3 8 Life of Audubon. 



birds, and I retired, very well satisfied with my Christma? 

 sport 



" When I awoke in the morning and made my rounds 

 through the camp, I found a squaw had been delivered 

 of beautiful twins during the night, and I saw the same 

 squaw at work tanning deer-skins. She had cut two vines 

 at the roots of opposite trees, and made a cradle of bark, 

 in which the new-born ones were wafted to and fro with 

 a push of her hand, while from time to time she gave 

 them the breast, and was apparently as unconcerned as j 

 if the event had not taken place. 



" An Indian camp on a hunting expedition is by no 

 means a place of idleness, and although the men do little 

 more than hunt, they perform their task with an industry 

 which borders on enthusiasm. I was invited by three 

 hunters to a bear hunt. A tall, robust, well-shaped fel- 

 low assured me that we should have some sport that 

 day, for he had discovered the haunt of one of large 

 size, and he wanted to meet him face to face; and we 

 four started to see how he would fulfill his boast. About 

 half a mile from the camp he said he perceived his tracks, 

 though I could see nothing ; and we rambled on through 

 the cane brake until we came to an immense decayed 

 log, in which he swore the bear was. I saw his eye 

 sparkle with joy, his rusty blanket was thrown off his 

 shoulders, his brawny arms swelled with blood, as he ! 

 drew his scalping-knife from his belt with a flourish 

 which showed that fighting was his delight. He told me 

 to mount a small sapling, because a bear cannot climb 

 one, while it can go up a large tree with the nimbleness 

 of a squirrel. The two other Indians seated themselves 

 at the entrance, and the hero went in boldly. All was 

 silent for a few moments, when he came out and said the 

 bear was dead, and 1 might come down. The Indians 

 cut a long vine, went into the hollow tree, fastened it tc 



