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 stop. Good-by. Get along home, and some day I'll come and take
you out with me, little Leatherstocking," said the man, striding off
with the dear gun and dog and bag, leaving Billy to wonder what he meant
by that queer name, and Tommy to console himself with the promise made
him.

"Let's go and see how old Chucky gets on," he said good-naturedly, when
the man vanished.

"Not till I'm rested. I can get a good nap on this pile of hay; then
we'll go home before it's late," answered lazy Billy, settling himself
on the rough bed the lumbermen had used.

"I just wish I had a boy with some go in him; you ain't much better than
a girl," sighed Tommy, walking off to a pine-tree where some squirrels
seemed to be having a party, they chattered and raced up and down at
such a rate.

He tried his bow and shot all his arrows many times in vain, for the
lively creatures gave him no chance. He had better luck with a brown
bird who sat in a bush and was hit full in the breast with the sharpest
arrow. The poor thing fluttered and fell, and its blood wet the green
leaves as it lay dying on the grass. Tommy was much pleased at first;
but as he stood watching its bright eye grow dim and its pretty brown
wings stop fluttering, he felt sorry that its happy little life was so
cruelly ended, and ashamed that his thoughtless fun