icult feat; but he now essayed to perform it
again, with a sort of blind hope that was fated to be disappointed. The
potato was thrown in the usual manner, the rifle was discharged, but the
flying target was untouched.

"To the right-about, and fall out, Quartermaster," said Lundie, smiling
at the success of the artifice. "The honor of the silken calash will lie
between Jasper Eau-douce and Pathfinder."

"And how is the trial to end, Major?" inquired the latter. "Are we to
have the two-potato trial, or is it to be settled by centre and skin?"

"By centre and skin, if there is any perceptible difference; otherwise
the double shot must follow."

"This is an awful moment to me, Pathfinder," observed Jasper, as he
moved towards the stand, his face actually losing its color in intensity
of feeling.

Pathfinder gazed earnestly at the young man; and then, begging Major
Duncan to have patience for a moment, he led his friend out of the
hearing of all near him before he spoke.

"You seem to take this matter to heart, Jasper?" the hunter remarked,
keeping his eyes fastened on those of the youth.

"I must own, Pathfinder, that my feelings were never before so much
bound up in success."

"And do you so much crave to outdo me, an old and tried friend?--and
that, as it might be, in my own way? Shooting is my gift, boy, and no
common hand can equal mine."

"I know it--I know it, Pathfinder; but yet--"

"But what, Jasper, boy?--speak freely; you talk to a friend."

The young man compressed his lips, dashed a hand across his eye, and
flushed and paled alternately, like a girl confessing her love. Then,
squeezing the other's hand, he said calmly, like one whose manhood has
overcome all other sensations, "I would lose an arm, Pathfinder, to be
able to make an offering of that calash to Mabel Dunham."

The hunter dropped his eyes to the ground, and as he walked slowly back
towards the stand, he seemed to ponder deeply on what he had just heard.

"You never could succeed in the double trial, Jasper!" he suddenly
remarked.

"Of that I am certain, and it troubles me."

"What a creature is mortal man! He pines for things which are not of
his gift and treats the bounties of Providence lightly. No matter, no
matter. Take your station, Jasper, for the Major is waiting; and
harken, lad,--I must touch the skin, for I could not show my face in the
garrison with less than that."

"I suppose I must submit to my fate," returned Jasp