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It was lucky that the dog had been fed, for in ten minutes nothing was left but the napkin; and the boys sat picking up the crumbs, much refreshed, but ready for more.

“Better be going home, my lads; it’s pretty cold on the mountain after sunset, and you are a long way from town,” said the man, who had peeped at them over his paper now and then, and saw, in spite of the dirt and rips, that they were not farmer boys.

“We don’t live in town; we are at Mullin’s, in the valley. No hurry; we know the way, and we want to have some sport first. You seem to have done well,” answered Tommy, looking enviously from the gun to the game-bag, out of which hung a rabbit’s head and a squirrel’s tail.

“Pretty fair; but I want a shot at the bear. People tell me there is one up here, and I’m after him; for he kills the sheep, and might hurt some of the young folks round here,” said the man, loading his gun with a very sober air; for he wanted to get rid of the boys and send them home.

Billy looked alarmed; but Tommy’s brown face beamed with joy as he said eagerly,–

“I hope you’ll get him. I’d rather shoot a bear than any other animal but a lion. We don’t have those here, and bears are scarce. Mullin said he hadn’t heard of one for a long time; so this must be a young one, for they killed the big one two years ago.”

That was true, and the man knew it. He did not really expect or want to meet a bear, but thought the idea of one would send the little fellows home at once. Finding one of them was unscared, he laughed, and said with a nod to Tommy,–

“If I had time I’d take you along, and show you how to hunt; but this fat friend of yours couldn’t rough it with us, and we can’t leave him alone; so go ahead your own way. Only I wouldn’t climb any higher, for among the rocks you are sure to get hurt or lost.”

“Oh, I say, let’s go! Such fun, Billy! I know you’ll like it. A real gun and dog and hunter! Come on, and don’t be a molly-coddle,” cried Tommy, wild to go.

“I won’t! I’m tired, and I’m going home; you can go after your old bears if you want to. I don’t think much of hunting anyway, and wish I hadn’t come,” growled Billy, very cross at being left out, yet with no desire to scramble any more.

“Can’t stop. Good-by. Get along home, and some day I’ll come and take you out with me, little Leatherstocking,” said the man, striding off with the dear gun and dog and bag, leaving Billy to wonder what he meant by that queer name, and Tommy to console himself with the promise made him.

“Let’s go and see how old Chucky gets on,” he said good-naturedly, when the man vanished.

“Not till I’m rested. I can get a good nap on this pile of hay; then we’ll go home before it’s late,” answered lazy Billy, settling himself on the rough bed the lumbermen had used.

“I just wish I had a boy with some go in him; you ain’t much better than a girl,” sighed Tommy, walking off to a pine-tree where some squirrels seemed to be having a party, they chattered and raced up and down at such a rate.

He tried his bow and shot all his arrows many times in vain, for the lively creatures gave him no chance. He had better luck with a brown bird who sat in a bush and was hit full in the breast with the sharpest arrow. The poor thing fluttered and fell, and its blood wet the green leaves as it lay dying on the grass. Tommy was much pleased at first; but as he stood watching its bright eye grow dim and its pretty brown wings stop fluttering, he felt sorry that its happy little life was so cruelly ended, and ashamed that his thoughtless fun had given so much pain.