interest, or without exciting a feeling of compassion towards the unfortunate outcast.

One of the prisoners belonging to the out-gangs, being sent into camp on a Saturday, to draw the weekly allowance of provision for his mess, fell unfortunately into the company of a party of convicts, who were playing cards for their allowance, a thing very frequent among them. With as little resolution as his superior in similar situations, after being awhile a looker-on, he at length suffered himself to be persuaded to take a hand; and, in the event, lost not only his own portion, but that of the whole mess. Being a man of a timid nature, his misfortune overcame his reason, and conceiving his situation among his messmates insupportable, he formed and executed the extravagant resolution of absconding into the glens. Every possible inquiry was now made after him: it was known that he had drawn the allowance of his mess, and almost in the same moment discovered that he had lost it at play; search upon search, however, was made to no purpose. However, as it was impossible that he could subsist without occasional maurauding, it was believed that he must shortly be taken in his predatory excursions. These expectations, however, were in vain; for the fellow managed his business with such dexterity, keeping closely within his retreat during the day, and marauding for his subsistence only by night, that, in despite of the narrow compass of the island, he eluded all search. His nocturnal depredations were solely confined to the supply of his necessities; Indian corn, potatoes, pumpkins and melons. He seldom visited the same place a second time; but shifting from place to place, always contrived to make his escape almost before the theft was discovered, or the depredator suspected. In vain was a reward offered for his apprehension, and year after year every possible search instituted; at times it was considered that he was dead, till the revival of the old trade proved that the dexterous and invisible thief still existed.

In the pursuit of him, his pursuers have often been so near him, that he has not unfrequently heard their wishes that they might be so fortunate as to fall in with him. The reward being promised in spirits, a temptation to which many would have sacrificed their brother, excited almost

the whole island to join in the pursuit; and even those whose respectability set them above any pecuniary compensation, were animated with the desire of hunting in so extraordinary a chase. These circumstances concurred to aggravate the terror of the unhappy fugitive, as, from his repeated depredations, he indulged no hope of pardon.

Nothing of this kind, however, was intended; it was humanely thought that he had already sustained sufficient punishment for his original crime, and that his subsequent depredations, being solely confined to necessary food, were venial, and rendered him a subject rather of pity than of criminal infliction. Of these resolutions, however, he knew nothing, and therefore his terror continued.

Chance, however, at length accomplished what had baffled every design. One morning, about break of day, a man going to his labor observed a fellow hastily crossing the road; he was instantly struck with the idea that this must be the man, the object of such general pursuit. Animated with this belief, he exerted his utmost efforts to seize him, and after a vigorous opposition on the part of the poor fugitive, finally succeeded in his design. It was to no purpose to assure the affrighted wretch that his life was safe, and that his apprehension was only sought to relieve him from a life more suited to a beast than a human creature.

The news of this apprehension flew through the island, and every one was more curious than another to gain a sight of this phenomenon, who for upwards of five years had so effectually secluded himself from all human society. Upon being brought into the camp, and the presence of the governor, never did a condemned malefactor feel more acutely; he appeared to imagine that the moment of his execution approached, and, trembling in every joint, seemed to turn his eyes in search of the executioner. His person was such as may well be conceived from his long seclusion from human society; his beard had never been shaved from the moment of his first disappearance; he was clothed in some rags he had picked up by the way in some of his nocturnal peregrinations, and even his own language was at first unutterable and unintelligible by him.

After some previous questions, as to what had induced him to form such a resolution, and by what means he had

so long subsisted, the governor gave him his pardon, and restored him to society, of which he afterwards became a very useful member.

STORY OF A HUNTER.

THE following story comes to us from a friend, who actually heard it related by a person in the manner herein described. About thirty-five years ago I moved into this country, which was then nearly a wilderness; no settlements having been made, excepting in a few places on the borders of the lake. I arrived in the spring of the year, and commenced a clearing on the farm I now occupy. By fall I had built a good loghouse, and temporary stables for my cattle-had put in the ground ten acres of wheat, and looked forward to the ensuing year for the reward of my labors. My wife and child were all my family; neighbors there were none, nearer than five or six miles, so that visiting or amusements were entirely out of the question. You may, therefore, suppose, that on the approach of a long northern winter, I had ample time to gratify my love. for hunting, for which I had always a great fondness. Winter had set in early, and all my cares were confined to keeping a sufficient stock of wood on hand for fuel, which you may imagine was not difficult, when the trees stood at my door, and taking care of the few cattle of which I was then owner. It was one day, I think in the fore part of December, when, having finished my morning's work, I took down my gun, and told my wife that I would, on my return, please her with the sight of a fat deer. Deer are now very plentiful in this part of the country, but then they were so much more so, that there was little merit or difficulty in achieving what I had promised. I took my departure about a northwest course from my cabin, which led me directly into the forest. The snow was about a foot deep, and the wind blowing hard from the north, it drifted much in openings; yet this, I thought, was in my favor, as the noise made among the trees by

the wind, prevented the game from hearing my approach in still hunting. But I was mistaken in my calculations; for I had traveled five or six miles from home, and had not got a shot at a single deer, though I had seen numbers of them; but they were always on the run, and at too great a distance, and all the trees which I saw showed that they had scarcely walked dur ing the day.

I was then a young hunter, but I have since learned that this animal is always on the move, and generally runs throughout winter days, probably from the apprehension of danger from wolves, which follow its scent through the snow. At length I arrived at a large cedar swamp, on the edge of which I was struck by the singular appearance of a large stub, twenty-five or thirty feet high, with its bark off. From its scratched surface, I had no doubt it was climbed by raccoons or martins, which probably had also a den in it. From its appearance, I judged it was hollow. The stub at its base might have been seven or eight feet through, but eight or ten feet higher up, its size was much diminished, so that I could grasp sufficiently to ascend it, and ascertain what was within. My gun and great-coat were deposited in a secure place, and being an expert climber, I soon gained the top. As I anticipated, the stub was hollow, the aperture being about two and a half feet in diameter. The day, you will observe, was dark and cloudy, and looking down the hollow, I fancied I could see the bottom at no great distance; but having nothing to put in to ascertain its depth, I concluded that I would try to touch the bottom with my feet. I therefore placed myself in the hole, and lowered myself gradually, expecting every moment that my feet would come in contact with some animal, or the foot of the hollow; but feeling nothing, I unthinkingly continued letting myself down, until my head and hands, and my whole person, were completely within the centre of the stub. At this moment a sudden and strange fear came over me; I know not from what cause, for I am not naturally timid. It seemed to affect me with a sense of suffocation, such as is experienced in dreams under the effects of nightmare. Rendered desperate by my feel

ings, I made a violent attempt to extricate myself, when the edges of the wood to which I was holding, treacherously gave way, and precipitated me to the bottom of the hole, which I found extended to a level with the ground. I cannot wholly account for it, but probably from the erect position in which my body was necessarily kept in so narrow a tube, and my landing on my feet on a bed of moss, dried leaves, and other soft substances, I sustained little or no injury from so great a fall; and my clothes were but little deranged in my descent, owing, probably, to the smoothness of the surface, produced by the long and frequent passing of the animals to and from their den-for a den I found it to be. After recovering from my fright, I had time to examine the interior. All was dark, and putting out my hands to feel the way, they came in contact with the cold nose, and then the fur of some beast, which I immediately knew was a half grown cub, or young bear.

Continuing to examine, I ascertained there were three or four of those animals, which, aroused by the noise made in my descent, came around and smelt of me, uttering a mourning noise, taking me, at first, no doubt, for their dam; but, after a little examination, snuffing and snorting as if alarmed, they quietly betook themselves to their couch on the moss, and left me to my own gloomy reflections. I knew they were too young to do me any injury, but with that knowledge came the dreadful certainty, that the mother, whose premises I had so heedlessly entered, was quite a different personage, and that my life would date but a short period after she arrived, as arrive she certainly would, before many hours could pass over my head. The interior of the den grew more visible after my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and aided by a little light from the top, I discovered that the den was circular, and, on the ground, was five or six feet in diameter, its circumference diminishing, at the height of seven or eight feet, to a diameter of less than three, owing to the singular formation of the trunk, as I have before remarked. All my attempts to reach the narrow part of the hollow, in the hopes of working my way out, as a