A MISCHIEVOUS PET. 169 



Tis a long time ago now, though. I reckon 'twur the 

 year arter I'd clurred out o' the timber business on the 

 Willamette. I'd med a sort o' shanty fur myself in a 

 crick bottom whur thur wur a sight o' beaver, an' I 

 wurn't long in makin' a purty fair pile o' pelts. The 

 location whur I'd put up my shanty wur a'most level 

 with the crick. I never thort o' thur bein' sich floods 

 in that leetle crick as kem shortly arter ; an' so I jest 

 plumped it down beside the water at a place whur it 

 med a deep pool. I used to hev lines into this at night, 

 and in the mornin' I found my breakfast o' raal fine 

 trout cotched ready for haulin' out. Wai, I'd got a 

 young beaver, an' thort I'd make a pet o' the critter, as 

 'twur right down lonesome in them diggin's, I can tell 

 yer, 'ithout a mortal to open one's meat-trap to from 

 one end o' the month to the other. I slipped a trap- 

 chain round the critter's neck, and tied him up so as he 

 cudn't leave the hut. 



" Boyees, 'twur a bad day for this coon that he set eyes 

 on that thur beaver. I reckin ye'll think so too when 

 I've finished. I had a fust-rate axe helved wi' hickory 

 wi' me, an' I jest used to leave it lyin' around any- 

 where till I wanted it. One mornin' I found the handle 

 eat off close up agin the head, an' cut up into small 

 pieces. But that wa'n't all. Great Columbus ! how I 

 snorted when I looked over to whur that all-fired crit- 

 tur wur squatted, to see my rifle cut in two behind the 

 trigger-guard, an' packed up wi' my pistols, the axe- 

 handle, four beaver-traps, an' an auger I'd brought wi' 



