WITH THE WINTER BIRDS. 251 



he did afore. He sort o' grinned, with his mouth 

 wide open, and there was my hooks and bits o' lines 

 hung round his chops like an old man's beard." 



"Why didn't you shoot him?" I asked. 



" Hadn't no gun with me for one thing, and 

 wouldn't 'a' dared anyway. Why, lad, he's bullet- 

 proof, 'course, and no man in his senses is goin' to 

 monkey with King Tortle, if he knows it," and old 

 Thornbush gave me a look of mingled contempt 

 and scorn for asking such a silly question. 



I did not realize at the time the force of the con- 

 viction in the old man's mind as to what he had been 

 saying, and most untimely, therefore, was my further 

 remark : " Do you really expect me to believe all 

 that?" 



Old Thornbush's eyes showed all the fire that was 

 in them. He looked like the big turtle he had de- 

 scribed, and fairly thundered, " B'lieve it or not, as 

 you choose ! But do you s'pose I've lived here 

 all my life and hunted for fifty years and don't know 

 what I'm a-talkin' about? If you don't b'lieve it, 

 go tortlin' on your own hook and find out, and I bet 

 you don't point no gun at King Tortle, if he shows 

 up. Why, boy, don't you know that tortle purty 

 nigh killed my daddy?" 



I saw that the man was all in earnest. With him 

 it was no mere yarn to please children, and I made 

 amends as best I could. I mumbled a mollifying 

 apology and the clouds passed from Thornbush's 

 brow. 



It looked like a return to glacial times as I gazed 



