woods, then behind the stone walls to get
around to the side next the ridge, and crawling so flat on his breast in
the clover that, although it was but a foot high, he was quite invisible
to any one not placed much above him.

In this way he came to the little ridge back of the woodchuck den, quite
unknown to its occupants. But now he was in a difficulty. He could not
see any of them.

They were certainly beyond range of his bow, and it was difficult to
make them seek the den without their rushing into it. But he was
equal to the occasion. He raised one hand and made the query sign, and
watching Rolf he got answer, "All well; they are there." (A level sweep
of the flat hand and a finger pointing steadily.) Then he waited a few
seconds and made exactly the same sign, getting the same answer.

He knew that the movement of the distant man would catch the eye of the
old woodchuck; she would sit up high to see what it was, and when it
came a second time she would, without being exactly alarmed, move toward
the den and call the young ones to follow.

The hunter had not long to wait. He heard her shrill, warning whistle,
then the big chuck trotted and waddled into sight, stopping occasionally
to nibble or look around. Close behind her were the two fat cubs.
Arrived near the den their confidence was restored, and again they began
to feed, the young ones close to the den. Then Quonab put a blunt bird
dart in his bow and laid two others ready. Rising as little as possible,
he drew the bow. 'Tsip! the blunt arrow hit the young chuck on the nose
and turned him over. The other jumped in surprise and stood up. So did
the mother. 'Tsip! another bolt and the second chuck was kicking. But
the old one dashed like a flash into the underground safety of her den.
Quonab knew that she had seen nothing of him and would likely come forth
very soon. He waited for some time; then the gray-brown muzzle of the
fat old clover-stealer came partly to view; but it was not enough for
a shot, and she seemed to have no idea of coming farther. The Indian
waited what seemed like a long time, then played an ancient trick. He
began to whistle a soft, low air. Whether the chuck thinks it is another
woodchuck calling, or merely a pleasant sound, is not known, but she
soon did as her kind always does, came out of the hole slowly and ever
higher, till she was half out and sitting up, peering about.

This was Quonab's chance. He now drew a barbed hunting arro