behind him, and
went into the forest behind the hut to cut firewood. She was very
expert at this laborious work. Her blows were indeed light, for her
little arms, although strong for their size, were not strong for such
labour; but she knew exactly where to hit and how to hit. Every stroke
fell on the right spot, with the axe at the right angle, so that a chip
or two flew off every time. She panted a good deal, and grew uncommonly
warm, but she liked the work; her face glowed and her eyes sparkled, and
it was evident that she was not exhausted by it. In little more than an
hour she had cut enough of dry wood to make a fire that would have
roasted an entire sheep. Then she carried it to the hut, after which
she sat down to rest a little.

While resting, she gathered carefully together all the scraps of food in
the hut, and found that there was still enough for two good meals; so
she ate a small piece of dried fish, and began to wish that Roy would
return. Suddenly she was startled by a loud fluttering noise close to
the hut, and went out to see what it could be.

It might be supposed that a little girl in such solitary and unprotected
circumstances would have felt alarmed, and thought of wolves or bears;
but Nelly was too well accustomed to the dangers and risks of the
backwoods to be much troubled with mere fancies. She was well aware
that wolves and bears, as a rule, shun the presence of human beings, and
the noise which she had heard was not of a very alarming character.

The first sight that greeted her was a large bird of the grouse species,
sitting on a tree not three yards from the hut. She almost felt that by
springing forward she could seize it with her hands, and her first
impulse was to throw the axe at it; but, checking herself, she went
noiselessly back into the hut, and quickly reissued with the bow and a
couple of arrows.

Fitting an arrow to the string, she whispered to herself, "Oh, how I
_do_ hope I won't miss it!" and took a careful aim. Anxiety, however,
made her hand unsteady, for, the next moment, the arrow was quivering in
the stem of the tree at least three inches below the bird.

A look of deep disappointment was mingled with an expression of
determination as she pursed her little mouth and fitted the second arrow
to the string. This time she did not take so careful an aim, but let
fly at once, and her shaft entered the bird's throat and brought it to
the ground. With a cry of de