218 GUN, EOD, AND SADDLE. 



no other than a painter (Anr/llch. puma) ; and as I 

 had oidy my old shigle-barrel loaded witli bird-sliot, 

 1 became justly scared. All of a tremble, I started for 

 home, and you may bet I made tracks. The very evi- 

 dence of the brute following me, showed lie was after 

 no good, and I was right; for as I drew near the out- 

 side edge of the swamp I saw liim riglit ahead; but I 

 went out of the way to avoid him, and after I left the 

 wood I heard him howl, doubtless in anger because 

 he had missed having me for suppei*. 



At the time I could not help tliinking that my 

 liost had been needlessly alarmed, and tohl him so, 

 when he informed me tliat notliing would liave in- 

 duced him to return alone — in fact, that he would 

 sooner have lost his traps than do so ; that a painter 

 in tliose regions, more especially in winter, was much 

 to be dreaded, and in corroboration informed me of a 

 little tragedy that occurred some years past in the 

 same neighborhood. Two friends once trapped tlie 

 toAvnship of Success. They had two beat s, running in 

 reverse directions, while tlie slianty in. winch they 

 both lived together was situated equally distant tV(^m 

 each. Tlie one who examined the traps to the noilh 

 to-day, visited those to the south to-morrow, chang- 

 ing their routes witli each other daily, and always 



