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"But I'd have lost my life the time that you've heard tell about; I don't think I'd be settin' here, but dead beyond a doubt, If that there Indyan 'Wolverine' jest hadn't helped me out.

"'Twas freshet time, 'way back, as long as sixty-six or eight, An' I was comin' to the Post that year a kind of late, For beaver had been plentiful, and trappin' had been great.

"One day I had been settin' traps along a bit of wood, An' night was catchin' up to me jest faster 'an it should, When all at once I heard a sound that curdled up my blood.

"It was the howl of famished wolves—I didn't stop to think But jest lit out across for home as quick as you could wink, But when I reached the river's edge I brought up at the brink.

"That mornin' I had crossed the stream straight on a sheet of ice An' now, God help me! There it was, churned up an' cracked to dice, The flood went boiling past—I stood like one shut in a vice.