AT THE OUTSET. 11 



Wliile Miles started a little fire at a short distance 

 from the tree, I considered the matter, and concluded 

 to fall in with his plans as soon as my fingers were suffi- 

 ciently warmed to enable me to climb. Of course, 

 Miles wouldn't climb the tree and let me catch the fall- 

 ing 'coon. He always took advantage of his years, and 

 had that convenient form of rheumatism which prevent- 

 ed his doing anything he could get others to do. It was 

 much the same as the boy's nine-o'clock fever, which se- 

 cures to him an occasional holiday, when the outside of 

 the schoolhouse is more attractive than the inside. 



While we were crouching before a few fiickering 

 flames, a low growl was heard by both of us, and the 

 curious antics of the dog at the same time called us at 

 once to our feet, to discover the precise whereabouts of 

 the 'coons. Miles stepped back a few paces, and, gazing 

 intently at the main crotch of the maple, cried out, after 

 a few seconds, " There it is !" I looked in the direction 

 indicated by him, and, sure enough,- there was the ani- 

 mal. From where it sat no amount of shaking could 

 dislodge it, and to climb the tree would be to put your 

 hand on the animal before you could secure a firm foot- 

 ing. I thought we were bafiled, unless we shot it, which 

 Miles was averse to doing, as he did not wish to have it 

 known he was able to hunt, or work would be expected 

 of him. 



" What shall we do ?" I asked, impatiently, for the 

 whole affair was growing monotonous. 



"Do?" remarked Miles, "why, I mean to snowball 

 the critter till it climbs out on a limb, and then you 

 climb up." 



