' Ralph and I soon became inseparable
friends. His joys as well as his sorrows were mine; in a word, we shared
each other's sympathies; and this leads me to the scene of the log
cabin. We often hunted together, and while on our last expedition, took
an oath of friendship which should end only with death--and how soon was
it to end! We left the infant Cincinnati one summer morning at the
rising of the sun, and with our guns on our shoulders, and our pouches
well supplied with ammunition, we struck into the deep wilderness,
trusting to our own stout hearts and woodscraft for our food and safety.
We journeyed merrily along, whiling away the hours in recounting to each
other those trivial incidents of our lives which might be interesting,
or in singing snatches of song, and listening to its solemn echo as it
reverberated among the tall trees of the forest. Towards evening we
reached our first camping ground--a spot near where the town of Sharon
now stands. Here we pitched our tent, built our fire, cooked our
suppers, and prepared to pass away the evening as comfortably as two
hunters possibly could. All at once the deep stillness which reigned
around us was broken by a low cry similar to that of a panther.
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