The creature that they were pursuing was so fat that he did not run very swiftly, and the dogs gained on him; aware of which, he was making desperate efforts to gain the shelter of a small grove not far off, while stringing along for quite a distance behind were his pursuers. Some were hatless, a few had guns, but most were armed with pitchforks or clubs; and one man, in his zeal, carried a piece of rusty stove-pipe, although what use he proposed to put it to in capturing Bruin, it was difficult to imagine, unless he intended, should Bear gain the grove, to _smoke him out_ with it. The truth is, he was putting up a stove in his cabin when the cry of "Bear, bear," interrupted his labors, and he joined the chase, forgetting that he held anything in his hand. He was wiry, lank, and long-legged, with sandy hair that came down straight and thin upon his shoulders, and being without his coat, with pants that reached only half way between his knees and ankles, he cut a ludicrous figure as he straddled on, followed by a short, dumpy man, who, waddle as ambitiously as he might, swiftly fell behind, without, however, seeming in the least discouraged. "There, they are surrounding the grove," said Tom, as the men and boys spread out from the centre till they had encompassed Bruin's leafy retreat. Soon there was the report of guns, and not long after, the hunters returned, looking tired and disappointed. "The bear must have got away," said Mrs. Jones. But Charley came rushing towards her, and, throwing up his cap, cried,-- "O, isn't it fun! It wasn't a bear, mother; it was only Mr. Abbott's black hog that he lost last fall, and thought was dead. He had run wild, feeding on roots and acorns, and was awful fat. But they didn't know 'twas a hog till they shot him, the dogs kept up such a yelping, and the grass and bushes hid him so. They've gone after a wagon to take him home." But Tom was at work making an opening in the fence nearest the woods; seeing which, Charley called out,-- "What you doing that for, Tom?" "I've been thinking," answered Tom, pleasantly, "that we shall want some wood near the cabin next winter, instead of digging it out of the snow, and I'm fixing a place to drag it through." "Yes, children," added the mother, "Tom and I have been talking it over. Suppose you take hold together and see how big a pile you can get up. It will be so nice to have plenty of wood to cook the corn-cakes with, and keep us comfortable when it's freezing weather!" The project pleased the youngsters, even to Bub, and, headed by Tom, they began at once to put it into execution.