s bare head a load that looked heavy enough for a horse. Even little
children carried bundles considerably larger than themselves, and all
were laughing and talking merrily as they made their way to the village
store at the cross-roads.

Kate ran eagerly out to question these people. They must certainly have
seen Harry.

The good-natured negroes readily stopped to talk with Kate. The
ox-driver halted his team, and every head-burdened man, woman, and child
clustered around her, until it seemed as if sumac clouds had spread
between her and the sky, and had obscured the sun.

But no one had seen Harry. In fact, this company, with the accumulated
proceeds of a week's sumac gathering, had come from a portion of the
county many miles from Crooked Creek, and of course, they could bring no
news to Kate.

CHAPTER V.

THE TURKEY-HUNTER.

When Harry left Kate, he quietly walked by the side of Crooked Creek,
keeping his eyes fixed on the tracks of the strange animal, and his
thumb on the hammer of the right-hand barrel of his gun. Before long the
tracks disappeared, and disappeared, too, directly in front of a hole in
the bank; quite a large hole, big enough for a beaver or an otter. This
was capital luck! Harry got down on his hands and knees and examined the
tracks. Sure enough, the toes pointed toward the hole. It must be in
there!

Harry cocked his gun and sat and waited. He was as still as a dead
mouse. There was no earthly reason why the creature should not come out,
except perhaps that it might not want to come out. At any rate, it could
not know that Harry was outside waiting for it.

He waited a long time without ever thinking how the day was passing on;
and it began to be a little darkish, just a little, before he thought
that perhaps he had better go back to Kate.

But it might be just coming out, and what a shame to move! A skin that
would bring five dollars was surely worth waiting for a little while
longer, and he might never have such another chance. He certainly had
never had such a one before.

And so he still sat and waited, and pretty soon he heard something. But
it was not in the hole--not near him at all. It was farther along the
creek, and sounded like the footsteps of some one walking stealthily.

Harry looked around quickly, and, about thirty yards from him, he saw a
man with a gun. The man was now standing still, looking steadily at him.
At least Harry thought he was, but there was so