A Memory of My Boyhood. 



39 



"bull. The animal was concealed from our 

 view by intervening bushes, but had doubt- 

 less been disturbed by the shots, and by 

 the time Saturday had advanced halfway 

 across the little paddock, the creature was 

 ready for business, and, with horns low- 

 ered and tail on end, advanced upon the 

 hunter, whom I had dutifully followed at 

 some little distance. The first intimation 

 of danger which I received came just as I 

 had succeeded in crossing a deep ditch, and 

 was a shout from Saturday, followed by the 

 hoarse bellow of the bull, and the crash of 

 the brushwood, as in full career the fierce 

 beast charged the boy. " Run ! run ! " was 

 the cry, and with a confused vision of horns 

 and tails and trampling hoofs before my 

 gaze, I turned to flee. There was a shock 

 — a thousand sparks shot across my eyes — 

 ind then — a blank. When I came to my- 

 self, my first impression was that Zed had 

 manfully faced the bull, and coolly shot 

 him down, while a portion of the charge 

 had lodged within my brain ; but I soon 

 realized that I was sitting upright in several 

 inches of muddy water, and then remem- 

 bered the ditch. 



Blinded by fear, I had plunged directly 

 into the drain, striking my head against the 

 opposite bank, and thus, perhaps, saved 

 myself from a fate worse than a drenching. 



Rising cautiously, I peei-ed through the 

 high, coarse grass, and saw Saturday (who 

 had managed, as he afterward said, "ter 

 git over the fence jist b' the skin of his 

 teeth"), looking through the rails at his 

 snorting and pawing enemy, and occasion- 

 ally casting rueful glances toward the old 

 musket, which he had dropped in his flight, 

 and which was lying several yards in the 

 rear of the bull. 



Saturday saw me peeping through the 

 grass, and shouted: " Don't ye tech to come 

 out o' that 'ere ditch. 'F the old bull sees 

 ye, there won't be so much as a dishrag left 

 on ye, naow I tell ye." 



Trembling with fear and cold, I awaited 



the result — for hours, as it seemed to me; 

 but the bull only grew more infuriate, as 

 Saturday pelted him with various missiles, 

 in the vain hope of driving him away. 



Zed had almost decided to swallow his 

 chagrin at the untoward occurrence, and go 

 to the village for assistance, well knowing 

 that he would be unmercifully laughed at 

 if he did do so, when a bright thought 

 flashed through his mind. "I swan," said 

 he, "I know haow to fix ye;" and procur- 

 ing a flat piece of bark, he once more un- 

 corked his bottle, and pouring upon the 

 bark a liberal allowance of powder, pro- 

 ceeded to make what was known among our 

 village pyrotechnists as a "spit-devil." 



Having moistened and stirred the pow- 

 der to a proper consistency, he produced 

 some matches, which he had brought for 

 the purpose of smoking out squirrels, and 

 placing the bark in the end of a split pole, 

 he set fire to the diabolical compound, and 

 as it began to flash and sputter, he pushed 

 jt through the fence directly into the face 

 of his antagonist. 



There was a bellow of surprise and fear, 

 and the great brute lowered his tail and 

 rushed toward the river, half blinded with 

 the sparks. Saturday fairly bounded over 

 the fence and dashed toward his gun. "Come 

 on," he shouted, "quicker 'n scat, 'fore he 

 gits back agin." 



Just how I managed to get out of the 

 ditch and over the fence, I never knew; but 

 we saw no more of the bull, and as I had 

 had quite enough of shooting for that day, 

 I soon presented myself at my mother's 

 side, in a sorely discomfited mood. 



Dry clothing and a hearty dinner soon set 

 me right, but my ardor in the pursuit of game 

 had received a check, for that day at least. 



Some other time I may tell you more of 

 my adventures with the birds, but just now 

 I will only say that since that eventful elec- 

 tion day I have never sought the life of a 

 catbird. Kelpie. 



Central Lake, Mich., Dec. 19, 1886. 



