It was indeed a horrible creature-possessing a life the most strangely incomprehensible that can be conceived, and the only parallels to which, in the disguise of humanity, that are to be found among us, exist in the buzzard race of ragpicking gutter-rakers, which the dreadful distortions of European life have weekly vomited upon our shores.

The creature was what is called a boat or river thief-one who lived by petty thieving-a prowler along the desolate river shore, from small settlement to settlement a comparative harmless wretch, appropriating everything he could lay his hands upon in the shape of movable or convertable property; boats, poultry, pigs and groceries, left exposed one night upon the landings. He had evidently received a severe striping lately-most probably for some petty theft as I could see the blue whelks and blood-crusted scars plainly enough through the loop-holes of his tattered shirt.

It was droll indeed to witness the airs of "indignant virtue" forthwith assumed by the delectable and "chosen" innocents who constituted the inmates of the hut. They rose at once upon the poor miserable devil, as the wolf snarls through white tusks at the feeble carrion crow, or at the slow-winged, obscene aura, that comes flapping in slow glide above a promised feast. He begged for food in vain, and before he had time to whine out his pitiful story, they seized and hurled him out into the darkness from whence he had emerged, floating on a drift-log down the fretful river. I felt as if the time had come when I must act, if ever. So standing behind these virtuous gentry, just as they had succeeded in turning out the poor river-thief, by their united efforts, my friend and myself presented ourselves at the door with weapons cocked, and ordered them peremptorily off, telling them that we knew them to be far worse and more dangerous scoundrels than the poor creature they had thrown into night.

"Now!" said I, "we understand you fully for a set of

cut-throats and robbers, and we give you fair warning that the first man of you who touches the boat which is fastened to the river shore down there, I will shoot, and with an aim that never misses-remember that."

The rascals slunk away into the dark along with the repudiated Kelpie of the desolate river, and we were quickly left alone.

To barricade the door with trunks and all the cord-wood we had at command, was the first movement, and then to take my position as sentinel at the port-hole window, which overlooked the place of the boat, was the next. Not a word passed between my friend and myself. He resumed his seat next the door upon his trunk, and there he continued stolidly to sit.

The long rifle of which I had considered myself justified in depriving my treacherous host, lay rested upon the port-hole, and bearing upon the precious boat which was to rescue us from this terrible isolation amidst ruffianism in the morning.

Oh, a long, long time passed-God only knows how long it was! and still I was standing watching the poor little canoe-for I could yet distinguish that frail craft—the posi tion of which I had jealously marked, having directed that it should be at the foot of a tall sepulchral sycamore, that stood out with its white bark as a relief against the dreary gloom.

At last, I saw two shadows creeping along the dim shore, the cold, misty twilight, as the sombre morning crept onwards, making them more vague.

I had shivered and stood uncertain, anxious and distrustful so long, through this weary night, that everything seemed. at last-now that nature was giving out-unreal, and when I saw palpably before my eyes two men enter this boat, and heard immediately the beat of oars or paddles, what could I do other than fire at the objects in the boat? A shriek told all the story, and the boat was instantly whirled down the

stream.

The only immediate consolation that I ever received from

this scene, was that the very fellow whom I considered the most dangerous of the group-and who was the black-browed scoundrel that I have particularized-was the person who received in his own breast the ball which I suppose he had intended should strike the "river chicken-thief," as he had immediately endeavored to throw himself in the bottom of the boat. But the ball had been too swift for him!

We afterwards heard that this man was a horribly notorious boat-robber and murderer, and richly deserved his fate, for when this den was broken up, month or two subsequent, we ascertained that they had sent off for help and guns, and stealing the boat was the preliminary movement to an attempt to fire and storm the cabin and murder us in order to get possession of the boxes of specie, as they considered those unlucky cherry-wood cases of surveying instruments which our Yankee was engaged in peddling about the West, and which had so aroused their cupidity.

We got across next morning, of course, for the sons of my friend having heard the boat stop during the night, were on the alert, and taking my rifle-shot for a signal, were soon across in a boat to our rescue.

We left Yankee blubbering on the bank-for he had now slept off his stupefaction-but as there was a steamboat in sight, we thought ourselves justified in leaving him to his terrors for awhile. He deserved the lesson; and yet, as we moved off, the meek Song Thrush sang as sweet a song from out the dark shadows of that old wood, as if murder had never prowled there!

CHAPTER XI.

EAGLES AND ART.

MINNIE'S LAND, the residence of the late Mr. Audubon, the illustrious ornithologist, was situated near the high-water level of the Hudson, at the foot of a deep range of shelving hills, which form the Manhattan shore, and commence nearly opposite the foot of the noted Palisades.

Here, in the midst of a grove of native forest trees, and at some fifty paces from the water's edge, stood, embowered in characteristic seclusion, like the nest of one of his own favorite, solitude-haunting wild-birds, the simple and tasteful family mansion of the great illustrator of the feathered tribes.

You entered this hospitable home by a wide hall, which, opening upon a spacious portico fronting the river, divided the lower apartments into two ranges of rooms-those on the right hand consisting of atelier, library, and museum of specimens those on the left being, with a beautiful propriety, dedicated to the rights of hospitality-dining-room, parlors, etc.

The main hall of entrance was hung on both sides with pictures; among them all that most attracted my attention in frequent visits, were two large oil paintings, one an origi nal Salvator Rosa-terrible as all that I had ever dreamed of that drear and mighty genius of desolation. A leaden, clouded sky, hurled by the drifting storm against the sharp peaks of pinnacled cliffs, seemed falling, shattered in huge eddied flakes about the head of a poor wayfarer, whose thin

cloak and long hair streaming beyond, made his figure seem the very counterpart of a blasted tree in the foreground, the only green limb upon which seemed to have just been partly torn from the trunk, and streamed, too, on the savage blast. I shall never forget that picture of desolation!

The other was a noble picture-pronounced by Christopher North, the noblest of all executed by Audubon-of a Golden Eagle, the full size of life, which, from a lofty crag of the White Mountains, was in the act of carrying off a lamb upon which it had just pounced, and which was clearly a vagrant from the white flock browsing peacefully beneath, which could be dimly seen through a break in the whirling chaos of vapor, which nearly compassed about the sun-lit rock, upon the grassy edges of which it had been tempted to

feed.

With all this simplicity of elements, there was something indescribably majestic in the picture. In addition to the general effect, there was a degree of microscopic detail in the finish of the two figures of the eagle and the lamb, which has ever since left upon my mind an impression as of an actual scene.

Alas! for white-wooled innocence! it pleads in vain for mercy with the merciless. The full-winged tyrant is an hungered and athirst, and hath no bowels of compassion now that can be moved by piteous bleatings.

It is very nice, poor lamb! to have a snowy fleece, and such large, bright, gentle eyes, with such a meek appeal in them as might soften a heart of veriest adamant-very nice indeed! and one would think that of all creatures, it was least possible that thou couldst come to harm, even in a sinful world like this of ours!

But sad enough, these have all been in vain! A single crime has rendered the Ægis of purity powerless for thee, and forced thee to realize that, indeed,

"Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt !"