“Old Bill could go no further.  He buried his face in his hands an’ cried like a child.  At length, by a strong effort, he choked down his sobs, and went on.

“‘I knew no more until I found myself lyin’ in the cabin of an ole hunter, who lived about ten miles from where we used to live.  He had been out huntin’, an’ had found me lyin’ close beside my father an’ mother.  He thought I was dead, too, at first, but he found no wounds on me; so, arter buryin’ all my relatives in one grave, he took me home with him.  In three or four days I was able to get around again; an’, beggin’ a rifle an’ some powder an’ ball of the ole hunter, I started out.  I went straight to the grave that contained all I loved on earth, an’ there, kneelin’ above their heads, I swore that my life should be devoted to but one object—­vengeance on the villains who had robbed me of all my happiness.  How well I have kept my oath the notches on my knife will show.  Seven of them have fallen by my tomahawk; one only is left, an’ that is Mountain Tom.  For fifteen long years I have been on his trail; but the time will come when my vengeance will be complete.’

“An’ the ole man rolled himself up in his blanket, an’, turning his back to me, sobbed himself to sleep.

“But my story is not yet told,” continued Dick.  “About a year arter this, Bill an’ me were ridin’ along, about noon, in a little valley among the mountains, when we came, all of a sudden, on the camp of two trappers.

“‘Heaven be praised! there he is!’ said ole Bill.

“An’, swinging himself from his horse, he strode up to one of the men, who sprang from his blanket, and ejaculated,

“‘Bill Lawson!’

“‘Yea, Mountain Tom,’ said ole Bill, ‘I’m here.  You an’ me have got a long reckonin’ to settle now.’

“The villain at first turned as pale as a skewer; but he seemed to regain his courage, and exclaimed,

“‘It won’t take us long to settle up,’

“And, quick as lightnin’, he drew his knife, an’ made a pass at Bill.

“But he had got the wrong buck by the horn.  The ole man was as quick as he; an’, grabbin’ hold of his arm, he took the knife away from him as if he had been a baby.

“‘Tom,’ said he, as he drew his tomahawk from his belt, ’I’ve followed you all over this country for fifteen years, an’, thank Heaven, I’ve found you at last.’

“‘Oh, Bill,’ shrieked the condemned man, sinkin’ on his knees before the ole man, ‘I was—­’

“‘Stand up,’ said Bill, ketchin’ hold of him, an’ jerkin’ him to his feet.  ‘You were brave enough when you were killing my wounded father.’

“‘Oh, Bill—­’

“‘With the tomahawk you killed my father, an’ by the tomahawk you shall die.’

“‘For mercy’s sake, Bill,’ again shrieked the terrified man, taking hold of a tree for support, ‘hear me!’

“The tomahawk descended like a streak of light, and the last of the murderers sank at the ole man’s feet.  The eighth notch was added to those on the knife, an’ the debt was canceled.”