After dropping their hooks for a few moments among the perch, at the mouth of the brook, they unjointed their poles, and started toward home, well satisfied with their day's work.

The next day, as Frank and Archie were on their way to the village, on foot—the wind being contrary, they could not sail—they met George and Harry, who had started to pay them a visit.

"Hallo, boys!" exclaimed the former, as soon as they came within speaking distance, "we've got news for you."

"And some that you will not like to hear, Frank," said Harry, with a laugh.

"What is it?" inquired Archie.

"Why, you know, Charley Morgan, some time since, sent to New York for a couple of sail-boats, a sloop and schooner. They arrived yesterday, and he thinks they are something great, and says the Speedwell is nowhere."

"Yes," chimed in Harry, "he said, when those boats came, he would show us 'country chaps' some sailing that would make us open our eyes; but, come to find out, they are perfect tubs. I saw the sloop coming up the creek, and she made poor headway. The Alert can beat her all hollow, with only the foresail hoisted."

During the conversation the boys had been walking toward the village, and, in a few moments, they reached the dock behind the post-office, where the two new boats lay. One of them was a short, "dumpy," sloop-rigged boat, with no deck or center-board, and the other was a beautifully-modeled schooner.

"What do you think of them?" inquired Harry, after they had regarded them several moments.

"Well," answered Archie, "I have seen a good many boats like these in New York, but I don't think they will do much here. That schooner may show some fine sailing qualities, but that sloop will prove to be the slowest boat about the village; she is altogether too short. Take it where the waves are long and regular, and she will do well enough but here in the river, where the waves are all chopped up, she can't accomplish much."

"That's your private opinion, expressed here in this public manner, is it?" said a sneering voice. "You have made a fine show of your ignorance."

The boys turned, and saw Charles Morgan and several of the Rangers standing close by.

"If I didn't know more about yachts than that," continued Charles, "I'd go home and soak my head."

This remark was greeted by the Rangers with a loud laugh; and Archie, who, like Frank, was a very peaceable fellow, said,

"Every one to his own way of thinking, you know."

"Certainly," answered Charles; "but, if I was as much of a blockhead as you are, I'd be careful to keep my thoughts to myself."

Archie did not answer, for he knew it would only add fuel to the fire; for Charles's actions indicated that he was bent on getting up a quarrel. He had determined to make another attempt to "settle accounts" between himself and Frank.

"I'll bet you fifty dollars," said Charles, "that there are not half a dozen boats about the village that can beat that sloop."

"I'm not in the habit of betting," answered Archie; "but, if you will find a boat about the village that can't beat her, I'll eat your sloop."

"You are green, indeed," said Charles. "Now, what do you suppose that sloop cost me?"

"Well," answered Archie, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, "I think ten dollars would foot the bill."

Archie said this in so comical a manner that Frank and the others could not refrain from laughing outright.

Charles was angry in an instant, and, quick as thought, he sprang forward and seized Archie. But he soon discovered that he had undertaken more than he could accomplish; for his antagonist, though considerably smaller than himself, was possessed of enormous strength, and was as active as a cat, and he glided like an eel from Charles's grasp, and, seizing him by both wrists, held him fast. After a few desperate, but ineffectual, attempts to free himself, Charles shouted to the Rangers, who had been bustling about in a state of considerable excitement, but very prudently keeping in the background,

"Help, help, you cowards!"

But nothing could induce them to attempt the rescue.

At this moment a boat, which had entered the creek unnoticed by the boys, drew up to the dock, and a strong, cheery voice, called out,

"Hang on to him, little fellow—hang on to him. We've got a few little matters to settle up."

And Leo Powell came running toward them, with half a dozen of his ragged followers close at his heels.

"Oh, let me go," cried Charles, turning very pale, and writhing and twisting in the strong grasp that held him; "I'll be civil to you after this, only don't let them get hold of me; they will half kill me."

Archie accordingly released his captive, but the Hillers were so close to him that Charles dare not run, and he remained close to Frank for protection, while the rest of the Rangers beat a precipitate retreat.

"Here, Pete, hold my coat," said Lee, tossing his tattered garment to one of his companions; "I'll show this Cap'n Regulator that some folks are as good as others."

And he advanced toward Charles, and commenced rolling up his sleeves.

"No, Lee," said Frank, placing himself before the frightened Ranger, "you mustn't touch him."

"Mustn't touch him!" repeated Lee, in surprise. "Why, wasn't he jest tryin' to wallop your friend here?"

"Oh, he's able to defend himself," answered Frank.

"Then he's all right. But I haven't paid for trying to Regulate me, that night."

"He didn't do it, did he?" inquired Frank.

"No, 'cause you fellows wouldn't let him."

"Then, we don't want you to whip him now."

"Wal, if you say so, I won't; but he oughter be larnt better manners—hadn't he, Pete?"

"'Course," was Pete's laconic answer.

"Now, Charley," said Archie, "you may take yourself off as soon as you wish; they will not hurt you."

"Not this time," said Lee, shaking his hard fist in Charles's face; "but we may come acrost you some time when you hasn't nobody to stand up for you; then you had better look out—hadn't he, Pete?"

"Hadn't he, though!" was the answer.

Charles did not need any urging, and he was quickly out of sight.

"I'd like to see you jest a minit, Frank," said Lee, as the former was about to move away.

Frank drew off on one side, and the Hiller continued,

"I promised I'd allers be a friend to you fellers that stood up for me that night, and I want to let you see that I haven't forgot my promise. I know that I can't do much for you, but I jest want to show you that I allers remember favors."

Here he turned, and made a motion to one of his companions, who darted off to the boat, and soon returned, bringing a young otter in his arms.

"I allers heerd," continued Lee, as his companion came up, "that you have a reg'lar hankerin' arter ketchin' and tamin' wild varmints. Now, we want you to take this as a present from us. I know it ain't much, but, arter all, a young otter is a thing a feller can't ketch every day. Will you take it?"

"Certainly," answered Frank, as he took the little animal in his arms. "I have long wished for an otter, and I thank—"

"Hold on there," interrupted Lee. "Keep your thanks for them as needs them, or likes to hear 'em. We Hillers have got feelings as well as any body. It's our way of bringin' up that makes us so bad. Now, good-by; and, if you ever want any thing, jest call on Lee Powell."

And he and his companions walked rapidly toward their boat, and soon disappeared.



CHAPTER XII.

A Deer-Hunt on the Water.

The next morning, after breakfast, Frank and his cousin, accompanied by the dogs, got into the skiff, and pulled up the creek, on a "prospecting expedition." They had started for the swamp, which lay about two miles and a half from the cottage, to see what the prospects were for a good muskrat-hunt in the spring. This swamp covered, perhaps, five hundred acres, and near its center was a small lake, which emptied into Glen's Creek.

A few moments' pulling brought them to this lake, and Frank, who was seated at the helm, turned the boat's head toward a high point that projected for some distance out into the lake, and behind which a little bay set back into the land. This point was the only high land about the swamp, and stretched away back into the woods for several miles. It was a favorite place for sunfish and perch; and the boys landed, and were rigging their poles, intending to catch some for their dinner, when they heard a strange noise, that seemed to come from the bay behind the point. They knew in a moment that it was made by a duck, but still it was a sound they had never heard before, and, hunter-like, they determined to discover where it came from. So, reaching for their guns, they crawled carefully through the bushes, until they came within sight of the bay. A brood of young ducks, under the direction of two old ones, were sporting about among the broad leaves of the water-lilies. They had never seen any like them before; but Frank knew in a moment, from descriptions he had often read, that they were eider-ducks, and he determined, if possible, to capture some of the young ones, which, he noticed, were but half-fledged, and too small to fly. But the question was how to proceed. If the ducklings could not fly, they could swim like a streak; and he knew that, the moment they were alarmed, they would either make for the opposite side of the bay or for the lake, and, if they succeeded in reaching the open water, he might whistle for his ducks.

His only chance was to corner them in the bay; they would then be obliged to hide among the lilies, and perhaps they might succeed in capturing some of them.

Hurriedly whispering to his cousin, they crept back to the skiff, pulled around the point, and entered the bay. The moment they came in sight, the old ones uttered their cries of warning, took to wing, and flew out over the lake, and, as they had expected, the young ones darted in among the lilies, and were out of sight in an instant. But the boys had kept their eyes open, and knew about where to look for them; and, after half an hour's chase, they succeeded in securing three of them with the dip-net.

After tying them up in their caps, Frank pulled leisurely along out of the bay, and was just entering the lake, when Archie, who was steering, suddenly turned the boat toward the shore, and said, in a scarcely audible whisper,

"A deer—a deer! sure as I live!"

Frank looked in the direction his cousin indicated, and saw a large buck standing in the edge of the water, not twenty rods from them. Luckily he had not heard their approach, and Frank drew the boat closer under the point, to watch his motions.

They were a good deal excited, and Archie's hand trembled like a leaf, as he reached for his gun.

Another lucky circumstance was, that the dogs had not discovered him. Brave and Hunter could have been kept quiet, but Lightfoot was not sufficiently trained to be trusted.

The boys determined to make an effort to capture him; he would make a splendid addition to their museum. Besides, they had never killed a deer, and now the opportunity was fairly before them. But the question was how to proceed. The buck was out of range of their shot-guns, and they knew it would be worse than useless to fire at him; so they concluded to lie still in the boat, and await the movements of the game.

The buck was standing in the water, up to his knees, deliberately cropping the leaves of the lilies, and now and then gazing toward the opposite shore, as if he were meditating upon something. At length he appeared to have decided upon his course, for he waded deeper into the water, and swam boldly out into the lake.

This was exactly what the boys had wished for; and, when the buck had made about ten rods from the shore, Archie took his seat at the oars, and pulled the boat silently out from behind the point. The moment they entered the lake, Lightfoot discovered the game, and uttered a loud bark. The buck heard it, and his first impulse was to turn and regain the shore he had just left. But Archie gave way on the oars manfully, and succeeded in intercepting him; and the buck, finding himself fairly cut off, uttered a loud snort, and, seeming to understand that his only chance for escape was straight ahead, he settled himself down in the water, and struck out again for the opposite shore.

The dogs now all broke out into a continuous barking, and Archie exclaimed, in an excited voice,

"Shoot him! shoot him!"

"He is too far off," answered Frank. "You must remember that our guns are loaded with small shot. Give way lively!"

The boys very soon discovered that they had no easy task before them. The light skiff, propelled by Archie's powerful strokes, danced rapidly over the little waves; but the buck was a fast swimmer and made headway through the water astonishingly.

"Don't we gain on him any?" inquired Archie, panting hard from his exertions.

"Yes, a very little," answered Frank. "But he swims like a streak."

At length they reached the middle of the lake, and Frank, to his delight, discovered that they were gaining rapidly. Archie redoubled his efforts, and a few more strokes brought them close alongside of the buck, which snorted aloud in his terror, and leaped half-way out of the water, then settled down nobly to his work.

Had Frank been an experienced deer-hunter, he would have been very careful not to approach the game in that manner; for a deer, when he finds himself unable to escape, will fight most desperately, and his sharp antlers and hoofs, which will cut like a knife, are weapons not to be despised. But Frank, in his excitement, did not step to think of this, and, letting go the tiller, he seized his gun, and fired both barrels in quick succession. But the shot was not fatal; and the buck, maddened with pain, leaped almost entirely out of the water.

Frank now saw their danger, and, seizing the oars, attempted to turn the boat out of the reach of the wounded animal; but it was too late, for the buck, in his struggles, placed his fore-feet in the bow of the skiff, and overturned it in an instant, and boys, dogs, ducks, and all, were emptied into the cold waters of the lake. When they rose to the surface, they found the skiff right side up, and dancing over the waves they had made, and the ducks and oars were floating in the water around them.

Their first thought was to discover what had become of the buck; he and Brave were engaged in a most desperate fight, in which the dog was evidently getting the better of it. The hounds, probably not relishing their ducking, were making for the nearest shore, as if their lives depended upon the issue.

Frank swam up to the skiff, and took hold of it, to keep himself afloat; but Archie picked up an oar, and struck out toward the buck, exclaiming,

"I guess I'd better take a hand in this fight."

"No, no," said Frank, quickly, "you had better keep away from him; he has too much strength left. He would beat you down under the water in less than a minute. Brave can manage him alone."

The next moment Frank happened to think of his gun. Where was it? He drew himself up and looked into the canoe. It was not there; it was at the bottom of the lake.

"Archie," he exclaimed, "we've lost our guns."

"Just my luck," answered his cousin, bitterly. "Now, I'll have revenge for that."

And, swimming around behind the buck, out of reach of his dangerous hoofs, he raised himself in the water, and struck him a powerful blow, that shivered the blade of the oar into fragments. It was a fatal blow; and the buck ceased his struggles, and lay motionless on the water. It was a lucky circumstance for Brave that Archie had taken part in the fight, for the poor dog had experienced some pretty rough handling. He had received several wounds from the sharp hoofs of the buck, and there was a severe cut in his neck, from which the blood was flowing profusely; but the way he continued to shake the buck after Archie had dealt the fatal blow showed that there was plenty of fight left in him. Frank carefully lifted him into the boat, and, by their united efforts, after a good deal of hard work, the buck was thrown in after him. The boys then climbed in themselves, and Frank said,

"Well, we have captured our first deer, haven't we?"

"I wish we had never seen him," answered Archie. "We've lost our guns by the operation."

"I am afraid so; but we will, at least, make an attempt to recover them."

"How will we go to work?"

"We will dive for them."

Archie shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply.

Frank's first care was to bandage Brave's neck with his handkerchief. He then divested himself of his clothes, and, after wringing the water out of them, he spread them out in the bow of the boat to dry.

"I don't much like the idea of going down in there," said Archie, looking dubiously at the dark, muddy water; "there may be snakes in it, or it may be full of logs, or the bottom may be covered with weeds that will catch hold of a fellow's leg and keep him down."

"I can't help it," said Frank; "we must have the guns; I'd rather risk any thing than lose them. The only thing I am afraid of is that the water is too deep. I'll be a little careful at first"

So saying, he lowered himself over the side of the boat, and, drawing in a long breath, sank slowly out of sight.

Meanwhile Archie was pulling off his clothes, and, when his cousin appeared, he exclaimed,

"How do things look down there? Rather muddy, isn't it?"

"Yes," answered Frank, as he wiped the water from his face, "but the bottom is all clear, and the water is only about fifteen feet deep."

"Did you see any thing of the guns?"

"No, I couldn't stay down long enough to make observations. I'm going to dive this time," he continued, as he commenced climbing back into the boat.

"Well, here goes!" said Archie.

And, clasping his hands above his head, he dived out of sight, and Frank followed close after.

When the latter again appeared at the surface, he found Archie holding on to the boat, with one of the guns elevated above his head, to allow the water to run out of the barrels.

The boys climbed up into the boat, and dived again, but neither of them met with any success. The next time Archie was again the fortunate one, for, when Frank rose to the surface, he was climbing up into the boat, with the other gun in his hand.

"I don't call this a very unlucky hunt, after all," said Frank.

"Neither do I," said Archie. "I say, Frank," he continued, "I wish we could reproduce in our museum the scene we have just passed through."

"So do I. If we could represent the buck in the act of upsetting us, it would be our 'masterpiece,' wouldn't it? But I am afraid that is further than our ingenuity extends."

The boys drew on their clothes, which were but partially dry, and, after pulling ashore to get the hounds, which had kept up a loud barking all the time, they turned the boat's head toward home.

After changing their clothes and eating a hearty dinner—during which they related their adventure to Mrs. Nelson and Julia—they carefully removed the buck's skin, and hung it up in the shop by a fire to dry.

Their guns were found to be none the worse for their ducking; the loads, of course, were wet, and had to be drawn, but a good coat of oil, and a thorough rubbing inside and out, made them look as good as new.

During the afternoon, as the boys sat on the piazza in front of the house, talking over the events of the morning, their attention was attracted by a combat that was going on between one of Frank's pet kingbirds and a red-headed woodpecker. The latter was flying zigzag through the air, and the kingbird was pecking him most unmercifully. At length the woodpecker took refuge in a tree that stood on the bank of the creek, and then seemed perfectly at his ease. He always kept on the opposite side of the tree, and the kingbird, active as he was, could not reach him. His loud, angry twittering soon brought his mate to his assistance, and then the woodpecker found himself between two fires. After trying in vain to elude them, he suddenly popped into a hole in the tree, and stuck out his long bill, as if defying them to enter. The kingbirds were completely outwitted; and, after making two or three angry darts at the hole in which their cunning enemy had taken refuge, they settled down on the branches close by to wait until he should show himself. They had no intention of giving up the contest. The woodpecker seemed to take matters very coolly, and improved his time by pounding away industriously on the inside of the tree. Occasionally he would thrust his head out of the hole, but, seeing his enemies still on the watch, he would dodge back, and go to work again.

After waiting fully a quarter of an hour for him to come out, and seeing that the kingbirds had no idea of "raising the siege," Archie concluded (to age his own expression) that he "might as well lend a little assistance." So he ran round to the shop, and, having procured an ax, he went up to the tree, and dealt it a heavy blow. The next moment the woodpecker flew out, and the kingbirds were after him in an instant They followed him until he reached the woods, and then returned to the cottage.



CHAPTER XIII.

A 'Coon-Hunt.

We might relate many more interesting events that transpired before the hunting season set in; we might tell of the "tall times" the boys had whipping the trout-streams, of the trials of speed that came off on the river, when it turned out, as Archie had predicted, that Charles Morgan's sloop "couldn't sail worth a row of pins;" and we might tell of many more desperate "scrapes" that came off between the bully and his sworn enemies the Hillers; but we fear, reader, you are already weary of the Young Naturalist's home-life, and long to see him engaging in his favorite recreations—roaming through the woods, with his gun on his shoulder, or dealing death among the ducks on the river.

Well, autumn came at length; and, early one chilly, moonlight evening, Frank and his cousin, accompanied by George and Harry, might have been seen picking their way across the meadow at the back of Mrs. Nelson's lot, and directing their course toward a large cornfield, that lay almost in the edge of a piece of thick woods, about a quarter of a mile distant.

They had started on a 'coon-hunt. Frank and Harry, who were two of the best shots in the village, were armed with their double-barreled shot-guns, and the others carried axes and lanterns.

We have said that it was a moonlight night, but, so far as a view of the chase was concerned, the light of the moon would benefit them but little; and the boys carried the lanterns, not to be able to follow the 'coon when started, but to discover him when "treed," and to assist them in picking their way through the woods.

During a raccoon-hunt, but little is seen either of the dogs or the game. The woods, let the moon shine ever so bright, are pitch-dark; and the dogs rely on their scent and the hunter trusts to his ears.

The 'coon seldom strays far from his tree, and, of course, when started, draws a "bee-line" for home, and the game is for the dogs—which should be very swift, hardy animals, having the courage to tackle him if he should turn at bay—to overtake him, and compel him to take to some small tree, where he can be easily shaken off or shot. But if he succeeds in reaching home, which he always makes in a large tree, he is safe, unless the hunter is willing to go to work and fell the tree.

The boys were accompanied by their dogs, which followed close at their heels. Lightfoot was about to take his first lesson in hunting, but Brave and Sport evidently knew perfectly well what the game was to be, and it was difficult to restrain them.

A few moments' walk brought them to the corn field. A rail-fence ran between the field and the woods; and two of the boys, after lighting their lanterns, climbed over the fence, and the others waved their hands to the dogs, and ordered them to "hunt 'em up." Brave and Sport were off in an instant, and Lightfoot was close at their heels, mechanically following their motions, and evidently wondering at their strange movements.

The boys moved quietly along the fence, and, in a few moments, a quick, sharp yelp from Brave announced that he had started the first 'coon. The boys cheered on the dogs, and presently a dark object appeared, coming at full speed through the corn, and passed, at a single bound, over the fence. The dogs, barking fierce and loud at every jump, were close at his heels, and both they and the game speedily disappeared in the darkness. The boys followed after, picking their way through the bushes with all possible speed.

The chase was a short one, for the dogs soon broke out in a regular, continuous barking, which announced that the 'coon was treed. The hunters, guided by the noise, soon came in sight of them, standing at the foot of a small sapling. Brave and Sport took matters very easily, and seemed satisfied to await the arrival of the boys, but Lightfoot had caught sight of the 'coon as he was ascending the tree, and was bounding into the air, and making every exertion to reach him.

Frank and Harry stood ready with their guns to shoot him, and the others held their lanterns aloft, and peered up into the top of the tree, to discover his hiding-place; but nothing could be seen of him. The sapling had grown up rather high, and all objects outside of the circle of light made by their lanterns seemed to be concealed by Egyptian darkness.

"He's up there, I know," said Archie.

And, laying down his ax and lantern, he caught hold of the sapling, and shook it with all his strength. But it was a little too large for him to manage, and, although it swayed considerably, the 'coon could easily retain his hold.

"Well," said Archie, "if he will not come down to us, we'll have to go up to him, I suppose."

And he commenced ascending the tree. Archie was a good hand at climbing, and had shaken more than one 'coon from his roost, and he carefully felt his way up, until he had almost reached the top of the sapling, when, not wishing to trust his weight on the small limbs, he stopped, and again shook the tree, and this time with better success. There was an angry snarling among the branches above his head, and the 'coon, after trying in vain to retain his hold, came tumbling to the ground.

Quick as thought the dogs were upon him, and, although he made a most desperate resistance, he was speedily overpowered and killed.

The boys picked up their prize, and went back to the cornfield. The dogs were again sent in, and another 'coon was started, which, like the first, "drew a bee-line" for the woods, with the dogs close behind, and the boys, worked up to the highest pitch of excitement, followed after as fast as their legs could carry them.

The 'coon had managed to get a good start of his pursuers, and he led them a long chase through a low, swampy part of the woods, to the top of a ridge, where the heavy timber grew; and when, at length, the boys came up with the dogs, they found them standing at the foot of a large maple fully ten feet in circumference.

"There!" exclaimed George, "the rascal has succeeded in reaching home. Good-by, 'coon!"

"Yes," said Frank, leaning on the muzzle of his gun, and wiping the perspiration from his forehead, "we're minus that 'coon, easily enough, unless we wait until morning, and cut the tree down."

"Look here, boys," suddenly exclaimed George, who had been holding his lantern above his head, and examining the sides of the tree; "did you ever see a tree look like this before?"

As they moved around to the side where George stood, Archie called out,

"There must be a big nest of 'coons in here; the tree is completely skinned."

"Yes," said Frank, "we've accidentally stumbled upon a regular 'coon-tree. There must be a big family of them living here. The tree looks as if some one had taken an ax and cleaned off the bark. But," he added, "finding where the 'coons have been and catching them are two very different things."

"What do you mean?" inquired Archie, "You don't pretend to say that the 'coons are not in the tree?"

"Certainly I do. I wouldn't be afraid to stake Brave against any little cur in the village that the 'coon the dogs have just followed here is the only one in the tree."

"What makes you think so?"

"Why, now is their feeding-time, and all the 'coons in this part of the woods are in the cornfield. It wouldn't pay to cut down this big tree for one 'coon; so let's go home and go to bed, and early to-morrow morning we will come back here and bag our game."

The boys agreed to this, and they whistled to their dogs, and started through the woods toward home.

The next morning, at the first peep of day, they again set out, and in half an hour arrived at the 'coon-tree.

The boys knew that they had something to accomplish before they could secure their game, but they were not the ones to shun hard work. They had frequently cut down trees for a single 'coon, and they felt confident that there were at least three of the animals in the tree, and they were willing to work for them.

Archie and George were armed, as on the preceding night, with axes, and, after pulling off their coats, they placed themselves on opposite sides of the tree, and set manfully to work. Harry and Frank stood by, ready to take their places when they grew tired, and the dogs seated themselves on the ground close by, with their tongues hanging out of the sides of their mouths, and now and then giving vent to an impatient whine.

The boys worked for an hour and a half—taking their turns at chopping—almost without speaking. At length the top of the tree began to waver, and a loud crack announced that it was about to fall. Frank and Archie were chopping, and the blows of their axes resounded with redoubled force, and the other boys caught up the guns, and ran off in the direction in which the tree was about to fall, followed by Sport and Lightfoot, and Brave stationed himself close behind his master, and barked and whined furiously.

A few sturdy blows finished the business, and the tree began to sink—slowly at first, then with a rushing sound, and struck the earth with a tremendous crash. In an instant boys and dogs were among the branches. The 'coons—some of which were not injured in the least by the fall—scattered in every direction; and one of them—a fine, large fellow—bounded off through the bushes.

Frank discovered him just in time, and, fearing that he would lose sight of him, he hurled his ax at him with all his strength; but it went wide of the mark, and Frank started in hot pursuit. He was very swift of foot, and there seemed to be no limit to his endurance, but, in running through the bushes, the 'coon had decidedly the advantage. Frank was not slow to discover this, and he began to think about sending his ax after him again, when he heard a crashing in the bushes behind him, and the grayhound passed him like the wind, and two or three of his tremendous bounds brought him up with the 'coon.

Frank knew very well that Lightfoot had something of a job before him, for it requires a very tough, active dog to "handle" a full-grown coon when he is cornered. But Frank thought it was a capital time to judge of the grayhound's "grit;" so he cheered him on, and hurried forward to witness the fight.

As Lightfoot came up, he made a grab at the 'coon, which, quick as a flash, eluded him, and, when the hound turned upon him, the 'coon gave him one severe bite, when Lightfoot uttered a dismal howl, and, holding his nose close to the ground, beat a hasty retreat; and the Young Naturalist could not induce him to return.

During the fight, short as it was, Frank had gained considerably, and, as the 'coon turned to make off, he again threw his ax at him, which, true to its aim, struck the 'coon on the head, and stretched him lifeless on the ground.

Meanwhile Archie was endeavoring to secure his 'coon, under rather more difficult circumstances.

As soon as the tree had begun to fall, Archie dropped his ax, seized a short club that lay near him on the ground, and, discovering a 'coon making for the bushes, he started after him at full speed.

The animal appeared to run heavily, as if he had been partially stunned by the falling of the tree; and Archie had followed him but a short distance, when he had the satisfaction of discovering that he was gaining at every step. The 'coon seemed to understand that his chance of escape was rather small; and, after various windings and twistings, commenced ascending a small tree. Archie ran forward with all possible speed, with the hope of reaching the tree before he could climb out of the way. The 'coon moved but slowly, and Archie felt sure of his prize; and, as soon as he came within the proper distance, he struck a powerful blow at the animal, but he was just out of reach, and the club was shivered to pieces against the tree.

Archie, however, did not hesitate a moment, but, placing his hands on the tree, commenced climbing after him. The 'coon ascended to the topmost branch, and looked down on his enemy, growling and snapping his teeth, as if to warn him that he intended to make a desperate resistance; but Archie was not in the least intimidated, and, reaching the branch on which the 'coon was seated, he shook it violently, and the animal tumbled to the ground, and, as soon as he could regain his feet, started off again.

Archie descended as quickly as possible, and started in pursuit, hoping to overtake his game before he could again take to a tree. There was an abundance of large trees growing in the woods, and, if the 'coon should take it into his head to ascend one of them, Archie might whistle for his game.

The young hunter well understood this, and he "put in his best licks," as he afterward remarked, and, in a few moments, had almost overtaken him, and began to look around for something to strike him with, when the 'coon, as if guessing his intention, suddenly turned and ran up a large tree that stood close by, and, crawling out on a limb, about fifty feet from the ground, he settled himself down, as if he had concluded to take matters more easily.

This was discouraging; and Archie seated himself on a log under the tree, and for a moment thought seriously of giving up the chase. But the 'coon was a fine, fat fellow, and his skin would make a valuable addition to the museum, and, besides, he had followed him so far already, that he was reluctant to go back to his companions without him, and, on second thought, he concluded that he would not go back unless he could carry the 'coon with him.

He first thought of ascending the tree, but, after taking a hasty survey of it, he abandoned the idea. The tree was partially decayed; in fact, there was but one sound limb in it that Archie could discover, and that was about four feet above the one on which the 'coon was seated, and stretched out directly over it.

Archie did not like the idea of trusting himself among the unsound limbs, and, besides, the cunning animal had crawled out to the extreme end of one of the decayed branches, which bent beneath his weight, and the young hunter, of course, could not follow him.

There was only one way that Archie could discover to bring him down; and he straightway opened upon the devoted 'coon a tremendous shower of clubs and sticks. He was a very accurate thrower, and, for some time, had hopes of being able to bring down the 'coon; but, although the missiles frequently hit him, Archie could not throw them with sufficient force; and he again turned his attention to the tree. Throwing his arms around it, he commenced working his way up. The bark was very smooth and slippery, and the lowest limb was the one on which the 'coon had taken refuge; but he kept steadily at work, and his progress, though slow, was sure, and he reached the limb; and, bearing as little of his weight as possible upon it, he drew himself up to the sound limb above.

After testing it thoroughly, to make sure that it would sustain his weight, he commenced walking out on the branch on which the 'coon was seated, keeping a firm hold of the limb above his head. He had made scarcely a dozen steps, when there was a loud crack, and the branch on which he was standing broke into fragments, and fell to the ground with a crash, carrying the 'coon with it, and leaving Archie hanging in the air, fifty feet from the ground.

Not in the least terrified at his dangerous situation, the young hunter coolly swung himself up on the limb, and, crawling carefully back to the tree, slid rapidly down the trunk, and, as if nothing had happened, ran to the place where the 'coon had fallen, hoping that at last he was secured.

But he was again disappointed. Nothing was to be seen of the animal, and only a few drops of blood on the leaves indicated the direction in which he had gone. This quickly caught Archie's eye, and he began to follow up the trail, which led toward a creek that flowed close by. But when he arrived upon its bank he was again at fault—the trail was lost; and, while he was running up and down the bank, searching for it, he happened to cast his eye toward the opposite side of the creek, and there was his 'coon, slowly ascending a tall stump that stood at the water's edge.

Archie could not refrain from giving a shout of joy, for he was confident that the chase would soon be over; and he hurried, impatiently, up and down the bank to find some place to cross, and finally discovered a small tree lying in the water, whose top reached almost to the opposite bank. The 'coon had undoubtedly crossed on this bridge; and Archie sprang upon it. It shook considerably, but he kept on, and had almost reached the opposite side, when the tree broke, and he disappeared in the cold water. He rose immediately, and, shaking the water from his face, struck out for the shore, puffing and blowing like a porpoise. A few lusty strokes brought him to the bank, and, as he picked up a handful of stones, he said to himself,

"I guess I'm all right now. If I could only have found some stones when I treed that 'coon in the woods, he would not have been up there now, and I should not have got this wet hide. But we'll soon settle accounts now."

As we have said, the 'coon had taken refuge in a high stump. The branches had all fallen off, with the exception of one short one, about two feet from the top; and the 'coon, after trying in vain to squeeze 'himself into a small hole, about half-way up the stump, settled down on this limb, and appeared to be awaiting his fate.

Archie took a favorable position, and, selecting a stone, hurled it with all his force at the 'coon. It whizzed harmlessly by, close to his head; but the next brought him to the ground, dead.

"There!" exclaimed the young hunter, as he shouldered his prize, and walked up the creek to find a crossing-place, "I've worked pretty hard for 'coons, first and last, but this beats all the hunts I ever engaged in."

He at length reached a place where the water was about knee-deep, waded across the creek, and started through the woods to find his companions. When he arrived at the place where they had felled the tree, he saw Harry sitting on a log, with Frank's gun in his hand, but nothing was to be seen of the other boys.

As soon as the latter discovered Archie, he burst into a loud laugh.

"No doubt you think it a good joke," said Archie, as he came up, "but I don't. It isn't a funny thing to tramp through the woods, on a cold day like this, with your clothes wringing wet. But I've got the 'coon."

"You must have had a tough time catching him," said Harry. "But let us go down to the camp."

As they walked along, Archie related his adventures; and, when he told about being "dumped in the creek," Harry laughed louder than ever.

A few moments' walk brought them to what Harry had called the "camp." It was in a little grove of evergreens, on the banks of a clear, dancing trout-brook. A place about forty feet square had been cleared of the trees and bushes and in it stood a small, neatly-built, log-cabin, which Frank and some of his companions had erected the winter previous.

Near the middle of the cabin a hole about four feet square, had been dug, and in this a fire was burning brightly; and a hole in the roof, directly over it, did duty both as chimney and window.

On the floor, near the fire—or, rather, there was no floor, the ground serving for that purpose—stood some tin dishes, which one of the boys had just brought to light from a corner of the cabin, four plates, as many knives and forks, two large platters, a coffee-pot, four quart-cups, and a pan containing some trout, which George had caught in the brook, all cleaned and ready for the spit, and there was also a large plate of bread and butter.

Frank, who always acted as cook on these expeditions, and knew how to get up a dinner that would tempt an epicure, was kneeling before the fire, engaged in skinning some squirrels which Brave had treed for him.

George was in front of the cabin, chopping wood; and close by the door lay five 'coons—the fruits of the morning's hunt; and near them lay the dogs, fast asleep.

Such was the scene presented when Harry and Archie burst in upon the camp. The latter was greeted with a loud laugh.

"Well, boys," said he, as he threw his 'coon down with the others, "you may laugh, but I wish some of you were obliged to go through what I did. I was bound to have the 'coon, if I had to follow him clear to Moosehead Lake."

"That's the way to talk," said Frank. "Now, throw yourself down by the fire, and I'll soon be ready to give you something to eat. A cup or two of hot coffee will set you all right again."

Archie's ducking and his long walk in his wet clothes had chilled him completely through, and he was very willing to comply with his cousin's suggestion, and he drew up as close as possible to the fire.

When Frank had finished skinning the squirrels, he stuck them up before the fire, on spits, to roast. The trout he served in the same manner; and, raking out a few live coals from the fire, he placed the coffee-pot upon them, when the work of getting breakfast began in earnest.

In the course of half an hour the impatience of the hungry hunters (whose appetites had been sharpened by the savory smell of the cooking viands) was relieved by Frank's welcome invitation—

"Now, boys, you may help yourselves."

And they did help themselves most bountifully.

Archie kept his place by the fire, and a plate filled with bread and butter, and roasted squirrel and trout, and a cup of coffee, were passed over to him; and, supporting himself on one elbow, he did them ample justice.

The dogs were well supplied with what remained of the breakfast; and, after washing the dishes in the clear water of the brook, and placing them carefully away for future use, the boys seated themselves around the fire, and Harry exclaimed, as he settled himself back into a comfortable position,

"Give us a story, Frank."

"Well," answered Frank, after thinking a few moments, "I remember one that, I think, will interest you. You will probably remember, Archie, that, during the last visit we made at Uncle Joe's, we met his brother Dick, who has passed forty years of his life among the Rocky Mountains. You will remember, also, that he and I went mink-trapping, and camped out all night, and during the evening he related to me some of his adventures, and wound up with the following story of his 'chum,' Bill Lawson. I will try to give it, as nearly as possible, in his own words.



CHAPTER XIV.

Bill Lawson's Revenge.

"This Bill Larson," said Dick, knocking the ashes from his pipe, "was some in his day. I have told you about his trappin' qualities—that there was only one man in the county that could lay over him any, an' that was ole Bob Kelly. But Bill had some strange ways about him, sometimes, that I could not understand, an' the way he acted a'most made me think he was crazy. Sometimes you couldn't find a more jolly feller than he was; an' then, again, he would settle down into one of his gloomy spells, an' I couldn't get a word out of him. He would sit by the camp-fire, an' first fall to musing; then he would cover his face with his hands, an' I could see the big, scalding tears trickle through his fingers, an' his big frame would quiver and shake like a tree in a gale of wind; then he would pull out his long, heavy huntin'-knife, an' I could see that he had several notches cut in the handle. He would count these over an' over again; an' I could see a dark scowl settle on his face, that would have made me tremble if I had not known that I was his only sworn friend, an' he would mutter,

"'Only seven! only seven! There ought to be eight. There is one left. He must not escape me. No, no; he must die!'

"An' then he would sheath his knife, an' roll himself up in his blanket, an' cry himself to sleep like a child.

"I had been with ole Bill a'most ten years—ever since I was a boy—but he had never told me the cause of his trouble. I didn't dare to ask him, for the ole man had curious ways sometimes, an' I knowed he wouldn't think it kind of me to go pryin' into his affairs, an' I knowed, too, that some day he would tell me all about it.

"One night—we had been followin' up a bar all day—we camped on the side of a high mountain. It was very cold. The wind howled through the branches of the trees above our heads, makin' us pull our blankets closer about us an' draw as nigh to the fire as possible.

"Ole Bill sat, as usual, leanin' his head on his hands, an' lookin' steadily into the fire. Neither of us had spoken for more than an hour. At len'th the ole man raised his head, an' broke the silence by sayin',

"'Dick, you have allers been a good friend to me, an' have stuck by me like a brother, through thick an' thin, an', I s'pose, you think it is mighty unkind in me to keep any thing from you; an' so it is. An' now I'll tell you all.'

"He paused a moment, an', wipin' the perspiration from his forehead with his coat-sleeve, continued, a'most in a whisper,

"'Dick, I was not allers as you see me now—all alone in the world. Once I was the happiest boy west of the mountains. My father was a trader, livin' on the Colorado River, I had a kind mother, two as handsome sisters as the sun ever shone on, an' my brother was one of the best trappers, for a boy, I ever see. He was a good deal younger nor I was, but he was the sharer of all my boyish joys an' sorrows. We had hunted together, an' slept under the same blanket ever since we were big enough to walk. Oh! I was happy then! This earth seemed to me a paradise. Now look at me—alone in the world, not one livin' bein' to claim me as a relation; an' all this was brought upon me in a single day.'

"Here the ole man stopped, an' buried his face in his hands; but, suddenly arousin' himself, he continued,

"'One day, when the ice were a'most out of the river, father an' me concluded it was about time to start on our usual tradin' expedition; so we went to work an' got all our goods—which consisted of beads, hatchets, lookin'-glasses, blankets, an' such like—into the big canoe, an' were goin' to start 'arly in the mornin' to pay a visit to the Osage Injuns, an' trade our things for their furs. That night, while we were eatin' our supper, a party of horsemen came gallopin' an' yellin' down the bank of the river, an', ridin' up to the door of the cabin, dismounted, an', leavin' their horses to take care of themselves, came in without ceremony. We knowed very well who they were. They were a band of outlaws an' robbers, that had been in the county ever since I could remember, an', bein' too lazy to make an honest livin' by trappin', they went around plunderin' an' stealin' from every one they come across. They had stole three or four horses from us, an' had often come to our cabin an' called for whisky; but that was an article father never kept on hand. Although he was an ole trapper, an' had lived in the woods all his life, he never used it, an' didn't believe in sellin' it to the red-skins. The captain of the outlaws was a feller they called "Mountain Tom," an' he was meaner than the meanest Injun I ever see. He didn't think no more of cuttin' a man's throat than you would of shootin' a buck. The minute they came into the cabin we could see that they had all been drinkin'. They acted like a lot of wild buffalo-bulls, an', young as I was, I could see that they meant mischief, an' I knowed that our chance for life was small indeed. As I arterwards learned, they had been up the river, about two miles, to a half-breed's shanty, an' had found half a barrel of whisky, an', arter killin' the half-breed, an' drinkin' his liquor, they felt jest right for a muss, an' had come down to our cabin on purpose for a fight.

"'"Now, ole Lawson," said Mountain Tom, leanin' his rifle up in the corner, "we have come down here for whisky. We know you've got some; so jest draw your weasel, if you want to save unpleasant feelin's; an' be in a hurry about it, too, for we're mighty thirsty."

"'"Tom," said my father, "how often have I told you that I haven't got a drop of liquor in the shanty? I never had. I don't use it myself, an' I don't keep it for—"

"'"That's a lie!" yelled three or four of the band.

"'"You a trader among the Injuns, an' not keep whisky?"

"'"We know a thing or two more than that."

"'"We have heard that story often enough," said Tom. "We know you have got the liquor, an' we are goin' to get it afore we leave this shanty. If you won't bring it out an' treat, like white man had ought to do, we'll have to look for it ourselves—that's all. Here, boys," he said, turning to his men, "jest jump down into the cellar an' hunt it up, 'cause we know he's got some. An' you, Jake," he added, catching hold of a big, ugly-lookin' feller, "you stand here, an shoot the first one that tries to get away."

"'The men ran down into the cellar, and we could hear them cussin' an' swearin', as they overturned every thing in the useless search. My mother, a'most frightened to death, gathered us children around her, an' sank back into the furthest corner. I thought my father had gone crazy; he strode up an' down the floor of the cabin like some caged wild animal, clenchin' his hands an' grindin' his teeth in a way that showed that there was plenty of fight in him, if he only had a chance to let it out. Once in awhile he would look at his rifle, that hung against the wall, then at the man that stood at the top of the cellar-stairs, guardin' us, as if he had a'most made up his mind to begin a knock-down an' drag-out fight with the rascals. But then he would look at my mother an' us children, back in the corner, an' go to pacin' the floor again. If we had been out of the way, I know that he would not have let them rummage about as he did; he would have had a fight with them that would do your eyes good to look at. But, as it was, I guess he kinder thought that if he was peaceable they would go off an' leave us, arter they found that no whisky was to be had. After searchin' around the cellar for more 'n ten minutes, one of 'em called out,

"'"Wal, boys, it's easy enough to see that the cuss has fooled us. Thar's no liquor here. He's hid it in the woods, somewhere 'bout the shantee."

"'"That's so," said another. "I'll bet he has got plenty of whisky somewhere. Let's go up and hang him till he tells us where it is."

"'"No, no, that won't do," said Mountain Tom. "You fellers are gettin' so that you talk like babies. Shoot the rascal down. We've had trouble enough with him. If we can't get the liquor here, there are plenty of places where we can get it."

"'"That's the talk!" yelled the band. "Shoot him down! Tear him to pieces!"

"'The man who was standin' at the head of the stairs heard all the rascals had said, an', with a yell of delight, he raised his rifle an' drew a bead on my mother. But the ole man was too quick for him. With a bound like a painter, he sprang across the floor, an', grabbin' the villain by the throat, lifted him from his feet, and throwed him down into the cellar, an' in an instant shut the door, an' fastened it with a heavy bar of wood. Then, takin' down his rifle, he said to us, a'most in a whisper,

"'"Now run! run for your lives! We must cross the prairy an' get into the woods afore the rascals cut their way out. Run! quick!"

"'My mother took my sisters by the hand an' led them out, an' me an' my brother followed her. Father closed both the windows an' the door, an' fastened them on the outside. All this while the robbers had been yellin' an' swearin', an' cuttin' away at the cellar-door with their tomahawks; an' we well knowed that they would soon be out an' arter us. Our cabin stood in a large, natural prairy, an' we had to travel full half a mile acrost the open ground afore we come to the woods. My father followed close behind us, with his rifle, ready to shoot the first one that come in sight, an' kept urgin' us to go faster. We hadn't gone more'n half the distance acrost the prairy, when a loud crash and yells of triumph told us, plain enough, that the villains had worked their way out of the cellar. Then heavy blows sounded on the window-shutter, which, strong as it was, we knowed could not long hold out ag'in 'em. In a few minutes it was forced from its hinges, an' Mountain Tom sprang out.

"'"Here they are, boys," he shouted. "Come on! We'll l'arn 'em not to hide—"

"'The report of father's rifle cut short his words, an' Mountain Tom, throwin' his hands high above his head, sank to the ground like a log. By this time the rest of the band had come out, an the bullets rattled around us like hailstones. My father and brother both fell-the latter never to rise; but father, although he had received three bullets, staggered to his feet, an' follered along arter us, loadin' his rifle. Then began the race for life. It seemed to me that we flew over the ground, but the villains gained on us at every step. Just as we reached the woods, my father called out,

"'"Down—down, every one of you! They're going to shoot again!"

"'Obeyin' that order was what saved my life. I throwed myself flat into the bushes, an' escaped unhurt; but both my sisters were shot dead, an' my father received another ball that brought him to the ground. My mother, instead of thinkin' of herself, kneeled beside him, an' supported his head in her arms. The next minute the outlaws entered the woods, an' one passed so close to me that I could have touched him.

"'"Wal, Bill Lawson," said a voice that I knowed belonged to Mountain Tom, "you see I'm here again. I s'pose you kind o' thought you had rubbed me out, didn't you?"

"'"Yes, I did," said father—an' his voice was so weak that I could hardly hear him.

"'"You won't have a chance to draw a bead on me again, I guess. We shoot consider'ble sharp—don't we?"

"'"I shan't live long," said father. "But, whatever you do to me, be merciful to my wife an'—"

"'The dull thud of the tomahawk cut short my father's dying prayer, an' his brains were spattered on the bush where I was concealed; an', a'most at the same moment, another of the band buried his knife in my mother's heart.'

"Old Bill could go no further. He buried his face in his hands an' cried like a child. At length, by a strong effort, he choked down his sobs, and went on.

"'I knew no more until I found myself lyin' in the cabin of an ole hunter, who lived about ten miles from where we used to live. He had been out huntin', an' had found me lyin' close beside my father an' mother. He thought I was dead, too, at first, but he found no wounds on me; so, arter buryin' all my relatives in one grave, he took me home with him. In three or four days I was able to get around again; an', beggin' a rifle an' some powder an' ball of the ole hunter, I started out. I went straight to the grave that contained all I loved on earth, an' there, kneelin' above their heads, I swore that my life should be devoted to but one object—vengeance on the villains who had robbed me of all my happiness. How well I have kept my oath the notches on my knife will show. Seven of them have fallen by my tomahawk; one only is left, an' that is Mountain Tom. For fifteen long years I have been on his trail; but the time will come when my vengeance will be complete.'

"An' the ole man rolled himself up in his blanket, an', turning his back to me, sobbed himself to sleep.

"But my story is not yet told," continued Dick. "About a year arter this, Bill an' me were ridin' along, about noon, in a little valley among the mountains, when we came, all of a sudden, on the camp of two trappers.

"'Heaven be praised! there he is!' said ole Bill.

"An', swinging himself from his horse, he strode up to one of the men, who sprang from his blanket, and ejaculated,

"'Bill Lawson!'

"'Yea, Mountain Tom,' said ole Bill, 'I'm here. You an' me have got a long reckonin' to settle now.'

"The villain at first turned as pale as a skewer; but he seemed to regain his courage, and exclaimed,

"'It won't take us long to settle up,'

"And, quick as lightnin', he drew his knife, an' made a pass at Bill.

"But he had got the wrong buck by the horn. The ole man was as quick as he; an', grabbin' hold of his arm, he took the knife away from him as if he had been a baby.

"'Tom,' said he, as he drew his tomahawk from his belt, 'I've followed you all over this country for fifteen years, an', thank Heaven, I've found you at last.'

"'Oh, Bill,' shrieked the condemned man, sinkin' on his knees before the ole man, 'I was—'

"'Stand up,' said Bill, ketchin' hold of him, an' jerkin' him to his feet. 'You were brave enough when you were killing my wounded father.'

"'Oh, Bill—'

"'With the tomahawk you killed my father, an' by the tomahawk you shall die.'

"'For mercy's sake, Bill,' again shrieked the terrified man, taking hold of a tree for support, 'hear me!'

"The tomahawk descended like a streak of light, and the last of the murderers sank at the ole man's feet. The eighth notch was added to those on the knife, an' the debt was canceled."



CHAPTER XV.

Wild Geese.

About two o'clock in the afternoon the boys concluded that it was about time to start for home; so, after putting out the fire and fastening the door of the cabin, they set out. Archie led the way, with a 'coon slung over each shoulder, and another dangling from his belt behind. The others followed close after him, in "Indian file." In this manner they marched through the woods, joking and shouting, and talking over the events of the day, and now and then indulging in a hearty laugh when they happened to think how Archie looked when he came into the camp, dripping wet. But Archie took matters very good-naturedly, and replied,

"If I had come back without the 'coon, I should never have heard the last of it; and now you laugh at me because I fell into the drink while I was trying to catch him."

In half an hour they reached the edge of the timber, and were about to climb over the fence into the cornfield, when a long, loud bark echoed through the woods.

"That's Brave," exclaimed Frank; "and," he continued, as all the dogs broke out into a continuous cry, "they've found something. Let's go back."

The boys all agreed to this, and they started back through the woods as fast as their legs could carry them.

A few moments' run brought them in sight of the dogs, sitting on their haunches at the foot of a stump, that rose to the hight of twenty feet, without leaf or branch. Near the top were several holes; and, as soon as Frank discovered these, he exclaimed,

"The dogs have got a squirrel in here."

"How are we going to work to get him out?" inquired Archie.

"Let's cut the stump down," said George.

"That's too much sugar for a cent," answered Harry. "That will be working too hard for one squirrel."

"Why will it?" asked George. "The stump is rotten."

And he laid down his 'coon, and walked up and dealt the stump several lusty blows with his ax.

Suddenly two large black squirrels popped out of one of the holes near the top, and ran rapidly around the stump. Quick as thought, Frank, who was always ready, raised his gun to his shoulder, and one of the squirrels came tumbling to the ground; but, before he had time to fire the second barrel, the other ran back into the hole.

"Hit the tree again, George," exclaimed Harry, throwing down his 'coon, and bringing his gun to his shoulder.

"It's no use," said Frank; "they will not come out again, if you pound on the stump all day."

George, however, did as his brother had requested, but not a squirrel appeared.

"Let's cut the tree down," said Archie.

And, suiting the action to the word, he set manfully to work.

A few blows brought off the outside "crust," and the heart of the tree was found to be decayed, and, in a few moments, it came crashing to the ground, and was shivered into fragments by the fall.

The boys supposed that there was only one squirrel in the tree, and were running up to secure him, when, to their surprise, they discovered a number of the little animals scattering in different directions, and drawing "bee-lines" for the nearest trees.

Frank killed one with his remaining barrel, and Harry, by an excellent shot, brought down another that had climbed up into the top of a tall oak, and was endeavoring to hide among the leaves. Brave and Sport both started after the same one, and overtook and killed it before it could reach a tree; but the grayhound came very near losing his. As soon as the stump had fallen, he singled out one of the squirrels, and, with two or three of his long bounds, overtook it; but, just as he was going to seize it, the squirrel dived into a pile of brush, out of the reach of the hound. A few loud, angry yelps brought Archie and George to his assistance, and they immediately began to pull the pile of brush to pieces. Suddenly the squirrel darted out, and started for a tree that stood about two rods distant. The boys threw their clubs at him, but he reached the foot of the tree unharmed. At this moment Lightfoot discovered him; two or three bounds carried him to the tree, and, crouching a moment, he sprang into the air, and attempted to seize the squirrel. But he was just a moment too late; the little animal had ascended out of his reach; but the next moment the sharp report of Harry's gun brought him to the ground.

The squirrels were now all secured, and the young hunters again turned their faces homeward.

One cold, stormy night, in the latter part of October, Frank and his cousin lay snug in bed, listening to the howling of the wind and the pattering of the rain against the window, and talking over their plans for the future, when, all at once, Frank sat upright in bed, and, seizing Archie's arm with a grip that almost wrung from him a cry of pain, exclaimed,

"Listen! listen!"

And the next moment, clear and loud above the noise of the storm, they heard the trumpet-like notes of a flock of wild geese. They passed over the house, and the sound grew fainter as they flew rapidly away.

"My eye!" exclaimed Archie, "don't I wish it was daylight, and we stood out in front of the house, with our guns all ready!"

"That's a nice thing to wish for," answered Frank; "but, if it were daylight, we should not stand any better chance of shooting them than we do here in bed."

"What's the reason?"

"Why, in the first place, if they went over at all, they would fly so high that it would need a rifle to reach them; and, in the next place, we have not got a rifle. Just wait until morning, and we'll make a scattering among them, if some one don't get the start of us."

"I suppose we are not the only ones that have heard them."

"Not by a good deal. I shouldn't wonder if there were a dozen fellows that have made up their minds to have a crack at them in the morning."

And Frank was right. Many a young hunter, as he lay in bed and heard the wild geese passing over, had determined to have the first shot at them, and many a gun was taken down, and cleaned and loaded, in readiness for the morning's hunt.

Wild geese seldom remained longer than two or three days about the village, and then they generally staid in the swamp. This made it difficult for the young hunters to get a shot at them, and only the most active and persevering ever succeeded.

Although for a month the young sportsmen had been expecting them, and had carefully scanned the river every morning, and listened for the welcome "honk-honk" that should announce the arrival of the wished-for game, this was the first flock that had made its appearance.

"I am afraid," said Archie, "that some one will get the start of us. Let's get up."

"No; lie still and go to sleep," said Frank.

"I am afraid we shall oversleep ourselves. I wonder what time it is."

"I'll soon find out," said Frank.

And, bounding out on to the floor, he lighted a match, and held it up before the little clock that stood on the mantle-piece.

"It's twelve o'clock," he continued.

And he crawled back into bed, and in a few moments was almost asleep, when Archie suddenly exclaimed,

"They're coming back!"

And the geese again passed over the house, in full cry.

They knew it was the same flock, because they came from toward the river, and that was the same direction in which they had gone but a few moments before.

In a short time they again returned; and, during the quarter of an hour that followed, they passed over three times more.

"I wonder what is the matter with those geese," said Archie, at length.

"Nothing," replied Frank; "only they have got a little bewildered, and don't know which way to go."

"Where will we have to go to find them in the morning?"

"Up to the swamp," answered Frank. "The last time they passed over they flew toward the north, and the swamp is the only place in that direction where they can go to find water, except Duck Lake, and that is too far for them to fly this stormy night."

"I wish it was morning," said Archie, again. "Let's get up."

"What's the use? It will be five long hours before it will be light enough to hunt them up; and we might as well go to sleep."

"I'm afraid we shall sleep too long," said Archie, again, "and that some one will beat us."

"No fear of that," answered Frank; "I'll wake you up at three o'clock."

And he turned over and arranged his pillow, and in a few moments was fast asleep. But Archie was so excited that he found it difficult even to lie still; and he lay awake almost two hours, thinking of the sport they should have in the morning, and at last dropped into an unquiet slumber.

It seemed to him that he had hardly closed his eyes, when a strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice said, in his ear,

"Wake up here; it's three o'clock."

He did not need a second call, but was out on the floor in an instant.

It was still storming. The wind moaned and whistled through the branches of the trees around the cottage, and sent the big drops of rain rattling against the window. It was a wild time to go hunting, and some boys would have preferred tumbling back into bed again. But Frank and his cousin had made up their minds that if any one got a shot at the geese, they were to be the ones.

As soon as they were dressed, Frank led the way into the kitchen, and, while he was lighting a fire, Archie brought out of the pantry a pan of milk, two spoons and bowls, and a loaf of bread. He was so impatient to "get a crack at the geese," as he said, that, although he was very fond of bread and milk, he could scarcely eat at all.

"I'm afraid some one will get the start of us," he exclaimed, noticing that his cousin, instead of being in a hurry, was taking matters very coolly.

"What if they do?" answered Frank, deliberately refilling his bowl from the pan. "We shall stand just as good a chance as they do. It will not be daylight these two hours. It's as dark as pitch, and all we can do is to go up to the swamp, and get under a tree, and wait until it is light enough to see where our geese are."

As soon as they had finished their breakfast, they brought out their guns, and began to prepare for the hunt. Extra charges were put in each barrel; and, while they were drawing on their rubber coats, Archie said,

"We had better leave my dogs at home, hadn't we? Lightfoot would make too much noise, and Sport, although he would keep still enough, would be of no use to us, for he will not go into the water after a wounded bird."

"Yes," said Frank, "we had better leave them behind. But we must have Brave with us. I'll go and call him."

And he opened the door, and, walking out upon the piazza, which ran entirely around the cottage, gave a low whistle. There was a slight rustling among the straw in the kennel where the dogs slept, and Brave came out, and followed his master into the house.

After wrapping up their guns in their coats, they were ready to set out.

Half an hour's walk, through mud up to their ankles, brought them to Uncle Mike's house, which stood at the end of the road, and, climbing over the fence that inclosed his pasture, they struck off through the woods toward the lake.

After picking their way for half a mile over fallen logs, and through wet, tangled bushes, Frank, who was leading the way, suddenly stopped, and, leaning back against a tree to get out of the rain, said,

"Here we are. Had we better try to cross the creek now, or shall we wait until daylight?"

"You must have cat's eyes," said Archie, trying to peer through the darkness. "I knew there was a creek here somewhere, but I didn't suppose we had reached it yet."

"Well, we have; and, unless I am very much mistaken, you will find the bridge right before you. Shall we try to cross it now? It will be a slippery job."

The "bridge" that Frank referred to was simply a large tree that the boys had felled across the creek, and stripped of its branches. It could easily be crossed in the day-time, but in a dark, stormy night it was a difficult task to undertake. The boys could scarcely see their hands before them; and Frank had accomplished something worth boasting of in being able to conduct his cousin directly to the bridge.

"It will require the skill of a rope-dancer to cross that bridge now," said Archie; "and, if we should happen to slip off into the water, we would be in a nice fix."

"Besides," said Frank, "if we did succeed in crossing, we could not go far in the dark, on account of the swamp; so, I think, we had better wait."

The boys stood under the tree, talking in low tones, when Frank suddenly exclaimed,

"We're all right. The geese are in the lake. Do you hear that?"

Archie listened, and heard a splashing in the water, mingled with the hoarse notes of the gander.

"I wish it was daylight," said he, impatiently.

"Don't be in a hurry," said Frank; "there's time enough."

"I'm afraid they will start off as soon as it gets light."

"Oh, no; the lake is a good feeding-ground, and they would stay, perhaps, all day, if they were not disturbed."

In about an hour the day began to dawn; and, as soon as objects on the opposite side of the creek could be discerned, Frank led the way across the bridge. A short run through the woods brought them to the swamp.

Now the hunt began in earnest. The swamp was covered with water, which, in some places, was two feet deep; and the trees and bushes grew so thick, that it was with difficulty that they could work their way through them. Besides, they were obliged to proceed very carefully, for every step brought them nearer the game; and the slightest splashing in the water, or even the snapping of a twig, might alarm them.

At length they found themselves on the shore of the lake; and, peering out from behind a thicket, where they had crept for concealment, they discovered, about half-way to the opposite shore, as fine a flock of geese as one would wish to see—fifteen of them in all. They were swimming around, turning their heads first one way and then the other, as if they had been alarmed.

"It's a long shot, isn't it?" said Archie, measuring the distance with his eye.

"Yes," answered his cousin; "but that is not the worst of it; they are getting further away from us every moment."

"Well," said Archie, cocking his gun, and pushing it carefully through the bushes, "you be ready to take them as they rise."

As he spoke he took a quick aim at the nearest of the flock, and pulled the trigger. The cap snapped.

"Plague on the gun!" he exclaimed. "Shall I throw it in the lake!"

"No, no," answered Frank; "try the other barrel; and you had better be quick about it—they're going to fly."

Archie again raised his gun to his shoulder. This time there was no mistake. The nearest of the geese received the entire charge, and lay dead on the water.

Frank now waited for his turn; but the geese, after skimming along the surface of the water until they were out of gun-shot, rose in the air, and flew rapidly across the lake.

As the boys stood watching their flight, they saw a cloud of smoke issue from a clump of bushes on the opposite shore, followed by the report of a gun, and one of the flock fell to the water, and another, evidently badly wounded, rose high in the air, and flew wildly about. Another puff of smoke rose from the bushes, a second report was heard, and the wounded bird came tumbling into the lake.

The geese, surprised at this sudden repulse, quickly wheeled, and flew back toward the place where our hunters were stationed.

Frank raised his gun to his shoulder, and, as soon as they came within range, he pulled the trigger, and brought down two geese—one stone-dead, and the other with a broken wing. Hardly waiting to see the effect of the shot, he fired his second barrel at the flock, just as they were disappearing over the tops of the trees. They had flown so high, that he hardly expected the shot would prove effective. To his surprise, one of the flock gradually fell behind, and, after trying in vain to support itself, fell slowly through the air, until it almost reached the water; then it seemed to regain the power of using its wings, and began to fly more regularly.

"Try your gun again, Archie," said Frank; "I'm afraid we are going to lose him."

Archie accordingly drew a bead on the goose, but with no better success, and the bird speedily disappeared over the trees.

"Confound my luck!" exclaimed Archie, impatiently. "I'll try and keep my powder dry after this."

"He can't fly far," said Frank. "Let's be lively, and we will have him yet. Here, Brave!" he continued, pointing to the geese in the lake, "fetch 'em out!"

Brave plunged into the water, and made toward the nearest of the geese, which happened to be the one Frank had wounded. As soon as the bird saw him approaching, instead of trying to save himself by flight, he raised himself in the water, elevated his uninjured wing, and set up a loud hiss. But these hostile demonstrations, instead of intimidating the Newfoundlander, served rather to enrage him, and he kept on, with open mouth, ready to seize the game. The moment he came within reach, the goose thrust out his long neck, and, catching Brave by the ear, dealt him a hard blow over the head with his wing. But he did not have time to repeat it, for the dog gave a loud, angry yelp, and, springing forward in the water, seized the goose, and killed it with a single bite; then, turning round, he swam back to the shore, deposited the game at his master's feet, and again plunged in to bring out the others.

"I wonder who that is on the other side of the lake?" said Archie.

"I guess it's Bill Johnson," answered Frank, who had reloaded his gun, and stood holding it in the hollow of his arm. "I saw a dog that looked very much like his bringing out the geese. There he is now!"

And as he spoke the boy stepped out of the bushes, and a loud, shrill whistle echoed across the lake.

"That's Bill," said Archie. "Hallo!" he continued, raising his voice so that William could hear; "wait for us at Uncle Mike's—will you?"

"All right," shouted William, in reply.

And, gathering up his game, he again disappeared in the bushes.

By this time Brave had brought out the last of the geese, and Archie had succeeded in shooting off the wet charge; so they started back toward the road.

Frank led the way, carrying three of the geese; Brave followed close at his heels, carrying the fourth; and Archie brought up the rear, loading his gun as he went.

An hour's walk brought them to Uncle Mike's, where they found William sitting on the fence, waiting for them.

"What luck?" inquired Archie, as they came up.

"Only two," answered William; "but you have been more fortunate."

"Yes," said Archie, "we've got four; and Frank wounded another so badly that he can't fly far. We are going to look for him in the creek, as we go along."

"And I hope we shall get him," said Frank; "for he was the largest of the flock, and I want him for our museum."

The boys walked slowly down the creek, keeping a good look-out for the wounded bird among the reeds along the bank; but they reached the cottage without seeing any signs of him.

"I'm afraid we've lost him," said Archie.

"I'm sorry," said Frank, "for he was a nice, big fellow. Let's go back; perhaps we've overlooked him. I am certain that he could not have flown to the river."

At this moment a slight splashing in the water, on the opposite side of the creek, attracted their attention, and they discovered their game swimming slowly about among the reeds, as if trying to find some place of concealment.

"Now, Archie," said Frank, dropping the butt of his gun to the ground, "there's a chance for you to retrieve your lost reputation."

"And I'll take advantage of it," said Archie, raising his gun to his shoulder.

A loud report followed his words, and the goose, after a few slight struggles, lay motionless on the water. Brave immediately sprang into the creek, and, forcing his way among the reeds, seized the bird and brought it to the shore.



CHAPTER XVI.

Chapter of Incidents.

The next day had been set apart by Frank and his cousin for a squirrel-hunt; but the first thing they heard, when they awoke in the morning, was the pattering of the rain against their bedroom window, and the hunt was, to use Archie's expression, "up stump." Although they had been expecting exciting times, bringing down the squirrels (for the woods were fairly alive with them), and were a good deal disappointed at being obliged to postpone their intended excursion, they were not the ones to complain, they knew there would be many pleasant days before the winter set in, and the hunt was put off without ceremony.

They were at no loss to know how to pass the day. There was plenty of work to be done: their traps must be overhauled and put in working order; the Speedwell was waiting to be dismasted and put cover; their fishing-tackle must be oiled and packed away, their pets taken care of and provided with winter-quarters; and there was a host of other things to attend to; and they were in no fear that the time would hang heavily on their hands.

As soon as the boys were dressed, they went into the shop and set manfully to work. Archie kindled a fire in the stove—for it was a cold, unpleasant day—and Frank pulled from under the work-bench a large chest, filled with spring-traps, "dead-falls," broken reels, scraps of lead, and numberless other things he had collected, and began to pull over the contents. The traps were taken out and subjected to a thorough rubbing and greasing.

While thus engaged, their attention was attracted by the peculiar "cawing" of a crow that flew over the shop, and, a moment afterward, a whole chorus of the harsh notes sounded in the direction of the woods. The boys hurried to the door, and saw a multitude of crows pouring from every part of the woods, cawing with all their might, and directing their course toward a large pine-tree, which stood in the meadow back of the orchard, and which was already covered with them.

"What's the matter?" inquired Archie.

"They act as if they had discovered an owl," answered Frank.

"Have they? Let's go and shoot him."

"That will, probably, be a harder job than you anticipate," said Frank. "However, we will try."

After shutting the dogs up in the shop, the boys ran into the house, drew on their rubber coats, and started through the orchard, loading their guns as they went—putting an extra charge of powder and a couple of buck-shot into each barrel.

In a few moments they reached the fence that ran between the orchard and the meadow, and Archie inquired,

"What shall we do now?"

"We can't go much further," said Frank, drawing a flap of his coat over his gun, to protect it from the rain. "There isn't a stump, or even a tuft of grass, in the meadow large enough to cover us. Besides, if we undertake to climb over the fence, every crow will be out of sight in a moment; then good-by, owl."

"He wouldn't fly off, would he?"

"I should say he would," answered Frank, with a laugh. "He'd leave like a streak of lightning."

"That's news to me. I always thought owls couldn't see in the day-time. Natural history says so."

"I know it," said Frank. "But there is one thing certain: they must be able to see a little, or else their sense of smell or hearing is very acute for it is very difficult to get a shot at them, even in the day-time. That one in our museum led me a chase of half a day before I shot him, and I had a rifle, too."

"What is to be done now?" inquired Archie. "We don't want to stand here in the rain much longer."

"We must wait until he flies into the woods, or somewhere else, so that we can get a shot at him."

"I can make him fly. I've killed squirrels further off than that, many a time. Suppose I shoot at him?"

"Shoot away; but you must remember that an owl and a squirrel are two different things. The thick feathers of the owl will glance a charge of shot that would blow a squirrel to pieces."

Archie made no reply, but crawled up behind a thick cluster of currant-bushes that grew close by the fence, and, thrusting his gun between the branches, was settling himself into a comfortable position, when the owl suddenly leaped from his perch, and flew off toward the woods, as Frank had said he would, "like a streak of lightning," followed by the whole flock of his tormentors, which screamed with all their might.

"Now's our time," said Frank. "Come on!"

And, clearing the fence at a bound, he started across the meadow at the top of his speed. Archie followed close at his heels, and a few minutes run brought them to the edge of the woods.

"Now the hunt begins in earnest," said Frank, "We must separate; we shall make too much noise if we go together."

"Where's the owl?" inquired Archie.

"As near as I can guess, he must be in that tall hemlock," answered Frank, pointing through the woods toward the tree in question.

Archie immediately moved cautiously off in the direction indicated, leaving his cousin to take care if himself.

Guided by the noise made by the crows, he soon discovered the owl, not where Frank had supposed him to be, but on a tree that stood to the right, and several rods further off. Placing a large tree between himself and the game, he threw himself on his hands and knees, and crawled along as silently as possible, taking good care to keep out of sight of the crows.

He had arrived almost within range of the owl, when he found before him a spot of considerable extent, which was entirely destitute of bushes or large trees, and covered only with saplings, which grew so thinly that he would certainly be discovered if he attempted to pass through them. This brought him to a stand-still. He stood thinking whether he had better risk a shot at the owl or retrace his steps, when one of the crews uttered a cry of warning, which was immediately answered by the others, and the whole flock was out of sight in an instant. The owl gazed around a moment with his great eyes, then spread his wings, leaped into the air, and was flying rapidly away, when there was a sharp report, and he came tumbling to the ground, and the indefatigable Frank rose from the bushes, and ran forward to secure his prize.

"Dished again!" said Archie, to himself. "I would have wagered a good deal that Frank was not within gun-shot."

"I say, Archie, where are you?" called out Frank.

"Here I am. I thought, sure, that owl was mine."

And Archie came forward, holding his gun in the hollow of his arm, and looking a little crest-fallen.

"You were not far behind," said Frank, laughing.

"That's poor consolation. I wanted to be first. Never mind," he added, catching up the owl, and throwing it over his shoulder, "I'll be ahead of you yet."

This generous rivalry had existed between the cousins from their earliest boyhood. In all athletic sports—such as running, ball-playing, swimming, and the like—Archie was acknowledged to be the superior; but in hunting Frank generally carried off the palm. Archie, however, perseveringly kept up the contest, and endeavored to accomplish, by bold and rapid movements, what his cousin gained by strategy; and, although he sometimes bore off the prize, he more frequently succeeded in "knocking every thing in the head" by what the boys called his "carelessness."

This was the source of a great deal of merriment between the cousins; and, although they sometimes felt a little mortified at their defeat (as did Archie now), they ever afterward spoke of it as a "good joke."

After breakfast the boys went into the shop again, and Frank sharpened his knife, and began to remove the skin of the owl, intending to stuff it and place it in the museum, while Archie took his ax and started for a grove of willows, that grew on the banks of the creek, to get some timber to make a dead-fall trap. He had been gone scarcely a moment before he returned in a great hurry, and, throwing down his ax, seized his gun, which stood in the corner behind the door, exclaiming,

"Now I've got a chance to make up for losing that owl. A flock of ducks, regular canvas-backs, have just flown over, and I think they lit in the swamp. You'll have to make tracks to get the start of me this time."

And he shouldered his gun, and ran out of the shop, banging the door after him.

Frank immediately dropped the owl, caught up his gun, and started in hot pursuit. But his cousin had made the most of his time, and, when Frank reached the gate, he saw Archie far up the road, tearing along as fast as his legs could carry him, and spattering the mud in every direction.

Under any other circumstances, Frank would have stopped to laugh; but, as it was, he had no time to lose. So he ran down the bank of the creek, and, untying his skiff, pushed out into the stream, and a few strokes of the oars brought him to the opposite shore; then, fastening the skiff to a tree, he started through the woods, toward the swamp. This enabled him to gain on his cousin almost half a mile.

But Archie happened to have luck on his side this time; for the ducks, instead of alighting in the swamp, as he had supposed, had come down in the creek; and, as he was hurrying along the road, which ran close to the creek, a slight splashing in the water and a hoarse "quack" attracted his attention, and caused him to proceed with more caution. He listened until the noise was repeated, in order that he might know exactly where the ducks were, and then began to worm his way through the wet bushes, in the direction of the sound. At length he crawled up behind a large log, that lay close to the water's edge, and had the satisfaction of finding the game fairly before him.

But the most difficult part of the undertaking was yet to come. The ducks—seven of them in all—were fully twenty rods off; and, although Archie had great confidence in the "shooting qualities" of his gun, he hardly dared to fire—he might only wound the birds; and, as he had no ammunition with him besides the loads in his gun, he was anxious to make every shot tell.

"This won't do," he soliloquized. "I must get up nearer."

He was about to retrace his steps, when he noticed that the ducks began to move impatiently around, and acted as if about to fly.

In an instant Archie's mind was made up; it was now or never; and, taking a quick aim at the nearest of the flock, he blazed away. It was his only chance, and a slim one at that, for the distance was so great that he hardly expected the shot would take effect; but, when the smoke cleared away, he discovered one of the flock lying motionless on the water, and another, too badly wounded to rise, was swimming slowly around him. The rest of the flock were skimming along the surface of the creek, toward the swamp. They were far beyond the range of his gun, and he knew it would do no good to fire at them; so he concluded, to use his own expression, to "make sure of what he had got," and, taking aim at the wounded bird, was about to give it the contents of the other barrel, when he heard the report of a gun some distance further up the creek, and looked up just in time to see one of the birds fall into the water.

"Who's that, I wonder," said Archie, to himself. "It can't be Frank, for he wouldn't be on that side of the creek; besides, I had a good long start of him."

His soliloquy was cut short by the movements of the flock, which, instead of continuing on their course up the creek, rose higher in the air, and flew about in confusion.

This opportunity was not lost by the concealed sportsman, and a second bird came down with a broken wing. The ducks then wheeled and flew back toward the place where Archie was stationed. As soon as they came within range, he fired and brought down another bird, which landed among the bushes on the opposite side of the creek.

He now turned his attention to the wounded duck, which was swimming in a circle around his dead companion, as if perfectly bewildered.

"I wish I had my powder-flask and shot-bag," said Archie. "How foolish I was not to bring them! I bet that I'll never start out again with only one load in my gun."

But there was no time for regrets. The duck seemed to be recovering his strength, and began co flap his wings, as if preparing to fly. Archie began to fear that he should lose him; and, throw down his gun, he gathered up an armful of sticks and branches, and straightway opened fire on the bird. The duck dodged the missiles like a flash, and every now and then renewed his attempts to fly; but, at length, a heavy piece of root struck him, and stretched him out lifeless on the water.

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed a strong, cheery voice. "That's what I call shooting ducks under difficulties."

Archie looked up and saw his cousin standing on the opposite side of the creek, with his gun on one shoulder and two of the flock slung over the other.

"I came very near getting the start of you, after all—didn't I?" continued Frank.

"Was that you shooting up there?" inquired Archie.

"Yes; I had almost reached the swamp, when I happened to think that perhaps the ducks might be in the creek, so I turned back."

"A lucky circumstance for you. But I beat you, after all. I've got three ducks."

"Where are they? I don't see but two."

"The other is over there in the bushes, somewhere."

Frank immediately commenced looking for it, and Archie procured a long branch, and waded out as far as possible into the creek, and, after considerable exertion and a thorough wetting, succeeded in pulling both of his ducks to the shore.

During the three weeks that followed, the boys passed the time in various ways—sometimes hunting in the woods or on the river, but more frequently working in the shop. They also spent considerable time in attending to their pets. The young otter proved to be the most interesting little animal they had ever seen. He grew quite tame, and when the boys entered the room where he was kept, he would come toward them, uttering a faint whine, and, if they seated themselves, he would jump up into their laps, and search through their pockets for something to eat—such as bread or crackers, of which the boys always took especial care to have a good supply.