"Did they kill you, daddy?" asked Bub, who now stood at his father's knee, his blue eyes wide with wonder; "tause, if they did, I'll stick my big stick into their backs." There was a suppressed tittering at this, for which the children felt half ashamed, considering the startling intelligence they had just heard. "Mother was afraid you'd have trouble with the Indians," observed Tom, "and she was so much worried that she didn't sleep last night." "Why, the Indians haven't been doing any mischief about here--have they?" asked his father. "No," replied Tom, "and I told mother that there wasn't any danger." But the venison was filling the cabin with its savory smell, and Mrs. Jones said,-- "Hurry, children, and get washed and dressed for breakfast." And going to the basin, which was in its place on the wash-bench outside the door, with much discussion as to who should have the first chance, hands and faces were treated to a hasty bath. Mr. Jones was about forty-five years of age--a short, thick-set man, with dark hair and heavy beard. He was a man of much natural ability, and exhibited singular contrasts in character and speech. The free and easy carriage, and quaint language of the "Leather-stocking," sat easily upon him; and yet, at times, he would express himself in words well chosen, and even elegant. He hated society, and was despised by the settlers for his lack of enterprise; and yet, when circumstances drew him out, they were wonder-struck at the variety and accuracy of his information. These inconsistencies made him a mystery; and he was looked down upon, and looked up to, as his neighbors came in contact with one of the other side of his characteristics. In all, too, that pertained to the habits of the animals, and the appearance of the country, no one was so well posted as he. He was built for physical endurance, was cool and courageous in danger, but could not confine himself to regular employment, bodily or mental. "Isn't Tom coming to breakfast?" inquired Mr. Jones, as the rest of the children were greedily helping themselves from the plate of meat. So the mother related how Tom had been hurt, and then said,-- "But you haven't told us how you received your injury?"