46 DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



monotony of the lonely prospector's life. There 

 was a rat from Lake Chelan with the head of a 

 ling in its mouth; there was a rat from Railroad 

 creek with a half plug of Battle Axe tobacco, 

 another from the Indian settlement with a bunch 

 of blue beads, a rat from the trapper's cabin, five 

 miles over the mountains, with a Canadian half 

 dollar, eager for trade. 



Rap, rap, rap! went their front feet on the 

 loose clapboard over the prospector's bunk, but 

 the tired man only mumbled in his sleep and turned 

 over in bed. Rattle-te-bang went a powder can 

 from the rafters to the floor, awakening the 

 sleeper, who reached for his revolver, but seeing 

 nothing, turned to sleep again. 



Next morning there w r as plenty to see fish 

 heads, chips, bones and pine cones, etc., in place 

 of his knife, fork, spoon and tin cup which he 

 had left on his rude table; but worst of all was the 

 sight of the battered oil can in which he had 

 packed his cartridges. No ammunition was now 

 visible, but in its place was 



A CAN OF DIRTY LOOKING PEBBLES. 



The angry man kicked over the can and as he 

 did so made use of very many uncomplimentary 

 remarks concerning rats. 



With petulant rage, he viciously struck the of- 

 fending objects with his prospector's pick. As the 

 pebbles flew from the blow the man's expression 

 suddenly changed; he dropped the pick, and for 



