gs and he was nearly dead.

* * *

Pard, whom I call Co, and I went camping many years ago on a branch
of the Susquehanna River in Lycoming County, Pennsylvania. At that
time all that part of the country was an unbroken wilderness and we
were several miles from the nearest town. Now Co was a good hunter
but despised trapping, saying it was no gentleman's sport, yet he was
always ready to do his share in camp life.

One evening in December Co did not turn up at dark, the usual hour
for his return, still I did not worry much until eight o'clock, but
from that time until about nine I kept going to the door and giving
an occasional "Kho-Hoop," just to let him know the direction of the
camp if he was within ear shot. As Co did not return, about nine
o'clock I shouldered my rifle and started out in the direction that
he had gone, shooting off my gun, and occasionally letting out a
shout that echoed from hill to hill, but no answer came back in
reply. The weather was growing extremely cold and I began to feel
very much worried about Co for although I knew he was a good
woodsman, I imagined all sorts of calamities had befallen him. At
every high point I would fire my gun but never an answer could I
hear. I kept this up till midnight, and then retraced my steps to
camp intending to take an early start in the morning, when I could
see to track my wandering partner.

Judge of my delight, when about half a mile from camp the sharp
report of a rifle rang out on the clear night air, and I knew Pard
had returned alive. I hastened to the shanty where I found Co all
right but as mad as a hornet. As he raved around he exclaimed: "No
one but a--fool would catch anything in a--steel trap. If you must
trap things, get them in something that will stay put." When Co
cooled off a little, I said: "Come old man, tell us what has
happened." "What has happened," said he, "enough has happened, I
should think. I went where you set that tarnal old bear trap and some
critter has got into it and broken the chain and carried it off, and
he makes a track bigger than an elephant. He's making for the big
windfall and I followed him more than forty miles, and he was farther
ahead of me than when I started, and I hope he will get into the old
windfall and stay there till doomsday." Well, Pard felt better when
he had eaten the hot supper I had left for him and we turned in for a
few hours' sleep.

The next day we went to town and got a number of men an