92 OLD JAKE " TREED" 



storm-bleached branches shining white in the moon- 

 light. 



From one of those trees old Jake's cries seemed 

 to proceed, and on looking closely the youths perceived 

 the hunter seated on a large branch, close to the trunk, 

 round which he had thrown an arm to support himself. 

 It was comical to see the old fellow dangling his long 

 legs in air, giving continual vent to prolonged unearthly 

 yells, which echoed far through the surrounding forest. 



The lads could not see the foot of the tree which 

 formed the old trapper's perch, owing to the thick en- 

 tanglement of fallen trees which cumbered the ground 

 in every direction. They guessed, however, that the 

 bison which he had followed had turned to bay, and 

 had forced the hunter to take the first refuge that 

 offered itself. On approaching nearer, the quick snort- 

 ing and heavy movements of some large animal became 

 audible ; they therefore proceeded cautiously, so as to 

 get within shot before the bison could detect their 

 proximity. 



Meantime Jake kept the echoes awake calling for 

 assistance. A low whistle from Pierre informed the 

 old hunter of their approach, so he called out, 



" I'm treed by this monstrous beast, and hain't got 

 Plumcentre. Do ee take kear the rotted varmint don't 

 get his peepers on yer, lads, or he'll put ye up a couple 

 o' trees in a brace o' shakes." 



This caution was quite unnecessary ; but the neigh- 

 bourhood was so encumbered with fallen trees and 



