I rose up, and staggering, fell again; my strength was nearly gone. I lay until I thought myself sufficiently recruited to stand, and then got up and surveyed the scene. The animals were tied as I left them, and were eating their cane unconcernedly; but fearfully my well-nigh murderer had paid for his crime, and awful was the retribution Maddened by the spirits, he had rushed into the flames, and, in the charred and loathsome mass, nothing of the human remained; he had died the murderer's death and been buried in his grave,--a tomb of fire. To remain longer in the horrid place was impossible; my throat pained me excessively where the talons had penetrated the flesh, and I could not speak above a whisper. I turned the mule loose, thinking that it would return home, and conduct me out of the swamp. I was not incorrect in my supposition; the creature led me to his owner's cabin. The patient had died during the night. My account of the dwarf's attack did not surprise the family; he had once, when in a similar condition, made an attack upon his mistress, and would have strangled her had assistance not been near. His bones were left to bleach where they lay. I would not for the universe have looked again upon the place; and his mistress being dead, there were none to care for giving him the rites of sepulture. THE END. STREAKS OF SQUATTER LIFE, AND FAR-WEST SCENES. A Series Of Humorous Sketches Descriptive Of Incidents And Character In The Wild West. To Which is Added Other Miscellaneous Pieces. By “Solitaire,” (John S. Robb, of St. Louis, Mo,) 1846 Dan Elkhorn.--I've seen more fun In these yeur diggins than would fill a book, Solitaire--Can I persuade you, Dan, to relate those scenes to me? Dan.--Well, hoss, I won't do anythin' else! To Col. Charles Keemle. Permit me, my friend, to dedicate to you these pages, the first production of my pen in the field of western literature, and allow me to say, that your own graphic relations of far-west scenes, witnessed when this now giant territory was in its infancy, has contributed much to illustrate for me the striking features of western character. You may be set down as one, who has not only been a dweller in the wilds since its primitive days, but an observer of its progress in every stage, from the semi-civilised state until the refinement of polished life has usurped the wilderness. Through this period of transition you have stood unchanged, and that generous and noble nature, which induced the Indian chieftain, in by-gone days, to style you as the “Gray Eagle” of the forest, calls forth this humble tribute of regard from your friend. John S. Robb. PREFACE.