ontrive. Leave that to me. Well,
Nat, it is to be then. Only think first; we may be away for years."

"I don't mind, sir; only I should like to be able to write to Uncle
Joe," I said.

"You may write to him once a week, Nat, and tell him all our adventures,
my boy; but I don't promise you that you will always be able to post
your letters. There, time is short. You shall go out with me this
morning."

"Where to, uncle?" I said.

"To the gunsmith's, my boy. I shall have to fit you up with a light
rifle and double shot-gun; and what is more, teach you how to use them.
Get your cap and let's go: there is no time to spare."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

HOW I LEARNED TO SHOOT.

I did not know where we were going, or how we got there, in my state of
excitement; but I found myself as if in a dream handling guns and rifles
that my uncle placed before me, and soon after we were in a long passage
place with a white-washed target at the end, and half a dozen guns on a
table at my side.

"Look here, Nat," said Uncle Dick, "time soon steps by, my boy, and you
will grow older and stronger every day, so I shall let you have both gun
and rifle a little too heavy for you. You must make shift with them at
first, and you will improve in their use day by day."

"Yes, uncle," I said as I looked at the beautifully finished weapons
from which we were to choose.

"Did you ever fire off a gun?" said my uncle.

"No, uncle."

"You will not be afraid?"

"Will it hurt me, uncle?"

"No."

"Then I'm not afraid," I said.

He liked my confidence in his word, and nodded approval.

Just then the man with us took up one of the guns to load it, but my
uncle stopped him.

"No," he said; "let him load for himself. Look, Nat, this is one of the
Patent breech-loading rifles. I pull this lever and the breech of the
gun opens so that I can put in this little roll, which is a cartridge--
do you see?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Now I close it, and the rifle is ready to fire. Next I reopen, take
out the cartridge, and close again. Try if you can do the same."

I took the rifle, and, with the exception of being too hurried and
excited, did nearly as my uncle had done.

"Now, my boy," he said, "the piece is loaded, and a loaded gun or rifle
is a very dangerous thing. Never play with your piece; never trifle in
any way; never let your barrel be pointed at those who are with you.
Remember those bits of advice."

"Yes, uncle."

"There, no