JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT. 177 



" Well," said he, after looking at it a moment, 

 ' that 's a new idea, anyway. Shoidd n't wonder 

 ii" it worked ; but I have seen so many new-fangled 

 notions brought into the woods that were not 

 worth a toadstool, that I have about given up 

 ' ver seeing anything better than a piece of bark, 

 Lud a tallow dip, mean and tricky as that is." 



" Well," said I, moistening my finger and lift- 

 ing it into the air, " if that current of wind comes 

 out of the north, we shall want something better 

 than a tallow dip to see through the fog with be- 

 fore ten o'clock." 



" That 's the fact," broke in John ; " I saw, an 

 hour ago, by the way that hard maple brand 

 snapped and glowed, that it was getting colder. By 

 the time you reach the river the fog will be thick 

 enough to cut, and the best thing you can do, both 

 of you, is to bunk in here with me, and help me 

 lessen this bag of ' Lone Jack.' " 



" No," said I, " fog or no fog, we '11 go out. I 

 know how much it would please the party to-mor- 

 row to see a good buck hanging in front of the 

 camp as they come down the lake ; and, Martin, 

 if you will do your part at the paddle, I '11 show 

 you how Never Fail acts when a deer stands look- 

 ing into the muzzles " ; and I patted the stock of 

 fy double rifle, of which it is enough to say that it 

 is " N. Lewis, Troy, N. Y.," etched on either barrel. 

 "Well," replied Martin, as he turned toward 

 8* L 



