10 • UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



because the meadows and the 'coon tree were now in 

 full view before him. 



Before eight o'clock I was ready, and duly reported 

 at Miles's cottage. In a few minutes we were under 

 way, he carrying a gun and axe, and I leading a snarl- 

 ing cur, which Miles thought might be useful. 



The full moon made the wintry night a perfect one ; 

 not a breath of wind sighed through the bare trees ; the 

 whole earth seemed silent and motionless under the firm 

 white crust we trod upon. There was merit enough and 

 beauty enough in the night alone to warrant a moon- 

 light walk, even though I went home empty-handed. 



" The critters are in there," said Miles, pointing to a 

 big maple. 



" Suppose they are, how are you going to get them 

 ontl Wait for them ?" I asked. 



" Root 'em out. The tree hasn't any holler so we can 

 smoke 'em ; but you get up there and punch 'em out 

 with a stick, and "when they crawl out on the branches 

 shake 'em down to me and the dog." 



" Oh !" I exclaimed, drawing a long breath, " that's 

 your plan. Why didn't you tell me before ?" 



" Because you might have thought best not to come. 

 Now you're here, you won't mind the job, will you ?" 

 he asked, with a grin, that explained the disappointment 

 I had noticed when I half declined his invitation. 



"Your theory, Miles, about punched 'coons coming 

 out of their holes, and all that, is no doubt good, but 

 suppose I can't punch them ?" I asked, and, somehow, 

 my doubts increased as I thought of the bear proving to 

 be bees, as in my great-great grandfather's case. 



