THE SKIN OF THE TIGER-CAT. 161 



" Come and see how they will admire it at the camp ; that is 

 the greatest trophy of the year ! " 



" No, it isn't no trophy," said Mike, in an extenuating tone, not 

 moving from his place; "it is the best I had to give you, Lou 

 Jackson. I 'd give you anything you 'd ask fur." His deep voice 

 quivered as he spoke. 



" Thank you, Mike, thank you ! " said Lou, turning hastily to 

 the hunter and seizing his hand, " it is everything I want ! " and 

 then as hastily dropping it, as though frightened at her own eager- 

 ness, she walked rapidly toward the camp, bearing with her the 

 skin, and leaving Mike standing by the boat, with his eyes fixed 

 on her receding figure. His stalwart frame was bent, and with the 

 breech of his rifle he ground a hole in the heavy sand. A dog, 

 one of the wandering curs from the camp, coming to the water's 

 edge, set up a doleful cry near him. 



" Shut up, thar, or I '11 send a ball after you, and let the bark 

 all out the wrong way ! " he said, and tossing his rifle in the hollow 

 of his arm, strode away down the bay. The words that he had 

 been pondering over, had remained all unspoken ; the robe that 

 he had taken, with leagues of walking and weeks of waiting, that 

 he had ornamented with all the taste of the woods, had only pro- 

 cured him a moment's gratitude, and the bold heart was frightened 

 into hesitation and silence by a young girl. 



The sun had gone down, the shadows lengthened on the long 

 sandy reaches ; it grew dark almost in a moment. Mike disap- 

 peared in the dusk, while from the knoll where the fires were 

 lighted Lou Jackson was watching the way he went, 



