230 Trails to Woods and Waters 



running her, you can creep up and put the 

 salt on her tail. Then we can carry her home 

 in a bag." 



Had it not been for the twinkle in Ben's 

 eye as he explained his plan, I should have 

 thought the program decidedly alarming. 

 Even as it was, I fairly lamed my neck look- 

 ing up into the treetops as we journeyed 

 home. I could see Ben watching me from 

 the corner of his eye and trying not to 

 smile. 



The following morning, just when the pink 

 and saffron east had begun to glow and blush, 

 I was awakened by pebbles being tossed 

 against my bedroom window. 



" Come, come, bobcat hunter, get up ! The 

 trail will get cold if we wait too long," called 

 a voice below. 



When I joined Ben a few moments later 

 on the back porch, I found to my great sur- 

 prise that he was not armed, except with a 

 stout club, while in his other hand he carried 

 a small tin pail. 



" Why, Ben, where is old Kentucky? " I 



