"Boys," said McKinstry, "when we get through with this war, you must come to the Amoskeag Falls, and visit your old friends. We've got some fine men there,--one's a great wrestler. I don't think your Jonas Parker could have stood up very long against him. His name is John McNeil. He is six feet six inches high, and used to be strong as a bull. He is a North of Ireland man, and had a quarrel with some big Injun over there, who came along on horseback, and struck at him with his whip. John pulled him off his horse, gave him a pounding, and had to leave the country. He settled at the Falls, and no man, white or red, could stand up against him for a minute. His wife, Christie, is a good mate to him, a big, brawny woman. One day a stranger came to the house and asked: 'Is Mr. McNeil at home?' "'No,' says Christie; 'the gude man is away.' "'That's a pity; for I hear that McNeil is a very strong man, and a great wrestler; and I've come a very long distance to throw him.' "'Troth, man,' says she, 'Johnny is gone. But I'm not the woman to see ye disappointed, and I think if ye'll try me, I'll thraw ye myself.' "The man didn't like to be stumped by a woman and accepted the challenge. Christie threw him, and he cleared out without leaving his name." "That's a braw couple," says Hector. "I hope there were no quarrels in that household." "No, indeed; as nice, peaceable, and respectable a couple as you could find in the whole Province. It's a fine sight to see the old man and his wife seated in front of the fire, smoking their pipes, and their big sons around them." "I'd like to see them. But what I do want to see is a panther or catamount. There's very little game left in Lexington. Now and then a bear, but the catamounts went long before my day. I suppose you have killed them." [Sidenote: A HAZARDOUS ADVENTURE] "Yes, I've killed some; but Martin's brothers did about the best thing in that way that I know of. Tell them about it, Martin." "All right. We lived on the Merrimac, at a ferry that they called after us, Martin's Ferry. Father died when we were little chaps. Mother was strong, and we got along farming, hunting, and running the ferry. One day in winter, when I was about thirteen years old, my brothers, Nat and Ebenezer, went up to Nott's Brook, to see if they could find some deer yarded in the swamp. They came on a big track, followed it, and saw a catamount eating a deer it had killed. Nat had an axe, and Eben a club. Nat said, 'Let's kill him, Eben.' "'All right. It's a pretty slim show, but I'm in for it. How'll we do it?' "'You go up in front of him and shake your club to take his attention, and I'll creep up behind and hit him with the axe.' "'I don't think there's much fun shaking a club in a panther's face; but if you're sure you'll kill him, I'll try it.'