As he was leading them through obscure trails toward that place, they came across the hut of a white man, by the name of Radcliff, who had married a Creek woman, and had been adopted into their tribe.

The man had two nearly grown-up boys, stout, burly fellows, half-breeds by birth, and more than half savage in character and training.

The old man's cabin was slightly above the usual style of Indian wigwams.

It was in a region of utter solitude.
There Radcliff had taught his barbarian boys some of the arts of industry.

He had cleared quite a space of ground around his hut, and was raising a supply of corn and potatoes ample for his family wants.
With these vegetable productions, and with the game which the rifle supplied them, they lived in abundance, and free from most of those cares which agitate a higher civilization.
But the old man was quite agitated in receiving and entertaining his unwelcome guests.