"But we have no pen or paper here, Leather-stocking; we must go to the hut for them, or how can I write the order?"
Natty turned his simple features on the cunning magistrate with another of his laughs, as he said—
"And what should I be doing with such scholars tools? I want no pens or paper, not knowing the use of 'ither; and so I keep none. No, no, I'll bring the scalps into the village, Squire, and you can make out the order on one of your law-books, and it will be all the better for it. The deuce take this leather on the neck of the dog, it will strangle the old fool. Can you lend me a knife, Squire?"
Hiram, who seemed particularly anxious to be on good terms with his companion, unhesitatingly complied. Natty cut the thong from the neck of the hound, and, as he returned the knife to its owner, carelessly remarked—
"'Tis a good bit of steel, and has cut such leather as this very same before now, I dare to say."
"Do you mean to charge me with letting your hounds loose!" exclaimed Hiram, with a consciousness that disarmed his caution.
"Loose!" repeated the hunter—"I let them loose myself. I always let them loose before I leave the hut."
The ungovernable amazement with which Mr. Doolittle listened to this falsehood, would have betrayed his agency in the liberation of the dogs, had Natty wanted any further confirmation; and the coolness and management of the old man now disappeared in open indignation.
"Look you here, Mr. Doolittle," he said, striking the breech of his rifle violently on the ground; "what there is in the wigwam of a poor man like me, that one like you can crave, I don't know; but
