure, Wyandotte's instructions 
 to call to the god occurred to Balser, and 
 lifting his face as if in prayer, he exclaimed, 
 " Gold, gold, gold ! " 
 
 No answer came, and I laughed. His call 
 to Wyandotte Wyolyo reminded us of Mon- 
 yomo's map. I took it from my pocket and, 
 by the light of the lanterns, examined the 
 rude tracings. We easily recognized the route 
 through the cave up to the marble chamber 
 in which we were sitting, but if Wyandotte's 
 map was correct, there were still many rooms 
 beyond. 
 
 We had not been able to find an opening 
 leading from the marble chamber, save the 
 one by which we had entered, but after ex-
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 335 
 
 amining the map, Balser sprang to his feet 
 and began trying to move the rocks that 
 rested near the wall of the cavern. I joined 
 in the labor, and soon I heard a cry of delight 
 from my friend. I looked and saw that he 
 had moved a large rock, and that in front 
 of him was a low opening penetrating the 
 stone wall of the chamber. 
 
 " Here is the opening represented by the 
 dim line on Wyandotte's map," cried Balser, 
 " and I'm sure it leads to the chamber in- 
 dicated by the circular line on the parch- 
 ment." 
 
 We examined the opening and found it so 
 small that to pass through it we must lie 
 upon our breasts. For a moment we hesitated 
 to enter, but no danger would have balked 
 Balser in his determination to find the treas- 
 ure. He lay down upon his breast, and, push- 
 ing the lamp before him, crawled into the 
 low, narrow tunnel, and I crawled after him, 
 pushing my lantern ahead of me. 
 
 After covering a distance of ten or fifteen 
 yards in the tunnel, we came to a point where 
 it made a sharp turn at right angles. Here 
 the tunnel was so narrow that we were com- 
 pelled to turn upon our sides to enable us to
 
 336 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 pass the angle. It was " scary " work, I tell 
 you ; but after a long, hard spell of playing 
 snake, we emerged into another beautiful 
 marble chamber, more marvellous even than 
 the first. 
 
 We easily searched the new room, but found 
 no possible hiding place for the treasure. 
 Here, too, Balser lifted his face to the ceiling 
 and called out, Gold, gold, gold ! " but no 
 answering voice of the god greeted us. 
 Again I laughed, and Balser thought my 
 levity was far amiss. The passageways to 
 other chambers were all large, and in a short 
 time we had examined eight or ten beautiful 
 rooms. 
 
 In each chamber Balser called, " Gold, gold, 
 gold!" and I always found it very funny, 
 much to his disgust. We had been in the 
 cave perhaps four or five hours when we 
 entered a chamber that was more lofty and 
 more beautiful than any we had yet seen. 
 Balser at once turned his face to the ceil- 
 ing and made his adjuration to Wyandotte 
 Wyolyo, " Gold, gold, gold ! " 
 
 I again felt like laughing, but I didn't laugh, 
 for to my surprise there came a reverberating 
 answer, loud at first, but diminishing to a
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 337 
 
 ghostly whisper: "GOLD, gold, gold, gold, 
 g-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-old ! " 
 
 "An echo," said I, awed by the wonderful 
 response. 
 
 " Yes, that's what Wyandotte meant," an- 
 swered Balser. " Now, if we don't fall dead 
 from excitement, we'll have that treasure 
 pretty soon." 
 
 We lighted our candles, placing them 
 about at points best suited to illuminate 
 the chamber, and, with lanterns in hand, pro- 
 ceeded to search the wonderful place. I had 
 taken a shovel in with me, and Balser had 
 carried a pick, so we were prepared to com- 
 mence digging as soon as we found a soft 
 spot in the rock. But the floor was of solid 
 stone, and in ten minutes we were convinced 
 that the treasure could not be buried in the 
 cave of the echo. 
 
 Our excitement, of course, was great. Our 
 nerves were wrought to the highest pitch. 
 The cave was cool, but we had discarded our 
 coats and were perspiring like wheat-binders 
 in July. We went over and over every square 
 foot of the place, and were almost wild with 
 despair. When we heard the echo, we felt 
 that the treasure was surely ours, and to come
 
 338 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 down from the glittering heights of expec- 
 tancy to the black depths of disappointment 
 was like falling from heaven to the other 
 place. 
 
 I thought Balser was going to cry, so I 
 took him by the arm and led him to the foot 
 of a great white column that stood in the 
 centre of the chamber. Being very tired, we 
 sat down upon a rock that jutted out from 
 the base of the column. After we had been 
 sitting there a few minutes, I happened to 
 glance up, and noticed that pieces of the 
 crystal rock, similar to the one on which we 
 were sitting, projected from the main stem 
 at intervals of two or three feet, almost to 
 the top. I remarked carelessly to Balser : 
 
 " One might climb to the top of this 
 column." 
 
 I had hardly uttered the words when 
 Balser exclaimed : " On top of a devil's 
 head ! " 
 
 He at once began to climb, and I, grasping 
 his thought, instantly followed him with the 
 nimbleness of a mountain goat. We each 
 reached the top of the column at almost the 
 same instant, and I nearly fell to the rock 
 floor, twenty feet beneath us, for there on the
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 339 
 
 top of the beautiful white " devil," were five 
 iron-bound chests. 
 
 Gold, gold, gold, at last ! " cried Balser. 
 
 " LAST, last, last, la-a-a-a-a-ast " 
 answered the god, Wyandotte Wyolyo. 
 
 The refrain was uncanny and almost froze 
 my blood. The awful word " last " seemed 
 to tell me that it was the last of Balser and 
 me, and my heart almost grew cold with fear 
 at the thought that we might never get out 
 of the cave alive, and that this marvellous 
 chamber would be our " last, last, last " rest- 
 ing place. 
 
 I was nearly ready to faint, but Balser's 
 excitement gave him strength, and I borrowed 
 a little from him for the time being. We 
 feasted our eyes on the five chests until we 
 were full of them, and then we took them 
 down the column, one by one. 
 
 We were greatly disappointed in the size 
 of the chests, for they were not more than 
 seven or eight inches square, by three or 
 four inches deep, and we could see that the 
 boards composing them were quite thick. 
 I don't know how large we expected the 
 chests to be. To tell the truth, we had no 
 idea how much space a thousand dollars in
 
 340 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 gold would occupy, but these chests were 
 so small that we feared they could not, all 
 together, contain the half of a thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 Though we were sadly disappointed in the 
 size of the chests, we lost no time in opening 
 them with our pick, and I shall never forget 
 the sight that greeted our eyes. Never be- 
 fore nor since has gold looked so beautiful. 
 There it lay in a great pile of beautiful double 
 eagles. We opened all the chests and poured 
 the gold out on the stone floor of the cavern, 
 where we counted six hundred pieces of 
 twenty dollars each. 
 
 Balser left me with the gold and went to 
 fetch sacks in which to carry it. He took up 
 the twine string, allowing it to slip through 
 his fingers in guiding him to the mouth of 
 the cave. He was gone a long time ; at least 
 it seemed long to me, for I was very lonesome 
 waiting in the cave, and dreaded crawling 
 back through " worm alley," as we called the 
 narrow tunnel. 
 
 When Balser returned we divided the gold 
 into equal parts, put it in the sacks, and, leav- 
 ing the empty chests behind us, started for 
 the mouth of the cave.
 
 WB < ' Mil' MX HUNDRED PIECES Of TWENTY DOLLARS BACH'
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 341 
 
 We met with no adventure worth mention- 
 ing on our return trip to Blue River. 
 
 I reached home just after supper time one 
 evening, hurriedly put up my horse, slipped 
 into the house without giving warning of 
 my approach, and entered the sitting room 
 carrying my precious sack which weighed 
 about thirty pounds over my shoulder. 
 
 My mother and my sisters ran to greet me, 
 and after kissing them, I walked over to father, 
 who was sitting by the fire. I shook hands 
 with him and put the sack down on the floor 
 beside him, saying kind o' careless like : 
 
 " There's a present for you, father ;" and he 
 said kind o' careless like : 
 
 " What is it, son ? " 
 
 "Oh, nothing much," said I; "just gold." 
 
 Well, you should have seen father and 
 mother and my sisters pounce on that sack 
 and pour the yellow fellows out on the table. 
 
 The girls asked twenty questions at once, 
 but I said: " I'll tell you the whole story 
 after I have had some supper. I'm hungry 
 as a bear." 
 
 I looked about the room. There were my 
 three sisters, Nan, Betty, and Sue, my father 
 and my mother
 
 342 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 " Where where is is Mab ? " I asked. 
 Then mother and the girls covered their faces 
 with their aprons and began to cry. Pres- 
 ently father rose from his chair, came to me, 
 placed his hand lovingly on my shoulder, and 
 said, in a low, trembling voice : 
 
 " They have taken her from us, son. I 
 fought them in the courts until I could fight 
 no more ; but the law had its way, and they 
 took her from us." 
 ###### 
 
 Well, the gold turned to ashes for me then 
 and there, and gold has been ashes for me 
 ever since. 
 
 Five years afterward we got a letter from 
 Mab telling us that she had been forced to 
 marry a man chosen by her people to be her 
 husband, and that she was very unhappy. 
 Soon after receiving the letter, mother died, 
 and father did not long survive her. Sue 
 and Betty got married, and Nan and I lived 
 together in the old house. 
 
 Seven or eight years after receiving Mab's 
 letter, a carriage from the town of Blue River 
 stopped in front of our door, and out stepped 
 Mab with a baby girl. Maybe she wasn't 
 welcome ! Ah, what a glad day that was !
 
 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 343 
 
 " I have run away from them all," said Mab. 
 " They are hard, cruel people, and my hus- 
 band was the worst of all. I could not endure 
 life with him one day longer, so I took little 
 Mab and ran away from him, and have come 
 back to you, Tom Andy Bill, for protection." 
 
 " Well, I reckon you've come to the right 
 place," said I. 
 
 They tried to make her leave us again, but 
 I kept a dozen rifles loaded, and notified 
 her people that there would be a series of 
 funerals if any of them placed foot on my 
 farm. 
 
 Mab lived with Nan and me three years, 
 and died, leaving us little four-year-old Mab. 
 Her father tried to take her from us, but I 
 lawed him till she was eighteen years old. 
 Then she got married and lived in the old 
 house for many years after we moved into the 
 new one. But she and her husband died, as 
 you all know, not long since, and they left to 
 me to me 
 
 At that point the old man stopped speak- 
 ing, placed his hand on Mab's curls, and after 
 a long pause, continued : 
 
 " I reckon my title to her is good. I'll kill
 
 344 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 
 
 any man that says it isn't." So he took 
 Baby Mab in his arms and pressed her 
 to his breast. 
 
 Then we rose and left Uncle Tom Andy 
 Bill alone with his great sorrow, and his 
 greater joy, for we knew that the story was 
 told. 
 
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 King Rational Living. By Henry Churchill King. 
 
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 viewed from the Christian standpoint." Philadelphia Public 
 Ledger. 
 
 London The War of the Classes. By Jack London. 
 
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 London Revolution and Other Essays. By Jack London. 
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 Lyon How to Keep Bees for Profit. By Everett D. Lyon. 
 
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 McLennan A Manual of Practical Farming. By John McLennan. 
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 Mabie William Shakespeare: Poet, Dramatist, and Man. By 
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 Mathews The Gospel and the Modern Man. By Shailer 
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 Nearing Wages in the United States. By Scott Nearing. 
 
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 6
 
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 Pierce The Tariff and the Trusts. By Franklin Pierce. 
 
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 Rauschenbusch Christianity and the Social Crisis. By Walter 
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 Scott Increasing Human Efficiency in Business. By Walter 
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 St. Maur A Self-supporting Home. By Kate V. St. Maur. 
 
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 Sherman What is Shakespeare? By L. A. Sherman. 
 
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 speare student will be incomplete." Daily Telegram. 
 
 Sidgwick Home Life in Germany. By A. Sidgwick. 
 
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 Simons Social Forces in American History. By A. W. SIimons. 
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 Tarbell History of Greek Art. By T. B. Tarbell. 
 
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 Trask In the Vanguard. By Katrina Trask. 
 
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 Van Dyke The Gospel for a World of Sin. By Henry Van 
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 Veblen The Theory of the Leisure Class. By Thorstein B. 
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 Vedder Socialism and the Ethics of Jesus. By Henry C. 
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 Walling Socialism as it Is. By William English Walling. 
 
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 White The Old Order Changeth. By William Allen White. 
 
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 Redgauntlet 
 
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 i3
 
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