Field and Forest; Or, The Fortunes of a Farmer

"Hollo, Phil!" That was the name to which I answered, especially when it was spoken as decidedly as on the present occasion. "I'm coming," I replied, at the top of my lungs. I had been a-fishing in a stream which flowed into the Missouri about a mile above my home. I had been very successful, and had as many fish as I could carry. I was gathering them up, after I had fastened my bateau to the stake, and intended to convey them to the Castle, as our log hut was rather facetiously called by its owner.