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186 of sixteen, or thirty-two, or forty-eight pages requires a good deal of skill, and a thorough knowledge of the printing business; and there are thousands of compositors, who work all their lives at the business, who cannot “make up” a book form. But having gotten our form ready for the press, we will stop for the present. Next week we propose to take you into the press room. KM ESI AN 3 VI. 7 dneth, the Mm ft «h«l’ h« r*- c«?i v o (ff the Lord, whether K* b* hood or free. 9 And, ye western, doth# Mine things unto them, for bvaringthreatpning: know ing that your Master also ia In heaven : neither ic there reaper t of pereonawithhim. 10 Finally, my brethren, be strong in tho Lord, and in the newer of hi* might. 11 rut on the whole artnourof Ood, that jemay be able to stand against the wilee of the devil. 8 EPHESIANS VI. 12 For we wrestle noi against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darknotM of this world, against spiritual wickednoea in high places. 13 Wherefore take unto you the wholo armour of God, that ye may bo able to withstandin theovilday, and having done all, to 14 Stand therefore, hav ing your loins girt about with truth, and having on FORM OF FOUR PAGES. Written for Burke’s Weekly. THE YOUNG EXPLORERS; OR, 80Y-MF# IN TEXAB. BY JOHN C. DUVAL, Author of “ Jack Dobell ; or, A Boy's Ad ventures in Texas," “ 7'Ae Adventures of Big-Foot Wallacef etc CHAPTER XXII. The Buffalo Chase — Mr. Pitt Kills a Fat Cow —Cudjo not in at the Death , but Soon Enough for the Steaks —The Beaver Dam —Uncle Seth Tells how he Surprised the Beavers at their Work. OR some distance the crowd kept pretty well together— “ neck and neck,” as the jockeys say —but soon the best runners began to forge ahead, and at last Mr. Pitt led the van on his half-breed mus tang. Lawrence was next, Willie, Henry and myself close by, and Uncle Seth brought up the rear ; whilst far behind, poor Cudjo was having a little fun all to himself, for his gallant steed had taken the “studs” (an amiable pecu liarity for which he was noted), and wouldn’t do anything but pitch up and down in one spot, like a boat beating against a head sea. On and on we went like the wind, until at last, as we neared the affrighted animals, the ex citement of the chase became so intense that we yelled, and shouted, and flour ished our guns and pistols in true Co manche style. Finding themselves hard pushed, the buffaloes began to scatter, and each one singled out his game, and followed wherever it went. Willie tackled an old bull, and fired three shots from his gun and derringers into his head ; but his skull was so thick the bullets scarce ly made him wink, and he finally made good his retreat into the timber. Nei ther Lawrence nor myself got a shot, for our horses, unaccustomed to the sight of buffaloes, became unmanage able. We could not force them up suf ficiently near to use our pistols, and they plunged and reared in such a way it was impossible to use our guns. Hen ry got one shot at a fat cow, but he missed her, or wounded her very slight ly, and before he could get another, she plunged into a thick chaparral, and he lost sight of her. But Mr. Pitt was more fortunate. He brought a fat cow to the ground by a well-directed shot from his pistol, and Uncle Seth, coining up a few moments afterwards, gave her the cotip de grace , and finished her effectually. One by one, the rest of us returned from our unsuccessful pursuit of the buffaloes, and gathered about the one Mr. Pitt had killed. 8 EPHESIANS rr. 5 Servants, be obedient to them that are your mas ters according to the with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, aa an to Christ; a Not with ere-service, as raen-pleaser*: but an the servant* of Christ, doing ths will of God from the heart: 7 With good will doing service, as to the Lord, and 8 Knowing that whatso ever good thing any man CHAPTER VI. CHILDREN, obey you r parents in the Lor.'t for this is right. 2 Honour thy fkther and mother: which is the first commandment with pro -3 That it may bo well with theo, and thou mayost livo long on thttoarth, 4 And, yo fathers, pro voke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admo nition of tho Lord. 1 5 After a while, Cudjo also came pranc ing up sideways , but before be got in forty paces of us, bis horse caught sight of the dead buffalo lying upon, the ground, and began a second series of pitchings more violent than the first, and Cudjo was compelled to dismount and lead him up by the halter. “ Cudjo,” said one of the boys, “ how many buffaloes have you killed to day ? ’ ’ “Bress de Lord!” said Cudjo, “I aint seed a bufferlo dis day, ’ceptin’ de one lyin’ dar on de ground. Dis horse here git ole Nick iu him, jess as soon as you all start to run arter de bufferlo, and he aint done notting but pitch, pitch, right up and down in one place ebber sence. I’m gwying to steal an oder one from de Ingens or somebody else, de bery fast chance I git.” “No,” said Lawrence, “that will never do, Cudjo; the only way to get a horse in this country is to shoot the rider and take his horse. Then it’s all right; but if you take the horse, and don’t shoot the rider, that’s stealing, and you’ll be bung for it to a cer tainty.” “Den I’ll stick to ‘Paint,’” said Cudjo; “I aint gwying to kill nobody for he horse, not even a Ingen, onless he’s arter mine. Paint’s amity rascal sometimes, it’s a fact, and wont budge a foot es he takes de notion in his head ; but dere’s one ting certain, es I can’t be at de killin’ ob de meat, I’ll be close about when de steaks is cooked, you bet, and dat’s de main pint.” “ Boys,” said Uncle Seth, poking the ribs of the dead cow with the muzzle of his gun, “ this critter is as fat as butter, and es Cudjo manages ’em rightly, we ll have some steaks to-night when we git into camp that’ll beat bar meat all hol low ; but we must butcher her right off, and hang up the meat out of the way of the cayotes and other varmints.” In a few minutes, with our assist BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. ance, Uncle Seth had peeled the hide from the cow, and then with his butcher knife he cut off a side of ribs, and about fifty pounds of the tende loin, which lie hung up in the crotch of a tree, and covered with the skin, to prevent the buzzards from taking toll out of it while we were gone. “ It’s a shame,” said Uncle Seth, as he mounted his horse again, and looked with longing eyes at the huge mass of flesh still lying upon the ground ; “it’s a shame to leave so much good grub for the wolves, but we can’t help it. We have tuck as much as we can carry back with us to camp. There’s many a poor fambily, away back in the old settlements, that would be mity glad to git all that good beef we are leaving there upon the ground for the cayotes to gnaw at, and for my part I wish some on ’em had it. But that’s jest the way with things in this world,” he added, in a moralizing sort of strain; “some folks have more’n they know what to do with, and others ain’t got nothing at all; but I reckon, boys, it will all be squar’d in the end —leastwise, I hope so.” Continuing our route up the valley, which gradually contracted in width as we advanced, we travelled on until about noon, when we halted in a grove on the banks of the Sabinal, to give our horses a chance to blow and to pick a few mouthfuls of grass. Just oppo site to where we had stopped, the bea vers had built a dam across the creek, and on examination we found that they had done the work strictly according to scientific principles, so as most effec tually to resist the pressure of the water and the force of the current. At any rate, so said Mr. Pitt, who had been a practical engineer himself. Inside of the dam, the houses in which the ani mals lived were built, their tops only being visible above the surface of the water. They were constructed of poles, and neatly plastered with what appear ed to be a mixture of grass and mud. We noticed that nearly every sapling around the pond formed by the dam had been cut down to furnish logs for these houses. “It does beat all natur,” said Uncle Seth, “the judgematical way in which these varmints carry on their works. I sorter believe they were all boss car penters that have been turned into bea vers for cheatin’ folks when they was men. When I was trappin’, three or four year ago, on the head waters of Little River, I tried mity hard to catch the rascals at their work, for I wanted to see how they managed it; but some how they always diskivered me, and knocked off work before I could get nigh enough to watch their motions. I detarmined, however, to circumvent ’em es I could ; so one day I tuck an old shovel we had in camp, and went to the beaver dam, whar I dug a hole deep enough for me to git in, from which I could peep out and see every thing that was going on in ‘ Beaver town,’ without any danger of been seed myself; and I then kivered up all the dirt I had throwed out of the hole with dry leaves, so the beavers wouldn’t no tice it. “Well, about sundown, I went back to the dam, and hived myself in the pit I had dug. and kep perfectly quiet. Soon arter dark the moon riz, and made it almost as light as day, and I expected every minit I’d see the scamps come out and go to work ; but for more’n a hour not a thing did I see nor hear, except the water glistenin’ in the moon light and pouring over the top of the dam. I began to think may be so it was Sunday with ’em, and that they wouldn’t work at all that night; but still I kep quiet, and never budged ex cept when, every now and then, I would poke my nose above the top of the pit, to see if anything was goiiT on. I had just made up my mind to quit, and go back to camp, when I seed an old bea ver crawl out on the top of his house and look around. The old rascal was everdently suspicious there was some thing about, for he turned up his nose, and snuffed the wind from every quar ter, and looked mity hard towards the place where I was hived; but at last he ’peared to be satisfied that all was right, and lifting up his broad tail, he slapped it down on the ruff of his house with a loud smack. “The next minit the beavers began to pour out’n their houses, and dividin’ off into squads, some commenced cut ting down saplins with their sharp teeth, whilst other squads hauled them into the water, and others toted grass and mud on their flat tails to the place where some were mixing up the mortar. And all the time the work was going on the old chap that had come out and flapped his tail on the ruff of his house, was fiyin’ around, fust to one squad and then to another, ordering this thing to be did that way, and that thing to be did this way, as if he was the boss of the whole consarn ; and I-s’pose he was. It was raally divartin to see the way they carried on, no one interfering with another, but each one working like a Turk at his own task. “ Bimeby, I hearn a great racket at one end of the dam, and peeping over the top of my pit, I seed ten or a dozen of’em, with the old boss direct-in ’em, around a big sapplin they had cut down. They had got it to the edge of the water, but there somehow it had got chocked hard and fast bertween two rocks, and they couldn’t move it one way or the o her. The old boss was in a tearin’ rage, runnin’ fust to one end of the log and then to the other, and abusing the whole crowd, I know, (though I couldn’t hear what he said) for a set of lazy, good-for-nothing vaga bonds ; but still the log wouldn’t budge an inch. By this time I had got consi derably interested in the operation my self, and seein’ how easy it would-have