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66 [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] THE SCHOLL OF LIFE. BY WM. E. SCREVEN. “ The low, tad music of humanity." —Wordsworth. When tranquil twilight rules the hour, And all the hot oppressive power Os garish day, With its innumerable cares, And all its weary doubts and fears, Fasseth away, I love to sit beneath this yew. And meditate, in calm review, Life's varied chart ; And so derive from what has been. Os good and ill contained therein— Food for the heart. A ponderous volume open'd wide, By unseen fingers at my side, Life's drama shows. A strange and varied Boole, it seems, Os facts, and fancies, songs, and dreams, Delights and woes. First: simple sketches, clear and brief, Os Boyhood bright—its joy, its grief, Its deeds so brave, Mingled with songs of childish glee, Touch'd with an artless melody, Our blessings crave. When, next, to Manhood's page we turn, “The thoughts that breathe, the words that burn,” Leap forth like flames. Records of deeds of high emprise, From which the fate of nations rise, And deathless names. The trumpet tones of deadly strife Peal o'er the battle-field of Life; Within the heart, The good and evil principle, Bright, heavenly forms, black fiends of hell, In conflict start llow do the pages flash and glow, As the quick changes ebb and flow, In battle's tide. Oh ! God 1 befriend the forms of Light— Strengthen them for the raging fight— Thy cause decide 1 The dark, and hellish stains of sin, With Virtue's radiance mingled, in These mystic leaves All that Mnn does, and all he feels, All he designs, all he conceals, And all believes, Are here made clear. Each sinful fall, Each earnest heed to virtue's call, Each tender tear, Stands forth In living characters; Foul, hideous blots, or glorious stars, In turn appear. At length, life's journey, nearly o'er, Perchance, In sight of Death’s dim shore, And final goal. Songs of triumph strike the car, Soft and sweet, yet bold and clear. As on they roll 1 Such is the destined Scroll of Life, Innocent joy, and weary strife, Through all the past. To end in victory's proudest strain, Triumph o'er every form of pain, And Peace, at last! —«— [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] JACK HOPETON AND HIS FRIENDS. OR, THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A GEORGIAN. BY WM. W. TURNER. CHAPTER VII. We all know that negroes generally have very flat, unintelligent looking features, and the blacker the darkey, the more animal-liko the countenance. When we see among the sons of Ham a face indicating the existence of mind, the bright color attendant on it almost always betrays the admixture of European blood. Sometimes, however, we find the unmitigated blackness of complexion belonging to the African, together with the promiuent nose and general appearance of humanity, which characterize the Caueassian race. Negroes so distinguished are smart and shrewd, to an astonishing degree; and, too fre quently, they are scoundrels, in proportion to their intelligence. Occasionally, though, they are faithful and honest. It may well be imagin ed that, in this case, they aro invaluable. My man Howard belonged to this latter class. He was strictly honest—and those who know negroes are well aware that stealing pre vails among them to a greater extent than any other crime. I could trust him with any thing. We were raised together, and he was my play mate from the time 1 could crawl. He not only served me as a master, but assisted me with the affection duo a friend. As a valet, I never had to chide him, for he had all a negios pride, and delighted in seeing me so dressed as to excel my associates. In a word, his happiness seemed to consist in anticipating my wishes and supplying my wants. Being apt —remarkably quick of perception— wherever I went, into whatever new society or mode of life, he soon learned every thing neces sary to comfort and convenience, and that in all the shorter time, because he applied himself to it voluntarily, as to the acquirement of an ac complishment. This may account for the eulo gium 'bestowed on him—and which he richly de served—by Captain Preston. A short time after our first meeting with the buffalo, we halted for another day. “Jack,” ?. ’ Tom Harper, “suppose we have our horses saddled, and take a hunt.” “ What sliall we hunt ?” I asked. “ Oh, any thing we can find—deer, buffalo, wild horse, panther, or Indian.” “As to the last three, I don’t see that we can do much with them. The panthers or the In dians either, might prove troublesome customers, and wild horses would laugh at us.” “Ah, you’ve never seen me threw the lasso?” “ No.” “ Then, I hope you will see it to-day.” “Why, Tom, I had no idea you possessed this accomplishment, although I have already learned to look on you as an Admirable Crich ton.” “ You do not know how ambitious J am, Jack. In all my wanderings, I have endeavored to learn those things best calculated to win ap plause. At college, I pored over Greek and Latin. Entering on fashionable life, I studied dancing, music, the art of dressing, and all those little things, to excel in which gives one a name among the irnniti of society. Among the fast young men, I learned billiards, 4c. Shooting, I always loved, and horsemanship is as natural to a Southerner as walking. When I commenced backwoods life, my shooting was the only thing which excited the admiration of my companions. They looked on good riding as a matter of course. So I set myself to work to acquire all sorts of frontier accomplishments. Skill with the lasso is highly regarded by prairie men.” “ Well. what kind of arms shall we carry?” BU 80VCKX1I SW VXBSBX9S. “ Rifles, and the rest, of eeurse, Congo." con tinued Toni, addressing his servant, an old cam paigner , “saddle the Burnt Tail for me, and Black Paddy for yourself. See if the guns want clean ing ; though I think they do not." “ They are in first rate order, sir,” answered Congo, “ but I’ll rub ’em up a little.” “ Get my trappings ready, too, Howard,” said I; “ just such as Congo prepares for his master.” “ You’ll take Howard along, wont you, Jack?” “ Certainly.” “ Hinks,” said Tom, addressing the old hunts man, “ we are going to leave every thing in your charge, while we, like gallant knights, go forth in quest of adventure.” “All right,” was the reply; “I’ll take good care of every thing here—better care, I’m afraid, than you two youngsters ’ll take of yourselves.” “What! you old goose! don’t I know as much as you do?” “ Perhaps you may.” “ Well, can’t you take care of yourself?" “Sometimes.” “ Well, what on earth are you talking about ? Ah! you’re sullen I see.” “You are mistaken. I aintso sullen as not to warn a man who has befriended me, when I see him about to go into danger—if he does speak cross to me.” “ I beg your pardon, Hinks. But what is it, man ? We want to go.” “ Well, I suppose you know we’ve got to the Injun country.” “ I supposed we were very near it.” “ Seems to me, then, that’s enough to keep you from going off by yourself." “By myself? Why, Jack Ilopeton is going, and his man Howard, and ray man Congo.” “ I believe, from what I’ve seen of Mr. Jack Ilopeton, that lie’ll do to tie to; but then lie’s monstrous young and tender.” “Don’t be uneasy on mv account, friend Hinks,” said I, rather tartly. “I beat you kill ing deer, any way.” “So you did, but ’twant nothin but the devil’s luck helped you to do it.” “ 1 told you, old fellow, that I stalked my deer fairly and squarely, and now, ‘darn ye!’ you talk about luck.” "One of’em you did. but I wonder if I didu't drive ’tother right into the muzzle of your gun?” “Yes, you did, after letting the prettiest sort of a chance slip, without killing any thing.” •‘Como, Jack," broke in Tom, “there’s no use talking to that jealous old cock any long er. The horses are-ready; let’s go.” The steeds were standing some distance oft’, ready saddled, and we started towards them. “ Have you got a lasso for me, Tom ?” I asked. “Yes,” was the reply; “I thought you’d as well begin to learn now, as any time.” “ Mr. Tom Harper,’ interrupted llinks, once more, “I’ve got something to say to you.” “Well,” said Tom, irritated, “why don't you speak out. I’ve been trying all the time to get you to disgorge." “ Jim Shirley has got leave to go hunting to day." “Who?” said Tom, quickly, turning pale. “ Jim Shirley.” “ Where is Jim Shirley?” “ Here, in camp. He’s one of the rangers.” “ Why, I’ve seen them all, and Jim Shirley is not among them.” “ Ho is.” “Which is he?” “ It s that dark, mean-looking scamp, with the long gray beard, and only one eye.” “Indeed! Well, I’ve caught that one eye fixed on me several times, and now I recollect that each time it set me to thinking, though it always looked away as soon as I encountered it steadily. I believe, now, that you are right.” “ I know I’m right; hut I want to have some private chat with you.” “ Speak out. I’m willing for Jack to hear all about it.” “ Well I’ve known Jim all the while, and ” “ Why didn’t you tell me before now that lie was in the company ?” “ Because he told me he would behave him self, and let you alone; so I thought, as long as ho kept his promise, telling you about his being along would do no good; but it seems you rode by him 'tother day and killed the buffalo ho was after, and that little thing raised his Irish again. I was close to him, and heard him swear that he’d cut your comb tho first time ho caught you away from the camp, after we got among the Injuns, so every body would think they done it. Well, last night he was prowling about, and heei'd you say you was goin, out to-day, and he went right straight to Captain Preston, and got leave to go too.’’ “We’ll watch out for the gentleman, then,” said Tom. “ I wish you wouldn’t go out. You know what a devil Jim Shirley is when he gets start ed.” “Yes; and that is why he must be settled. I shall go now just to give him a chance to com mence his game. I'm tired of him, and if he is not careful, he'll get his quietus to-day. “Ifwe are going, then,” said I, “let’s be off.” “ Every man knows his own business best,” again spoke our old hunter. “ I’ve warned ye, and I ’spose you’ll do your own way.” “You know what you’d do, Hinks,”answered Tom, “if you were in my place. You'd never shirk; and you can’t expect me to do it. Much obliged to you for your warning, though.” “Well, let one of these darkies stay at the tent, and let mo go with you. I may do some good.” “ I would, but for one thing. If Jim Shirley sees you with us he wont attack me. I want him to do whatever he is intending, to-day.— The thing must be settled. He shall dog mo no longer.” We mounted and rode off towards the South, where Tom said we should find some wooded hills. We passed by the rangers, and saw the one-eyed fellow putting his rifle together, hav ing, apparently, just cleaned it. Looking back as we went on, we saw him following us with his eye, and when we had left the camp a quarter of a mile, he also got on his horse, and galloped off in the direction contrary to that we had taken. “It all works right,” said my companion.— “ That scoundrel knows the geography of this country well, and is fully aware of my destina tion. Ho will be at the hills before us, wait ing to shoot me down.” “You look a little mystified, Jack,” he con tinued, “and I’ll enlighten you, in a few words. Once, in the course of my frontier adventures, this man Shirley, a violent drunken bully, in a fit of intoxication, was offering insult to a pretty Indian maiden whom I had seen several times, selling moccasins, and in whose favor I had been prepossessed, by her simple grace and modesty of demeanor. It happened that the girl’s lover was present, and although boiling with indig nation, he feared to resent, in a becoming man ner, in the presence of so many white men, the indignity offered by Shirley. “ Still, he could not help rushing in between his sweetheart and the overbearing white man. Enraged at tills, Shirley presented his rifie, and a moment more would have beheld the Indian a corpse. I happened to be in rather a desper ate mood that day, and. besides, my natural sense of justice would not allow me to witness cold-blooded butchery; so, just as the brute pulled the trigger of his rifle, I struck the latter up, and the bullet whistled over the head of the intended victim. “Without a word, the baffled murderer turned on me with his clubbed gun. If I had been in a good humor, I should have sprung out of his way and showed lum the muzzle of my repeater, to keep him at bay. As it was—you have seen that I am rather muscular —when he raised his arm to strike, I caught it in that position with my left hand, and with my right inserted about three inches of a bowie-knife into his side. “He struggled and drew another bowie. I saw he was in earnest, and believed I should be forced to kill him, but just then, the by-standers interfered and stopped the proceedings. “I thought that when he got sober, he would lie willing to drop the matter, but instead of that he swore vengeance on me. He went off, though, soon after, and I did not know what had be come of him. He has turned up again, now, and I don’t think I’ll be annoyed by him any longer.” “ Look! look! marss Jack,” exclaimed How ard, at this juncture: —“look at the horses!’’ “Sure enough 1” said Tom. “Take my rifle, Congo. Now, Jack, follow me.” Off he went, and I, giving my gun to Howard, followed his example. We were by far the best mounted men in the company. In fact our horses were almost thorough-bred, so we felt confident of overtaking the fleetest wild steed on the prairies. The objects of our chase were quietly grazing, with their heads turned from us, when we started, and we got very near before they were aware of our approach. Suddenly, they threw up their heads, and turned to gaze. A moment they stood with distended nostrils, and manes waving in the breeze, as if to satisfy themselves of our intentions. Nothing could present a nobler appearance than did these free, wild denizens of the prairies, as they stood thus, beholding the intruders on their domain. I was surprised that they allowed us to lido so close; but finally they wheeled and thundered off over the plain. Tom selected a dappled gray, the finest looking horse in the herd, and pressed after him. “ You see that black colt. Jack?” said he. “ Yes." “Well, put after him." “ Never mind; I know I can’t do any thing with him, so I’ll follow you, and see your opera tion.” “ Come on, then.” The buffalo chase was exciting enough; but so far as pace was concerned, it was slow, com pared with this. We soon passed most of the lierd, and they scattered in different directions; but in spite of the blood we rode, the gallant gray still kept ahead. “ He’s making for the hills, Jack, and if he gets there I’ll give him up, for I must be looking out for Jim Shirley when we get there.” “ How far are the hills?” I asked “About a mile.” “Well, we are gaining a little.” “ I Indieve we are. Get up, Burnt Tail 1” We were now closing the gap between us and our “ game," and soon were near enough for Tom to twirl his lasso, He threw it once and missed, because the gray dodged. Again, it just hung on one ear. The third time the wild horse was noosed. “ Now, Jack, if you want some of the fun,” said Tom, “ let me give you the end of this rope.” “ Willingly,” I answered. But this was easier said than done, for the touch of the lasso had got a new rate of speed out of the frightened gray, and as we all three were tearing along at a killing pace, Tom, in trying to give me the end of his thong, dropped it. “ Just let me see if I can’t pick it up,” said I. “ Go it, then, but give me yours.” “ Here it is.” A hard struggle I had for it, but finally suc ceeded. A few more bounds, and Tom, riding on the side opposite me, threw the other lasso. Then commenced a regular row. Tom was an old hand, and knew how to jerk and tease a horse into submission ; but he said he had never lassoed so powerful an animal, and, though there was no chance for the horse to get away, he afforded us plenty of sport and exercise. We worried him down, however, and turned toward the camp. Meeting our servants, Tom gave his captive to Congo to carry back, and wc dismounted to breathe our tired horses. Once more we started toward the hills. “I think,” said Tom, “we could find deer here, or, perhaps, a panther, but that scoundrel has spoiled our hunt for to-day.” “Wouldn’t it lie best,” I asked, “to take Hinks before the Captain, let him give information, and arrest your man ?” “No,” answered my companion, in a calm tone; but his eye flashed and his lips were pressed closely. “No; that would be temporizing.— I would not trouble myself to explain the thing to every one; but I rather think you and I are destined to become friends, and I am anxious that you shall understand me. The fact is, al though I pass for a courageous man, I am afraid for Shirley to live. lam uneasy while he con tinually threatens my life.” “Well,” answered I, “you have doubtless looked at the matter in every light, and are more competent to decide what is your best course, than I am, so I say no more.” We soon came to the hills. “I must ride round, and see where the hound has passed,” said Tom. “ Can I help you ?” enquired I. “Yes. But Congo can help you to help me. Let Howard go with me, while you take my ser vant, and pass round in the other direction ; but don’t enter the wood. Let a rifle shot be the signal that tiie trail is found.” We parted company, taking different direc tions. Congo and I iooked eagerly for horse tracks, but found none. Soon the sharp crack of a rifle was heard, and at the signal, we retraced our steps, continuing round, in the direction in which Tom had started. We found the latter, with Howard, sitting on his horse, some distance from the foot of the first hill. “Here is where our man passed,” said he, as Congo and I rode up. “I can’t say that 1 see the sign,” was my reply, as I looked with all my might, “How the mis chief can you see a horse’s track in this long grass ?’’ “Congo, can’t you show Mr. Hopeton the trail ?” “Yes, sir,” answered the darkey. “Here it is, sir,” he continued, placing his hand upon the exact spots vhere the hoofs had crushed the herbage. “I must acknowledge,” said I, “that if Congo had not gone with me to look for ‘signs,’ I should have done a poor business at it.” “So I knew,” said my friend. “But what will you do now ?” “Do you see that large tree, yonder, with the branches sweeping the ground, surrounded by an almost impenetrable thicket ?” “Yes.” “Well, Shirley’s horse is tied under it.” “How do you know that ?” “Because he neighed, when I first rode up, and I saw the branches shake. The assassin dog thought we would enter on the side next the camp, and so he came all the way round here to fasten his horse.” “Do you suppose lie is also under the same cover?” “Not now. After hiding his horse, as lie thought, he commenced ranging the hills on foot, seeking an opportunity to slay me.” “I don't know that I exactly understand your intention, Tom. Do you intend to poke along through the woods, and let this fellow shoot you like a dog ?” “There’s nothing farther from my intention. I expected to send you all on ahead to drive the wood, making a noise to draw Shirley out of cover, while I followed behind, at a distance suf ficient to prevent his being frightened out of his intention by you. If I had gone before, you know, he might have shot me down like a dog, sure enough. After you had gone ahead a good way, I should have attracted my gentleman’s at tention, and then, ‘each man for himself, and God over all.’ ” “But I have a better plan than that,” contin ued Tom. “We wasted so much time after that wild-horse, that Shirley has doubtless grown tired waiting for me. No doubt he heard my ri fle, and will soon be back this way. You, then, must ride past that point in the wood, conceal yourselves, and wait the event. If you are in sight, no attack will me made.” “Surely, though, you are not going to stand here, and wait for that fellow to take a fair shot at you ?” “Can’t I get behind my horse ? lam obliged to you for your solicitude, Jack, but you are young yet. I am an old stager, and know how to take care of myself.” It was useless to say more, and I went to take the station assigned me, managing to conceal myself, and still have a full view of Toni and the place where he had told me the horse was hidden. Soon after I had reached tho stand, my friend seemed to change his plan a little, for he rode some distance down the line of forest, and entered it, passing out of my sight. Gazing with painful intensity, I soon saw the face of the sinister-looking dog, Shirley, peering from tho afore-mentioned thicket. He looked round cau tiously and anxiously. While he was reconnoitering, I saw Tom Harper emerge from liis retreat, and walk a step or two into the prairie, gazing intently on' the ground. Shirley saw him at the same moment, and instinctively raised his rifle. Mine was brought up full as quickly, but the distance was too great for either of us to do any execu tion, and this was perceived by the skulking scoundrel, who immediately lowered his piece, and slunk back. Tom began to approach the spot where his en emy was concealed. I could stand it no longer, and commenced crawling towards the scene of action. But, though one would have said that Tom was merely looking for a trail, as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground, I noticed that he entered the wood again, before he came within the range of Shirley’s rifle. When I finally halted, the thicket was almost impenetrable to the eye ; but a little way off, the woods were much more open. Happening to look in that direction, wlmt was my astonish ment, to see a hideous-looking Indian, crouch ing behind the trunk of a huge tree, and watching the spot where Shirley was lurking.— Here was a situation ! The ranger, concealed, as he thought, waiting his opportunity to send his leaden messenger of death to the heart of the man he hated ; that man, conscious of liis in tention, and endeavoring to draw his fire ; the Indian, apparently, seeking an opportunity to steal upon the would-be-assassirf, while I, hidden from all three, viewed the movements of all. Presently, the Indian crept stealthily from his tree, and moved towards Shirley’s post. Soon a thicket intervened between him and me, and I could no longer see him. At the spot where Tom was last seen by me, the branches of the trees were occasionally shaken, and sometimes a hand, or the skirt of a coat, protruded itself into view. So intent was Shirley on watching all these manifestations, that an army might have come upon him unawares. At last, he once more slowly raised his rifle. Never in my life was I more agitated. I did not wish to kill the man, but I was unwilling for him to have a shot at n.y friend, although I believe the latter knew what he was about, and was probably trying to draw the enemy’s fire by exhibiting his cap, or some other part of his dress, as a target. I was a good marksman, however, and almost resolved to prevent the possibility of murder, by aiming a bullet at the body of Shir ley. While I was debating the question with my self, the clear report of a rifie echoed through the wood, and Jim Shirley, leaping straight up ward, fell at full length on the ground. A glance showed me whence this diversion had come. A slight wreath of smoke was curling round the thicket where I had last seen the Indian, and it was not long before his form emerged from its concealment, and approached the body of the fallen white man. At the same time, Tom and I started toward the scene of action, I thinking there could hardly bo much danger in an Indian, with an empty rifle, against two men as well provided with fire-arms as we were. With brandished tomahawk, tho red man continued to approach his fallen foe, when, just as he reached the spot, lie perceived us. Apparently, he determined not to lose the trophy of his exploit; so, hastily drawing his scalping knife, he tore the reeking scalp from the head of the luckless Shirley, and, springing to one side, bounded off with the speed of an antelope, at the same time raising liis hor rid war-whoop. I waited to see what action Tom would take. At first, he leaned on his rifle, gazing at the form of the Indian, as he darted off through the thicket; but when that fierce yell rang on the air, ho brought liis rifle quickly to his face, and fired. The dusky warrior sped on, unharmed. The trees stood far too thick, even for Tom's skill. My chance was better, as but few trees were in the space between me and the course taken by the red skin. I followed my friend’s example, and sent a bullet after our flying foe. Unlike tho first, it did execution, for the Indian clapped his hand to his side, stumbled to liis knees, re covered himself, ran blindly and staggeringly a few paces, stumbled again, and—fell prostrate. “Well done, Jack I” cried Tom. “You are as good a shot as any of us; and then, you are the luckiest mortal in the world.” “But, why did you shoot at him?” I inquired, “ when lie had just killed the man who was try ing to assassinate you ?” “ Because the devil raised that infernal war whoop. Ho was merely a scout, and his party will be on us in a twinkling. Load your rifle, and to horse! Quick!” We loaded as quickly as the prospect of an encounter with an Indian war-party could force us. “Now,” said Tom, “get on Charley’s back as soon as may be, and ride for the camp.” I hastened toward the spot where I had left the negroes; and, as I did so, heard the tramp of a party of horse galloping through the forest— Soon after, the yells of a troop of Indians impart ed unnatural speed to my footsteps. As I struck out into the plain, accompanied by Congo and Howard, I heard a war-whoop in answer to that of the p irty coming down the hill. Looking in the direction whence it came, what was my horror to see a dozen mounted warriors sweeping round the very spot where Tom had tied his horse; and, worse still, I Baw the latter, having broken loose, scouring acrosg the prairie. The party beliina came rushing down like a whirlwind, having caught a glimpse of us through the trees. I thought of the terrible fate which awaited my friend, provided he fell into the hands of the savages, and how recreant it would be in me to leave him. I turned my horse’s head toward the wood. A moment’s reflection, however, convinced me that, by remaining, I should merely bring destruction on my own head, without the least chance of rescuing Tom. I saw the Indians dive into the wood, and soon knew, by their shouts of exultation, that they had effected a capture. Not a moment was* to be lost. Regard for my own safety urged me to place as great a dis tance as possible between myself and the blood thirsty wretches in pursuit of me; and the thought that the only chance to save Tom’s life was by bringing the rangers to his aid, speeded my flight. For my own safety, I felt little ap prehension, as I knew that the mustangs would be easily shaken off by the blooded animals rid den by myself and the negroes. The Indianp, as they came tearing and yelling in our rear, soon perceived this, and, discharging their rifles at us, they gave up the pursuit. Turning to look at them, my first impulse was to give a random shot; but the thought that it might exasperate them to treat their captive with greater cruelty than they otherwise would, restrained me; and I galloped on. Arrived at the camp, I hurriedly told our adventure to Cap tain Preston, and entreated that he would order the rangers to the rescue. It needed no urging to induce the excellent Captain to issue hasty or ders. “What was the number of Indians?” he asked. “As nearly as I could judge,” was my answer, “ about thirty in all. Certainly not more.” “ Then forty of us will go. They must see that resistance will be useless, in order for us to rescue Tom alive.” “ But they have a long way the start of us, Captain.” “ That is true, and I am uneasy about poor Tom; but we must ‘hope on. hope over.’ ” “We soon started, I on a fresh horse, and went thundering along at a rapid pace. The idea that we might not be able to overtake the sav ages, or that they might take a notion to torture their captive before we could .interfere in his behalf, rendered me almost frantic, and I could see that although Captain Preston maintained a calm exterior, it was at the cost of a mighty ef fort. “ Poor Tom !” said he, “ I have lost several brothers in my life ; but even their death did not afflict me more than would that of my bosom friend.” “ Let us not talk of it, Captain,” I said; “ but do urge the troop a little faster.” “All our horses are not thorough-bred, Jack; and the speed is now as great as they can l>ear, considering the distance they have to go.” “ I know you are right. lam half crazy, though, at the idea that even now they may be preparing the stake for our friend.” “ They will not precipitate the matter. In dians are never in hasto to deal with their cap tives. They will take him to their camp, and hold a grand pow-uxno before they decide on his fate.” “ But, Captain, how will we bo able to know’ the course they take ?” “ Oh, the trail made by such a party will be so plain, a child might follow it. But, see yon der, Jack! A horseman comes galloping to wards us.” “ Sure enough.” We both gazed eagerly. Our pace was not slackened, and the man on horse-bark neared us rapidly. His appearance was familiar, and I turned to direct an inquiring glance toward the Captain. He had turned to me for the same pur pose. “I hardly dare ask, Jack,” said he, “but is it — can it be—Tom ?” “Ido believe it is,” an wered I, “or some one vastly like him.” (to be continued.) Origin of the Prairies.— Professor Wilber, State Geologist of Illinois, has recently delivered a series of admirable lectures on his favorite science. We copy from the Genesee Republic the following abstract of his theory on the origin and formation of the prairies : Prof. Wilber adopts the theory that at one time—very far back in its history—this vast country formed a portion of the bottom of the ocean—that through the eruption caused by the internal heat together with the labor and activity of those master masons, the coral insects, our continent was raised to its pjpsent position above the water. To prove this bold proposition he refers to the many indicia of salt water presence, the frequent occurrence of shells which legiti mately only belong to animals of the sea—the evidence furnished by the rocks of the labor of the zoophytes, unmistakable in its development; the frequent discovery of the remains of mons ters of the sea deep imbedded in our limestono system, the existence upon our surface of huge boulders, the former appanages of polar shores, drifted far away to the Southw’cst imbedded in huge frames of ice, and dropped down at length upon the ocean’s bed, whence they arose with our continent. The arguments, if not quite con clusive, are eminently suggestive, and should open the eyes of thinking men to the wondrous mysteries buried deep in the earth upon which we so familiarly tread. The existence of our prairies is accounted for in this wise : Ihe result of the “ drift system” was to give to this part of the country a soil of unparalleled fertility, and, arising from this, were the very large grasses, which are peculiar to this soil alone; luxuriant, and undisturbed, they grew to a great height, and fairly wove the sur face of the earth with a thick, almost impenetra ble covering. In the autumn, when this mass of .combustible matter was dry, how easy for a shaft of lightning to send a conflagration from one boundary of the country to the other. The sprouting twigs of sturdier growth would perish by the frequent occurrence of these fires, and hence the treeless appearance of the West. To aid the idea, it is claimed that the Indians, when they did arrive, which is supposed to have been long subsequent to the first period mentioned, regularly burned the prairie grasses, for the pur pose of driving the game into more circumscribed quarters, so that it might full an easy prey to their arrows, and to lesson the difficulty of travelling.— Life Illustrated. “ Sure enough.”