My Boyhood and Youth 



with a long spear, going from one muskrat 

 cabin to another, approaching cautiously, care- 

 ful to make no noise, and then suddenly thrust- 

 ing his spear down through the house. If well 

 aimed, the spear went through the poor beaver 

 rat as it lay cuddled up in the snug nest it had 

 made for itself in the fall with so much far- 

 seeing care, and when the hunter felt the spear 

 quivering, he dug down the mossy hut with his 

 tomahawk and secured his prey, — the flesh for 

 food, and the skin to sell for a dime or so. This 

 was a clear object lesson on dogs' keenness of 

 scent. That Indian was more than half a mile 

 away across a wooded ridge. Had the hunter 

 been a white man, I suppose Watch would not 

 have noticed him. 



When he was about six or seven years old, he 

 not only became cross, so that he would do only 

 what he liked, but he fell on evil ways, and 

 was accused by the neighbors who had settled 

 around us of catching and devouring whole 

 broods of chickens, some of them only a day 

 or two out of the shell. We never imagined he 

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