128 A TASTE OF MAINE BIRCH. 



shot so well, Mr. took it so to heart ; and I had 



used his own rifle, too. He did not get over it for a 

 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- 

 hind a little bend. He whispered to the rifleman, 

 who sat kneeling in the bow of the boat, to take his 

 rifle. But instead of doing so he picked up his two- 

 barreled shot-gun. As they turned the point, there 

 stood a bear not twenty yards away, drinking from 

 the stream. Uncle Nathan held the canoe, while the 

 man who had come so far in quest of this very game 

 was trying to lay down his shot-gun and pick up his 

 rifle. " His hand moved like the hand of a clock," 

 said Uncle Nathan, " and I could hardly keep my 

 seat. I knew the bear would see us in a moment 

 more, and run." Instead of laying his gun by his 

 side, where it belonged, he reached it across in front 

 of him, and laid it upon his rifle, and in trying to get 

 the latter from under it a noise was made ; the bear 

 heard it, and raised his head. Still there was time, 

 for as the bear sprang into the woods he stopped and 

 looked back, "as I knew he would," said the 

 guide ; yet the marksman was not ready. " By 

 hemp ! I could have shot three bears," exclaimed 

 Uncle Nathan, "while he was getting that rifle to his 

 face ! " 



Poor Mr. Bull's Eye was deeply humiliated. 



