fall at full length.

"Poor Tiger! poor Tiger!" said the good-natured sportsman, when
somebody said that the dog did n't act as if he were much used to being
out by night. "He 'll be all right when he once gets track of the
coon." But when they were fairly in the woods, Tiger's distress was
perfectly genuine. The long rays of light from the old-fashioned
lanterns of pierced tin went wheeling round and round, making a tall
ghost of every tree, and strange shadows went darting in and out behind
the pines. The woods were like an interminable pillared room where the
darkness made a high ceiling. The clean frosty smell of the open
fields was changed for a warmer air, damp with the heavy odor of moss
and fallen leaves. There was something wild and delicious in the
forest in that hour of night. The men and boys tramped on silently in
single file, as if they followed the flickering light instead of
carrying it. The dog fell back by instinct, as did his companions,
into the easy familiarity of forest life. He ran beside them, and
watched eagerly as they chose a safe place to leave a coat or two and a
basket. He seemed to be an affectionate dog, now that he had made
acquaintance with his masters.

"Seems to me he don't exactly know what he 's about," said one of the
York boys scornfully; "we must have struck that coon's track somewhere,
comin' in."

"We 'll get through talkin', an' heap up a little somethin' for a fire,
if you 'll turn to and help," said his father. "I 've always noticed
that nobody can give so much good advice about a piece o' work as a new
hand. When you 've treed as many coons as your Uncle Brown an' me, you
won't feel so certain. Isaac, you be the one to take the dog up round
the ledge, there. He 'll scent the coon quick enough then. We 'll
'tend to this part o' the business."

"You may come too, John Henry," said the indulgent father, and they set
off together silently with the coon dog. He followed well enough now;
his tail and ears were drooping even more than usual, but he whimpered
along as bravely as he could, much excited, at John Henry's heels, like
one of those great soldiers who are all unnerved until the battle is
well begun.

A minute later the father and son came hurrying back, breathless, and
stumbling over roots and bushes. The fire was already lighted, and
sending a great glow higher and higher among the trees.

"He's off! He 's struck a track! He was off like a major