The First Gun 



which there was the black mouth of the open trapdoor 

 overhead yawning fearfully — a standing terror and 

 temptation ; for there was a legend of a pair of pistols 

 thrown up there out of the way— a treasure-trove tempt- 

 ing enough to make us face anything. But Orion must 

 have the credit of the courage ; I call him Orion 

 because he was a hunter and had a famous dog. The 

 last I heard of him he had just ridden through a prairie 

 fire, and says the people out there think nothing of it. 



We dragged an ancient linen-press under the trap- 

 door, and put some boxes on that, and finally a 

 straisfht-backed oaken chair. One or two of those 

 chairs \vere split up and helped to do the roasting on 

 the kitchen hearth. So, climbing the pile, we emerged 

 under the rafters, and could see daylight faintly in 

 several places coming through the starlings' holes. 

 One or two bats fluttered to and fro as we groped 

 among the lumber, but no pistols could be discovered ; 

 nothing but a cannon-ball, rusty enough and about 

 as big as an orange, which they say was found in the 

 wood, where there was a brush in Oliver's time. 



In the middle of our expedition there came the 

 well-known whistle, echoing about the chimneys, with 

 which it was the custom to recall us to dinner. How 

 else could you make people hear who might be cutting 

 a knobbed stick in the copse half a mile away or 



