The Hidden Children by Robert William Chambers Chapter 17 Page 39

Boyd’s riflemen sat around, cross-legged on the moss, watching the Indians at their labour — all except Murphy and Elerson, who, true to their habits, had each selected a tree to decorate, and were hard at work with their hunting knives on the bark.

On Murphy’s tree I read: “To hell with Walter Butler.”

Elerson, who no doubt had scraped the outlines of this legend with his knife-point before Murphy carved it, had produced another message on his own tree, not a whit more complimentary: “Dam Butler, Brant, Hiakotoo, and McDonald for bloody rogues and murtherin’ rascals all!”

They were ever like this, these two great overgrown boys, already celebrated so terribly in song and legend. And the rank and file of Morgan’s