boys. But they were very different from the nice brown ones Mrs. Mullin gave them; for in spite of Tommy’s struggles they would fall in the ashes, and there was no salt to eat with them. By the time the last were toasted, the young hunters were so hungry they could have eaten anything, and not a berry was left.
“I set the trap down there, for I saw a hole among the vines, and I shouldn’t wonder if we got a rabbit or something,” said Tommy, when the last bone was polished. “You go and catch some more fish, and I’ll see if I have caught any old chap as he went home to dinner.”
Off ran Tommy; and the other boy went slowly back to the brook, wishing with all his might he was at home eating sweet corn and berry pie.
The trout had evidently gone to their dinners, for not one bite did poor Billy get; and he was just falling asleep when a loud shout gave him such a fright that he tumbled into the brook up to his knees.
“I’ve got him! Come and see! He’s a bouncer,” roared Tommy, from the berry bushes some way off.
Billy scrambled out, and went as fast as his wet boots would let him, to see what the prize was. He found Tommy dancing wildly round a fat gray animal, who was fighting to get his paws out of the trap, and making a queer noise as he struggled about.
“What is it?” asked Billy, getting behind a tree as fast as possible, for the thing looked fierce, and he was very timid.
“A raccoon, I guess, or a big woodchuck. Won’t his fur make a fine cap? I guess the other fellows will wish they’d come with us.” said Tommy, prancing to and fro, without the least idea what to do with the creature.
“He’ll bite. We’d better run away and wait till he’s dead,” said Billy.
“Wish he’d got his head in, then I could carry him off; but he does look savage, so we’ll have to leave him awhile, and get him when we come back. But he’s a real beauty.” And Tommy looked proudly at the bunch of gray fur scuffling in the sand.
“Can we ever eat him?” asked hungry Billy, ready for a fried crocodile if he could get it.
“If he’s a raccoon, we can; but I don’t know about woodchucks. The fellows in my books don’t seem to have caught any. He’s nice and fat; we might try him when he’s dead,” said Tommy, who cared more for the skin to show than the best meal ever cooked.
The sound of a gun echoing through the wood gave Tommy a good idea, -
“Let’s find the man and get him to shoot this chap; then we needn’t wait, but skin him right away, and eat him too.”
Off they went to the camp; and catching up their things, the two hunters hurried away in the direction of the sound, feeling glad to know that some one was near them, for two or three hours of wood life made them a little homesick.
They ran and scrambled, and listened and called; but not until they had gone a long way up the mountain did they find the man, resting in an old hut left by the lumbermen. The remains of his dinner were spread on the floor, and he lay smoking, and reading a newspaper, while his dog dozed at his feet, close to a well-filled game-bag.
He looked surprised when two dirty, wet little boys suddenly appeared before him, – one grinning cheerfully, the other looking very dismal and scared as the dog growled and glared at them as if they were two rabbits.
“Hollo!” said the man
“Hollo!” answered Tommy.
“Who are you?” asked the man.
“Hunters,” said Tommy.
“Had good luck?” And the man laughed.
“First-rate. Got a raccoon in our trap, and we want you to come and shoot him,” answered Tommy, proudly.
“Sure?” said the man, looking interested as well as amused.
“No, but I think so.”
“What’s he like?”
Tommy described him, and was much disappointed when the man lay down again, saying, with another laugh, -
“It’s a woodchuck; he’s no good.”
“But I want the skin.”
“Then don’t shoot him, let him die; that’s better for the skin,” said the man, who was tired and didn’t want to stop for such poor game.
All this time Billy had been staring hard at the sandwiches and bread and cheese on the floor, and sniffing at them, as the dog sniffed at him.
“Want some grub?” asked the man, seeing the hungry look.
“I just do! We left our lunch, and I’ve only had two little trout and some old berries since breakfast,” answered Billy, with tears in his eyes and a hand on his stomach.
“Eat away then; I’m done, and don’t want the stuff.” And the man took up his paper as if glad to be let alone.
It was lucky that the dog had been fed, for in ten minutes nothing was left but the napkin; and the boys sat picking up the crumbs, much refreshed, but ready for more.
“Better be going home, my lads; it’s pretty cold on the mountain after sunset, and you are a long way from town,” said the man, who had peeped at them over his paper now and then, and saw, in spite of the dirt and rips, that they were not farmer boys.
“We don’t live in town; we are at Mullin’s, in the valley. No hurry; we know the way, and we want to have some sport first. You seem to have done well,” answered Tommy, looking enviously from the gun to the game-bag, out of which hung a rabbit’s head and a squirrel’s tail.
“Pretty fair; but I want a shot at the bear. People tell me there is one up here, and I’m after him; for he kills the sheep, and might hurt some of the young folks round here,” said the man, loading his gun with a very sober air; for he wanted to get rid of the boys and send them home.
Billy looked alarmed; but Tommy’s brown face beamed with joy as he said eagerly, -
“I hope you’ll get him. I’d rather shoot a bear than any other animal but a lion. We don’t have those here, and bears are scarce. Mullin said he hadn’t heard of one for a long time; so this must be a young one, for they killed the big one two years ago.”
That was true, and the man knew it. He did not really expect or want to meet a bear, but thought the idea of one would send the little fellows home at once. Finding one of them was unscared, he laughed, and said with a nod to Tommy, -
“If I had time I’d take you along, and show you how to hunt; but this fat friend of yours couldn’t rough it with us, and we can’t leave him alone; so go ahead your own way. Only I wouldn’t climb any higher, for among the rocks you are sure to get hurt or lost.”
“Oh, I say, let’s go! Such fun, Billy! I know you’ll like it. A real gun and dog and hunter! Come on, and don’t be a molly-coddle,” cried Tommy, wild to go.
“I won’t! I’m tired, and I’m going home; you can go after your old bears if you want to. I don’t think much of hunting anyway, and wish I hadn’t come,” growled Billy, very cross at being left out, yet with no desire to scramble any more.
“Can’t
