tick and a cord noose, now went up the
tree. After much trouble he got the noose around the coon's neck, then,
with some rather rough handling, the animal was dragged down, maneuvered
into the sack, and carried back to camp, where it was chained up to
serve in future lessons; the next two or three being to tree the coon,
as before; in the next, the coon was to be freed and allowed to get out
of sight, so that the dog might find it by trailing, and the last, in
which the coon was to be trailed, treed, and shot out of the tree, so
that the dog should have the final joy of killing a crippled coon, and
the reward of a coon-meat feast. But the last was not to be, for the
night before it should have taken place the coon managed to slip its
bonds, and nothing but the empty collar and idle chain were found in the
captive's place next morning.

These things were in the future however. Rolf was intensely excited over
all he had seen that day. His hunting instincts were aroused. There had
been no very obvious or repellant cruelty; the dog alone had suffered,
but he seemed happy. The whole affair was so exactly in the line of
his tastes that the boy was in a sort of ecstatic uplift, and already
anticipating a real coon hunt, when the dog should be properly trained.
The episode so contrasted with the sordid life he had left an hour
before that he was spellbound. The very animal smell of the coon seemed
to make his fibre tingle. His eyes were glowing with a wild light. He
was so absorbed that he did not notice a third party attracted by the
unusual noise of the chase, but the dog did. A sudden, loud challenge
called all attention to a stranger on the ridge behind the camp. There
was no mistaking the bloated face and white moustache of Rolf's uncle.

"So, you young scut! that is how you waste your time. I'll larn ye a
lesson."

The dog was tied, the Indian looked harmless, and the boy was cowed,
so the uncle's courage mounted high. He had been teaming in the nearby
woods, and the blacksnake whip was in his hands. In a minute its thong
was lapped, like a tongue of flame, around Rolf's legs. The boy gave a
shriek and ran, but the man followed and furiously plied the whip.
The Indian, supposing it was Rolf's father, marvelled at his method
of showing affection, but said nothing, for the Fifth Commandment is a
large one in the wigwam. Rolf dodged some of the cruel blows, but was
driven into a corner of the rock. One end of the lash cros