ng on them; and now he smiled, and felt brighter as he
looked.

His forest instincts returned, and, bending his bow, he carelessly
fitted an arrow upon the leather string. What should he shoot at?

There was a very handsome fish upon a neighboring belfry, which was
veering in the wind; and this glittering object seemed to Verty an
excellent mark. As he was about to take aim, however, his quick eye
caught sight of a far speck in the blue sky; and he lowered his bow
again.

Placing one hand above his eyes, he raised his head, and fixed his
penetrating gaze upon the white speck, which rapidly increased in size
as it drew nearer. It was a bird with white wings, clearly defined
against the azure.

Verty selected his best arrow, and placing it on the string, waited
until the air-sailer came within striking distance. Then drawing the
arrow to its head, he let it fly at the bird, whose ruffled breast
presented an excellent mark.

The slender shaft ascended like a flash of light into the air--struck
the bird in full flight; and, tumbling headlong, the fowl fell toward
Verty, who, with hair thrown back, and outstretched arms, ran to catch
it.

It was a white pigeon; the sharp pointed arrow had penetrated and
lodged in one of its wings, and it had paused in its onward career,
like a bark whose slender mast, overladen with canvas, snaps in a
sudden gust.

Verty caught the pigeon, and drew the arrow from its wing, which was
all stained with blood.

"Oh, what large eyes you have!" he said, smiling; "you're a handsome
pigeon. I will not kill you. I will take you home and cure your wing,
and then, if ever I again see Redbud, I will give you to her, my
pretty bird."

Poor Verty sighed, and his eyes drooped as he thought of the girl.

Suddenly, however, a small scroll of yellow paper encircling the
pigeon's neck, and concealed before by the ruffled plumage, caught his
eye.

"Paper! and writing on it!" he said; "why, this is somebody's
pet-pigeon I have shot!"

And tearing off the scroll, Verty read these words, written in a
delicate, running-hand:

"_I am Miss Redbud's pigeon; and Fanny gave me to her_!" Verty
remained for a moment motionless--his eyes expanded till they
resembled two rising moons;--"I am Miss Redbud's pigeon!" Then Redbud
was somewhere in the neighborhood of the town--she had not gone far
out into the wide, unknown world--this pigeon might direct him;--Verty
found a thousand thoughts rushing through