sat open-mouthed and open-eyed listening to this account of the Wild Man of the West.
For some time the party round the camp-fire sat smoking in silence, ruminating on what had been said. Then Big Waller broke the silence with one of his abrupt questions,—
"But, I say, stranger, how did you come here?"
Bertram looked up without speaking. Then, settling himself comfortably in a reclining position, with his back against a tree, he said,—
"I will relieve your curiosity. Listen: I am, as I have said, an Englishman. My father and mother are dead. I have no brothers or sisters, and but few relations. Possessing, as I do, a small independence, I am not obliged to work for my living. I have, therefore, come to the conclusion that it is my duty to work for my fellow-men. Of course, I do not mean to deny that every man who works for his living, works also for his fellow-men. What I mean is, that I hold myself bound to apply myself to such works as other men have not leisure to undertake, and the profit of which will go direct to mankind without constituting my livelihood on its passage. To open up the unknown wilderness has ever been my ambition. For that purpose I have come to these wild regions. My enthusiasm on quitting my native land was unbounded. But"
Here Bertram paused and gazed dreamily at the
