A TASTE OF MAINE BIRCH. 55 
one ;’from its embers and flickering shadows, Uncle 
Nathan read us many a tale of his life in the woods. 
They were the same old hunter’s stories, except that 
they evidently had the merit of being strictly true, 
and hence were not very thrilling or marvelous. Uncle 
Nathan’s tendency was rather to tone down and be- 
little his experiences than to exaggerate them. If he 
ever bragged at all (and I suspect he did just a little, 
when telling us how he outshot one of the famous 
riflemen of the American team, whom he was guiding 
through these woods), he did it in such a sly, round- 
about way that it was hard to catch him at it. His 
passage with the rifleman referred to shows the dif- 
ference between the practical off-hand skill of the 
hunter in the woods and the science of the long-range 
target hitter. Mr. Bull's Eye had heard that his guide 
was a capital shot and had seen some proof of it, and 
hence could not rest till he had had a trial of skill with 
him. Uncle Nathan, being the challenged party, had 
the right to name the distance and the conditions. 
A piece of white paper the size of a silver dollar was 
put upon a tree twelve rods off, the contestants to fire 
three shots each off-hand. Uncle Nathan’s first bullet 
barely missed the mark, but the other two were planted 
well intoit. Then the great rifleman took his turn, and 
missed every time. 
‘“‘ By hemp!” said Uncle Nathan, “I was sorry I 
shot so well, Mr. took it so to heart; and I had 
used his own rifle, too. He did not get over it fora 
week.” 
But far more ignominious was the failure of Mr. 
Bull’s Eye when he saw his first bear. They were 
paddling slowly and silently down Dead River, when 
the guide heard a slight noise in the bushes just be- 

