young man partook of a hearty lunch and resigned himself to dreams of
life under the greenwood tree.

After an hour's rest, again in the saddle and on--on, through
recurring scenes of wildness, waste, and beauty. Just as the stars
began to glint forth and the traveller and horse felt willing perhaps
to confess to a little weariness, they saw the light of the expected
cabin fire in the distance. Cæsar gave a low whinny of approval and
hastened on.

Two or three red-shirted, long-bearded men gave them a rude welcome.
They blanketed and fed Cæsar, and picketed him under a low shed built
of logs.

John, as hungry as a famished bear, drank a deep draught of a black
concoction called tea, which his friends here presented to him, ate a
powerful piece of dark bread, interlarded with fried pork, drew up
with the others around the fire, and, in reply to their curious
questionings, gave them the latest news from the outside world.

For this information he was rewarded by the strange and stirring
adventures of wilderness life they related during the quickly flitting
evening hours.

They told of the scores who went into the forest in the early part of
winter, not to return until late in the spring; of snow-storms and
packs of wolves; of herds of deer and moose; they related thrilling
stories of men crushed by falling trees, or jammed between logs in the
streams, together with incidents of the long winter evenings, usually
spent by them in story telling and card playing. Thus he became