unstable landing, from the shock, slowly gave way under his feet, and he hung by his hands. He struggled, but could not regain his footing. With a snap the twig gave way and he sunk down the gap, the earth rushing after him with a noise like that of an earthquake, leaving us uncertain of the fate of the runner.

IV.

DEAF SMITH, THE TEXAN SPY.

ABOUT two years after the Mexican revolution, a difficulty occurred between the new government and a portion of the people, which threatened the most serious consequences-even the bloodshed and horrors of civil war. Briefly, the cause was this: The Constitution had fixed the city of Austin as the permanent capital, where the public archives were kept, with the reservation, however, of a power in the president to order their temporary removal in case of danger from the inroads of a foreign enemy, or the force of a sudden insurrection.

Conceiving that the exceptional emergency had arrived, as the Camanches frequently committed ravages within sight of the capital itself, Houston, who then resided at Washington, on the Brazos, dispatched an order

commanding his subordinate functionaries to send the State records to the latter place, which he declared to be, pro tempore, the seat of government.

It is impossible to describe the stormy excitement which followed the promulgation of this fiat in Austin. The keepers of hotels, boarding-houses, groceries, and farobanks, were thunderstruck, maddened to frenzy; for the measure would be a deathblow to their prosperity in business; and, accordingly, they determined at once to take the necessary steps to avert the danger, by opposing the execution of Houston's mandate. They called a mass-meeting of the citizens and farmers of the circumjacent country, who were all more or less interested in the question; and, after many fiery speeches against the asserted tyranny of the administration, it was unanimously resolved to prevent the removal of the archives by open and armed resistance. To that end they organized four hundred men, one moiety of whom, relieving the other at regular periods of duty, should keep constant guard around the statehouse until the peril passed by. The commander of this force was one Colonel Morton, who had achieved considerable renown in the war for independence, and had still more re

cently displayed desperate bravery in two desperate duels, in both which he had cut his antagonists nearly to pieces with the Bowie-knife. Indeed, from the notoriety of his character, for revenge, as well as courage, it was thought that President Houston would renounce his purpose touching the archives, so soon as he should learn who was the leader of the opposition.

Morton, on his part, whose vanity fully equalled his personal prowess, encouraged and justified the prevailing opinion by his boastful threats. He swore that if the president did succeed in removing the records by the march of an overpowering force, he would then himself hunt him down like a wolf, and shoot him with little ceremony, or stab him in his bed, or waylay him in his walks of recreation. He even wrote to the hero of San Jacinto to that effect. The latter replied in a note of laconic bravery:

"If the people of Austin do not send the archives, I shall certainly come and take them; and if Colonel Morton can kill me, he is welcome to my ear-cap!"

On the reception of this answer the guard was doubled around the state-house. Chosen sentinels were stationed along the road leading to the capitol, the military paraded the

streets from morning till night, and a select caucus held permanent session in the cityhall. In short, everything betokened a coming tempest.

One day, while matters were in this precarious condition, the caucus at the city-hall was surprised by the sudden appearance of a stranger, whose mode of entering was as extraordinary as his looks and dress. He did not knock at the closed door-he did not seek admission there at all; but climbing unseen a small bushy-topped oak, which grew beside the wall, he leaped without sound or warning through a lofty window. He was clothed altogether in buckskin, carried a long and heavy rifle in his hand, wore at the bottom of his left suspender a large Bowie-knife, and had in his leathern belt a couple of pistols half the length of his gun. He was tall, straight as an arrow, active as a panther in his motions, with dark complexion, and luxuriant jetty hair, with a severe, iron-like countenance, that seemed never to have known a smile, and the eyes of intense vivid black, wild and rolling, and piercing as the point of a dagger. His strange advent inspired a thrill of involuntary fear, and many present unconsciously grasped the handles of their side-arms.