Fantasy literature; Hunting stories; Runaway children -- Juvenile fiction
"I just do! We left our lunch, and I've only had two little trout and
some old berries since breakfast," answered Billy, with tears in his
eyes and a hand on his stomach.
"Eat away then; I'm done, and don't want the stuff." And the man took up
his paper as if glad to be let alone.
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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