OH, SHOOT! 



ing in the snow, our feet on strips of bark, the 

 while we scorched our underclothes and swore 

 at the weather. Finally, on one particularly 

 drenching morning, Fred and I struck and 

 declared for rest. Our feet and ankles were 

 so swollen that we hobbled painfully, while our 

 systems yelled for sleep. 



About noon Joe said this idleness palled on 

 him and he guessed he'd take a little trip. If 

 he didn't get back that night we needn't 

 worry, as he intended to follow any trail he 

 struck until he got a shot, if he had to sleep 

 out in the rain for a week. He took no grub, 

 his outfit consisting, as usual, of the hand ax 

 at his belt and the popgun between his 

 shoulder blades 



"It '11 be just our luck for him to get a bear 

 to-day," said Stone. "It's the first time in 

 ten days we've laid off." 



"Maybe so," said I, "but if he shoots a 

 bear with that child's gun and the animal 

 happens to find it out, it may go hard with 

 him." 



Two hours after dark we heard a voice out- 

 side the cabin: 



"Hey! What do you think of this? " 



We hobbled out in our sock feet as Joe 

 6 4 



