and seemed to be looking for a place where they could cross to the other side.

They were two powerful-looking fellows, as they walked on with their rifles on their shoulders, and the elegantly fringed leggings, the closelyfitting and carefully soled mocassins, showed that they had assumed the habits of the woods, and were not of those "land hunters" who, especially at that day, had begun traversing the western part of the state, in order to find out the most favourably situated districts, and purchase, or at least lay claim to them.

"Bill," one of them at last said, as he stopped, "our searching is of no use--you see I was right; the stream is here too wide for us to find a tree lying across it, and if I really went to work with my little tomahawk, and felled one of the nearest plane-trees, it would not be long enough. Besides, a heavy storm is gathering behind us, and I think we should not do wrong were we to make arrangements for passing this night better than the last : it will be bitterly cold."

"It's very annoying, though," Bill answered his brother, crossly, "that we could not reach the ravine over there to-night, for, in the first place, we should find famous quarters in one of the numerous caves, and then, besides, I should have liked to look for bears; there are sure to be some there. The water's too cold for us to swim across, and the storm will not be a trifling one; so then, to work; here are old trees enough lying about, and a bark roof can be easily made.”

"There are almost too many trees lying about," Tom replied, looking all round him, "and those still standing seem rotten and ready to fall. I do not much like the thought of camping here, for you know the story father once told us about such a place."

"Nonsense!" Bill said, laughingly. "Can we find a better campingplace? The little stream runs along at our feet, there's plenty of wood close handy, the young trees will furnish famous poles, and the bark there is first-rate for a roof."

Tom made no further objections; the spot looked too inviting, and they were both soon engaged in raising a rough shelter for that night at least, which could afford them refuge against the collecting storm. Under such good hands the work was easily accomplished, and the next halfhour found both under their quickly erected roof, watching the pieces of meat broiling on the fire.

"It's strange how cold it has suddenly turned," Tom at length broke the silence; " only look, the water in the tin pan is frozen quite hard, and the wind has chopped round to the north-east; it blows confoundedly sharp, too."

"Let it blow," Bill yawned, as he wrapped himself closely in the folds of his blanket; "I am tired, and want to sleep, Tom. Lay a couple of boughs on the fire before you turn in, and the one first awake to-morrow must rouse the other."

Midnight was past, and the fire had nearly expired, but the two brothers slept firmly, and the icy north wind that howled over the snowclad hills into the valley could not disturb their slumber. Heavy masses of clouds had, however, collected together from various quarters; darkly threatening they brooded over the rustling forest, and the stately trees

shook and bowed their leafless branches, as if in timid foreboding of the approaching storm. A bright flash of lightning suddenly burst from the black heavens, and a terrific peal of thunder almost instantaneously followed the messenger of destruction. One of the terrible winter storms was impending, and the unchained hurricane howled and tore through the narrow mountain ravines.

"Bill!" cried Tom, springing up in horror-" Bill, get up; we dare not lie down; see how the old trees quiver; and do you hear, there's one of them cracking?"

"Hallo!" Bill replied, as he quickly threw off his blanket, "has it caught us? Hi! Tom, lay hold of the roof; I'm blessed if the confounded north-wester won't take it along with it."

His fear was not entirely unfounded, for at the same instant such a furious blast burst from the opposite valley that it half uncovered their resting-place in a second, and burning ashes and sparks were carried far away into the gloom of night. A lightning flash again burst forth from the clouds, and the thunder deadened the sound of the howling storm. Then it suddenly seemed as if the whole earth were torn from its foundations; far, far away, on it came; at first indistinctly with a hollow sound, like the crash of a thousand cannon; then nearer and nearer it roared, spreading wild and terrible overthrow and harrowing desolation around.

"Almighty God, a hurricane!" Tom cried, starting up in terror, for at the same moment the storm reached them. The giant trunks, which had withstood centuries, bowed like thin twigs, and with one blow, that struck terror to the heart of the listeners, the whole forest was mown level with the earth by the hand of the Almighty. The hurricane raged further and further with frightful velocity; for miles around it overthrew the tall oaks, and hurled them like reeds to the ground; for miles it marked its path with desolation and destruction; but silence, grave-like silence, followed in its track, and rested over the wildly-scattered trees: not a breath was stirring, and the calmness of death, after this horrifying outbreak of the elements, affected the poor heart of a mortal with a more agonising shudder than it had felt even in the most terrible fury of the storm.

Bill had miraculously escaped, without even the slightest injury; clinging tightly to an immense tree that had previously fallen, another oak that fell across it only served to save him, as it guarded him from the other continually falling branches and smaller trees; but now, as soon as the first most pressing danger was passed, he jumped up and cried, filled with terror, to his brother:

"Tom-brother Tom-do answer, Tom. Great God has such a terrible end fallen to your share!"

No! it would have been well for him if that had been his lot; he still lived, and his weak voice, at no great distance, struck the hunter's attentive ear.

"All-merciful Heavens!" the latter cried, when he had quickly leaped over a couple of trees lying in the way, and, with a blazing pine-torch in his hand, stood before him he sought. "All-merciful Heavens!" he repeated, in almost maddening agony, and covered his face with his hands, for close to him, pale as a corpse, with both thighs buried beneath an

immense oak, which was shattered from top to bottom, lay his Tom, his brother, the playmate of his youth, the darling of his heart.

"It's very cold," the unhappy man whispered, and looked up imploringly to the hunter, who, apparently incapable of any further movement, stood near him as if hewn out of stone-"it's very cold, Bill; can't you bring me a little fire ?"

These words broke the charm which seemed to possess his half unconscious brother.

"Tom, Tom!" he cried, as he threw himself with groans on the mutilated body of his dearest companion.

"You hurt me, Bill," the latter entreated; "my arm pains me, and it is so cold."

"Wait, you shall have fire-in a few seconds," Bill now cried, as he sprung hastily up; "lie there a minute longer, and I'll fetch some ashes, and then help you up-only a moment's patience;" and in wild haste he flew back to the still burning camp-fire. Ah! he did not notice the weak, painful smile which stole over the features of the unhappy man, as he begged him to "have patience." He hurriedly collected all the ashes and burning wood his arms could hold-the flames scorched his hunting-shirt and hands-he did not notice it, and flew back to his brother's side plenty of drift-wood lay around, and in a few moments a bright, cheering fire flared by the side of the tree, under whose giant weight the poor fellow lay buried alive.

Bill now regarded with a shudder the terrible scene, and madly threw himself on the tree, which a hundred men could not have raised, and tried his own utmost strength on an impossibility.

66

"Bill!" Tom gently begged him, come here, come-give me your hand-that's right. And now, Bill-do you really love me?"

A convulsive grasp of his brother's hand answered this question : speak he could not, for the tears he had suppressed with difficulty suffocated every sound.

"Will you do me a service ?" Tom implored, drawing the unresisting man closer to him.

"A service!" Bill whispered-" a service! What can you ask that I would not do for you, if it was in my power ?"

"You promise to do it?"

"What is it ?" the hunter asked, in terror.

"Take your rifle," Tom begged, "and-put an end to my suffer

ings."

"Tom !" the other cried,

"Bill!

"Put an end to my sufferings," the unhappy man entreated. brother! if you ever loved me, prove it now. Do not let me perish here slowly and horribly."

66

I will save you, if it cost my own life," Bill cried. "I will return with assistance this very night."

"That is not possible," the poor fellow replied, sorrowfully shaking his head. "The next settlement is, by the nearest road, at least fifteen miles from here; but the road you would have to take to go round all the rocks and ravines, is twenty; and if you came back, if you brought fifty people with you, what help could they give me? Both my thighs

are shattered, and the nearest doctor lives in Little Rock, hundreds of miles from here, and whither we scarce know the direction. Bill, will you let me lie here for days, and afterwards see me perish miserably?"

"Ask my own life, Tom, and you shall have it with pleasure; but don't require such a terrible thing from me: it must be possible to save you I have my tomahawk I can cut this tree through — I

can

"Can you cure wounds like these ?" Tom interrupted him, and pointed with his hand to his thighs. It was a terrible sight, and the brother fell upon his knees, with a groan.

"I cannot murder you," he gently said.

"And do you call that murder? Oh, Bill!" he continued, "could you only fancy the pain I am now suffering, you would take compassionwould not let me beg in vain."

"I will give you the rifle-don't make me my brother's murderer," Bill groaned.

My right arm is also broken; I cannot, even if I would."

"Tom!" the powerful man sobbed, as he threw himself by his brother's side, "what is it you want of me ?"

"What did you lately do to Nestor when the bear had torn him so terribly ?"

"I shot him."

"He was your favourite dog!"

Bill only answered with sobs.

"And you loved him more than me?" Tom now asked, almost reproachfully.

"Oh! why did I not heed your warning when we last evening reached this unhappy spot? why did I not avoid the decayed trees that threatened us on all sides? why”

"Bill!" the unhappy man interrupted him, "do you mean to free me from my torture ?"

"I will!" the poor fellow sobbed on his brother's neck. They held one another in a close embrace for a long while, but when Tom tried to unloose his hold, his brother only held him the tighter. Day at length broke in the east, and the sun shone on the chaos of wildly-scattered trees around.

"Let us part," Tom whispered; "be a man!"

of

He quietly pushed his brother back, and he at length stood up. "Well, then, be it so!" he said. "I see you are right--it is impossible to save you. I know, too, that I should have asked the same in a similar case, and you would not have refused me. Pray to God for the last time, and pray too for me, that he may forgive me the murder of my brother."

you

Bill tottered away to fetch his rifle, but returned in a few moments with a firm and certain step. With his gun in his left hand, he swung himself with the right over the scattered trunks, and soon stood once again by the side of his brother, who looked affectionately in his face.

"I am ready," the latter said, with a smile; "do not tremble, and God reward you for your kindness-good-by!" He offered him his sound hand as he turned his face away.

"Brother!" the tortured hunter cried, in agony, and threw himself again on his breast. Once again they held each other in a close embrace, till Tom entreated gently, "Do not delay any longer." With a hasty bound the hunter stood on his feet, raised his rifle to his cheek, and lay the next moment unconscious by the side of the brother he had shot.

What more have I to tell? Shall I describe how he awoke and piled branch on branch upon his brother's corpse, so that wolf and panther might not fasten their greedy teeth in the beloved remains--how he tottered away, and wrestled with death for months in the wild dreams of fever, carefully nursed by friends? No! enough of this sorrowful tale. His brother's blood-covered face did not long trouble him in his nightly dreams, or cause him to spring in terror from his bed and try to fly-on an expedition against some plundering Creeks, a compassionate bullet put an end to his life, and his friends buried him where he fell. But his has been still retained in that neighbourhood, and when a hunter camps at night, and turns an inquiring glance toward the giant trunks which menacingly surround him, then a gentle prayer parts the lips of even the roughest and wildest of the band, and he whispers, "God preserve me from poor Tom's fate!"

memory

A WORD OR TWO ABOUT CHILDREN.

BY E. P. ROWSELL, ESQ.

I CONFESS that I am quite indifferent to-not to say that I positively dislike the play and prattle of children. I cannot at all enter into the gratification which seems ordinarily excited by the listening to their meaningless sayings and senseless antics. And now, do your worst upon me, oh ye doting mammas, and papas, and grandmammas, for I have declared it.

There are sundry reasons for this apathy on my part. In the first place, a child in the midst of a party of men and women, all of them engaged in the ennobling occupation of amusing him, presents himself to me as the very impersonation of selfishness. Of course there really is little, if any, selfishness in the case; the child is too young, we will suppose, for the vice to have taken possession of him to any extent. But I say such is the idea conveyed. Consider for a moment. The papa is rolling a ball along the floor; the mamma is singing the delightful and inspiriting ballad of "On the tree top" the grandmamma is declaring that "he is a dear child, he is, and he shall go look at the gee-gee out o' doors;" the aunt is dancing; and two visitors are producing cakes and sweetmeats for the dear infant's greedy consumption. And after all, probably, it is a very one-sided matter. The child may be "good," and he may deign to be pleased; whereupon it is declared that there is not such another child in Christendom. The desperate exertions of six