48B 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Dec. i6, 1890. 
Sam's Boy. 
Ill —A Visit lo Gran'ther Hill. 
One morning an air of mystery pervaded- th^e" Level 
homestead. The mistress was not visible, but some neigh- 
borly women appeared to have usurped her place. Mrs. 
Punngton was there with Maria Hill, and Mrs. Briggs, 
obeying her orders as she gave them out from her rock- 
ing chair, all officious and domineering, as it seemed to 
Sammy, while the men of the household were correspond- 
ingl}' meek and subdued. 
Dr. Root, the Thompsonian practitioner, was present, 
superintending the steeping of herbs on the stove, and his 
horse was put in the stable as if the period of his stay 
was indetinite. Breakfast was served and eaten with 
dispatch, as if it were quite a secondary affair, and then 
Uncle Lisha invited Sammy to go with him to Joseph 
Hill's, and the pair trudged away well content to be in 
each other's company, away from home with its un- 
pleasant preponderance of femininity. 
"What's gran'ma an' all them women tu aour house 
for, Unc' Lisher?" Sammy asked after much silent poii- 
dering of the problem. 
"Oh, I guess they come tu visit along wi' the darkter," 
Lisha answered. 
"An' wha' d' he come for ?" 
"1 da' say tu visit along wi' them," Uncle Lisha 
answered, hoping there might be an end of questions. 
"We'll go on an' see Gran'ther Hill; he's older'n any hill 
raound here — older'n Tater Hill, fur's I know, an' he 
know^s more stories'n the ' 'Rabian Nights' tells on. Meb- 
by he'll tell us some on 'em, 'baout Ticonderoge an' Ben- 
nin't'n, like 'nough, an' Injitns. an' wolves, an' I do' know 
what all." 
"What was Ti — Ticon-dero — I do' know haow you 
say it?" 
" 'Derogy — Oh, that's a fort him an' another man took 
away from the British in ol' times." 
They found the veteran sitting outside the kitchen 
door, shooing away the chickens with frequent flourishes 
of his staff, sometimes getting the end under some 
gawkj^, long-legged, too-adventurous cockerall and toss- 
ing the unsuspecting fowl in the air. 
"Jozeff's w-omern is bediviled arter chickens !" he re- 
marked to the visitors after a successful toss. "An' I'd 
rather hev the devil raound me — the idgets!" 
''Pooty middlin' good they be stewed or friggseed," 
said Uncle Lisha. 
"I'd livser hev a pa'tridge," said Gran'ther Hill. 
"Yes, but them ye can't git ary minute you take a 
notion," Lisha remarked. 
"Mebby you can't; but me an' that 'ere boy can, an' 
we'll show ye some day, won't us. Bub?" 
Sammy modestly assented. 
"But ye can't go aout an' find a pa'tridge nest any 
time." 
"Wal, oncte I faound a pa'tridge nest just at the right 
minute." 
"An' haow was that, Cap'n Hill?" 
"I was a-scaoutin' clust tu the inemy, wi' not a maou'- 
ful t'eat in my knapsack, ao' afeared tu shoot on account 
o' showin' where I was. I "tell ye, it was all-killin' tough 
tu see a pa'tridge struttin' along ahead on ye, or a rabbit 
a-skippin' away, or a deer get up an' stretch hisself when 
yer stomach was a-cryin' cupboard so you was ready tu 
eat yer moccasin strings, an' you da's' n't shoot. Oncte 
a deer got up that way, an' I see an Injin rise up from 
behind a lawg not ten rod off, an' p'int his gun at him, an' 
a-lookin' mighty hungry an' wishful. But he da's'n't 
shoot no more 'n me, an' by an' by went a-sneekin' off 
a-huntin' sech game as me, an' me a-hankerin' for his 
scalp, 
"When all tu oncte a pa'tridge scooted aout from most 
under my foot, an' there lay a dozen white aigs. I jest 
dropped daown aside on 'em an' gobbled 'em. I do' know 
but the' was young birds in 'em as big as bumble bees. I 
didn't stop tu ask no questions, an' I never eat a better 
meal. The next thing I hed t' eat was a han'ful o' no- 
cake aouten a dead Injin's bag." 
"'Taint good tu hev no-cake, is't, Unc' Lisher?" 
Sammy asked with round wistful eyes on the grim, gaunt 
old story-teller. 
"It's paounded popcorn he means, an' leetle boys likes 
that." 
While Uncle Lisha was speaking, the old man hobbled 
to a cupboard across the room, reached his hand into 
an earthen jar, and brought back two heart-shaped seed 
cookies. 
"There, Sammy, see if them ain't better'n no-cake." 
"I b'lieve I've hearn tell haow you was tu Ticonderoge, 
Cap'n Hill?" Uncle Lisha delicately suggested. 
"Me! Wal, I rather guess I was; the secont man in- 
side arter Ol' Ethan an' that Beeman boy. By the Lord 
Harry! It allers tickled me for tu hear tell what Ethan 
-said when he met the Cap'n. He. writ a book a-tellin' 
on't, haow he demanded the fort, 'In the name o' the 
Gr't Jehover an' the Continental Congress,' an' haow he 
talked tu us arter we landed. Says he, 'Boys, it'll be day- 
light afore them lazy bones gits here, an' aour cake'll 
all be dough. You that's for goin' ahead, p'ise your fire- 
locks, an' don't ye du it if you're a lot 0' dammed caow- 
ards' ; an' when he come tu the Cap'n's quarters he says. 
.>ays he. 'Come aout o' yer hole, you dammed ol' skunk, or 
by the' Gre't Jehover I'll let daylight through yer,' 
Them's the words he said ! He didn't stop for tu make no 
Fourth of July speech." | 
"Did he ever know any wolves, real ones, Unc' 
Lisher?" the young listener whispered, covertly, yet over- 
heard. 
"Law, yes, no eend on 'em. Why, hi? act'ally shot the 
last wolf 'at ever come tu Danvis!" 
"Was it wolves he was a-askin'?" Gran'ther Hill de- 
manded. "Lord Harry, I guess you'd 'a' thought so when 
I fust f pme tu Danvis. It was 0000 ! here an' 0000 ! there 
as soon as ever night come, till they'd killed off all the 
deer, an' y,GU might as well try for tu keep chickens in a 
wea.«el hpk as tlJ keep a sheep anywher's! But they got, 
f,r3ppfd an' h««pM of arter ^ spell. \\\] tlie' w^'n'f fjcm? 
left here 'ceptin' one dl' she, 'at kep' up on Tater Hill. 
She raised a litter reg'lar, an' every night daown she'd 
come off'n the maountain an' crost the river an' git her 
belly full o' mutton, an' take it back tu her whelps, an' 
the' couldn't nob'dy git a sight on her nor ketch her, she 
was that cunnin'. So one day I took me a trap on my 
shoulder, an' I took tu the river a-wadin' along, till by'm 
by I faound a path where the ol' rip come daown for tu 
cross, an' there I sot my trap wi' a sod on the pan abaout 
a step from the shore, an' next morning' it was gone, 
bob an' sinker, an' I follered up the trail an' faoun' the 
ol' varmint lookin' 'shamed enough. When I'd killed 
her an'^ skun her, I follered up the path an' faoun' the 
den, an' the next thing was for tu git the cubs. 
"When I reckoned they'd got hungry 'nough tu be 
kerless I baited a hook wi' mutton, an' vi/hen they'd g^ab 
it I'd yank 'em aout, till I got three. I allers cal'lated 
there was one more, an' I 'spect the ol' he, he raised him, 
an' he come back arter a spell, an' was the one I killed 
tew year ago. I'll take ye up there an' show ye the 
place some day, Bub, when you git big enough tu go 
huntin'. Y ou'll take tu it, I know by the way ye tousled 
that fox skin 'fore ye could walk. He'd make a boy if 
1 hed the raisin' on him, an' it warn't for his hevin' sech 
a gran'marm." 
"It's ruther late for him to help Ikat, Cap'n Hill," said 
Uncle Lisha. 
"I spusso," the veteran reluctantly assented. "But the 
ol' critter might die off. I wonder if I can't find him 
some o' Marl's sweet-flag candy. That 'ere's fust chop 
for leetle boys, if aour Bub an' amongst 'em hain't eat it 
all up." 
"Wolves!" Gran'ther Hill mused as he bestowed a 
handful of sliced calamus root candied in maple sugar 
upon his }'outhful guest. "Lord Harry, Lisher! Don't 
you remember what a hullaballoo the' was over what's- 
GOVERNOE. 
his-name a-bein' eat up by wolves in liis sugar camp? 
There was his bones — sheep's bones they was, an' I 
wonder the critter hed sense enough tu take httffs off, an' 
the snow all trampled up by the wolves— every identical 
track made wi' a right forepaw! An' his women hed a 
fun'ral over them bones, an' buried 'em an' put up a 
gravestun: 'He is not dead, but sleepeth!' Sure 'nough, 
so he was, way aout in York State! It wa'n't much that 
way with Jim Walker an' Ike Warner, which I s'pose 
you've heered on time an' ag'in; but Bub here never did. 
"They was a-comin' from a loggin' bee arter dark an' 
there was a mess o' wolves took arter 'em. Jim an' Ike 
hed both ben arter the same gal, nip an' tuck, for a year, 
but Ike got the whip hand an' got the gal. Jim didn't lay 
it up ag'in Ike none, but was jes' as good friends as ever, 
an' thought just as much of Phebe. Wal, the wolves 
kep' a-gittin' sassier an' they hedn't ary gun, an' the 
darker it got the cluster the wolves come an' it begun tu 
look mighty ser'ous. an' they kep' a hus'lin' an' a-lookin' 
for a tree they could climb, but it 'peared as if the very 
woods was ag'in 'em, an' every tree a-swellin' up bigger'n 
a man could hug, an' a-holdin' up its branches 10 foot 
higher 'n ever. They got tu runnin' at last, an' Ike, he 
was the shortest winded an' shortest laiged, but Jim 
. never left him behind, an' kep' a-encouragin' on him, 
artellin' on him 'baout Phebe an' the baby. Bye-m-bye 
Jim. faced about an' ketched Ike by the hand. 'Good-bye,' 
says he. 'an' now run for your life whilst I hold 'em a 
spell.' Ike run on, a-lookin' back over his sljoulder naow 
an' agin, an' there stood Jim steddy as a rock, wi' his 
club xrp an' ready. 
"At fust the wolves stood off kinder shy — then they 
come a-jumpin' an' a-snappin', an' daown come the club 
like a flail, a-lyin' aout a wolf 'baout every time. But 
the last time he looked the' wa'n't no Jim — only a black 
swarm a-surgin' back an' tew on the graound in the 
dusk, an' that was the last he seen. Ike never wanted tu 
talk much 'baout that, but he done more 'n any other ten 
men tu clean the wolves aouten this country. He trapped 
'em an' he p'isened 'em, an' if the' was a wolf hunt within 
twenty mild he was in it. 
"One day he went a-huntin' an' never come back, an' 
we rallied aout tu s'arch for him. I was the fust one 
come on tu him. a-layin' on his back wi' a big painter 
atop on him. The wind was a-blowin' strong an' the 
critter's tail was a wavin' in 't as nat'ral as life — ^je.st that 
ugly twhch cat critters hes when they're settin' their teeth 
into their game, an' I up wi' my gun an' gin it tu him 
Y?teraq sighe4. ffisti'n^- s, regretful gUncf; upon th? 
broad sweep of forest that stooped from the lofty^moun- 
tain crests to the narrow level of cleared land. ' "The' 
hain't nothin' in 'em naow bigger 'n a fox, nor dan- 
g'rouser 'n a coon — 'ceptin' naow an' ag'in a bear." 
To the little boy they looked as illimitable as the ski? 
and as full of mystery, and why not full of such tragedies; 
as this he had just heard? Some day, when he grew tew 
be a man — not so old as Gran'ther Hill nor so fat as; 
Uncle Lisha, for these he could not be, but something: 
like that paragon of men, his father — that wonderful, 
realm of shade and strange sounds would be open to hirrt 
as it was now to them, and then what sights he would 
see and be a teller of tales to little boys. So with far- 
aAvay gaze where the cloud shadows swept across the 
green root of the woods, he dreamed the unspeakable 
dreams of childhood — the dreams that are realities never 
needing to come truer — ^while the two old men droned 
on of common affairs not worth being true. 
By and by Ruby had a dinner ready for them concern- 
ing which she was nervously anxious, it being her first 
attempt to accomplish such a feat alone. But it was alii 
that could be desired by a company blessed with siich ap- 
petites. The potatoes were puffs of meal; the dandelion 
greens were tender; the pork boiled to just the right de- 
gree, and the Indian pudding was as good as her 
mother's. She could not ask for greater praise than her 
grandfather gave her when he said: 
"I'm almighty glad they named you Ruby arter your 
gran'mother !" . 
In the afternoon the youngsters played "Injun and 
hunted wolves, and when the cows were coniing hoine 
lowing for their imprisoned calves. Uncle Lisha again 
bent his waxy forefinger to the clasp of Sammy's chmbby 
palm and the pair wended their way homeward. 
roavland e. rorikson. 
[to be continued next week.] 
In Old Virginia.-V, 
I HEARD my good friend Aunt Ellen indulging in a 
lengtliy and indignant protest, one morning, and bavmg 
nothing important on hand at the time, strolled around 
to gather its import. . 
1 found her in the back yard delivermg a violent 
philippic in the general direction of a patch of tunbcr,. 
but Its object was not in sight. 
Drawing near I heard: "Yo' nasty ole robbah. , 
stealin' ole raskel. If evah I do git my ban' on yo , 1 11 
twis' y o' ole head off an' feed yo' to de hawgs. Yo mean 
ole speckled flyin' pirate, yo'." 
"What is it, Aunt Ellen?" I asked. ' 
"Hawk, sub," she replied, shaking her fist m the direc- 
tion of the woods. "Hen hawk, suh, an' he des carried 
off de bes' pullet I had, right from befo' de doah, an' nje 
holl'n' des loud as I kin to mek him drop hit. De 
audashus ole re-probate. 
"Dey is de meanes' varmints dat runs, crawls or Jlies, 
an' I 'spise 'em wus' dan pizen. 
"He been comin' mos' ev'y day, an' always git a 
chickun, an' a good fat one, too. I ain' goin' have no mse 
chickun lef fob Mis' Lady to eat ef he doan quit hit." 
fust then a thought occurred to her, and turning, she 
said: "Can vo' git yo' gun an' kill him fo' me, suh?^^ I 
sho' would be 'bleeged to yo', an' so would Mis' Lady. 
Questioning her at length as to the hawk's Ime oi re- 
treat, and gathering all possible information as to his 
probable haunt in the woods, I promised to do my best, 
and a few moments later entered the woods where he 
was supposed to be, armed with my i6-gauge, loaded with 
chilled sixes, and followed by the faithful companion ot 
all my hunts, the small boy Gov'nah. 
Slipping along through the thick woods we worked 
back and forth several times before starting anything., 
and then flushed the object of our search from a thick 
pine, but did not get a shot. Taking his direction and 
traveling slowly and cautiously, we finally started him 
again. It was a long, hard shot, but at the first barrel he 
faltered, and at the second fell down through the trees a 
good 50 yards from where I stood. 
Governor made for him, and before I could call out a 
warning to be careful, had pounced down on the hawk, 
as he had learned to do on the quail he had been retrieving 
for me. There was a quick thrashing of wings and an 
involuntary cry of pain from the boy, and the. first round 
ended decidedly in favor of the winged, but game, bird. 
Snatching up a convenient stick, the boy rushed in again, 
and with a well-directed blow across the neck knocked all 
of the fight out of the pugnacious chicken stealer. 
Proudly bearing the enemy, and trying to conceal the 
pain caused by a badly lacerated hand, the boy returned 
to wherp I stood. 
"You got him, did you. Governor?" I asked. 
"Yaas, suh." Short and sharp as usual. 
"What is the matter with your hand?" 
"He bit me, suh." 
"Bit you," said I, noting the long. Ugly scratches that 
were bleeding freely. "How?" 
"Wid his foot, suh," was the reply. 
Bandaging up the wounded hand, without a word of 
complaint from the little hero, we returned to the house, 
where the boy had the proud satisfaction of displaying 
his trophy first to Miss Lady, who commended him, and 
then to Atmt Ellen, who almost overwhelmed him with 
loud praise. 
"Dat's him. Dat's de very ole scound'el. I knows him 
des es well as if I see my chickun in his insides. Dat sho 
is good dat you got him, boy." 
And then noting the bandaged hand : "Did he hu't yo' ? 
Bityo'? He did? Dc ole rask'I. Bring him hcah, honey, 
'til i take an' pull his he'd off des like I say T would, an' 
den we will des feed him to de hawgs des like what he 
deserves." 
This incident reminded my hostess of a very unusual 
accident that had ended the career of a large predatory 
owl the season before, which she thus narrated: 
The owl had been visiting the chickens every few 
nights, and finally one night tried to make off with a large 
hen. In attempting to fly over a high picket fence around 
the yard, a struggle of the chicken, or a miscalculation, 
caused him to drop down on the top of the pickets, and 
happening to get turned jtist right, he slipped down be- 
tween two pickets with his big head on one side, and 
his body on, the other, being Unable to pull loose, or 
^york back up tlie way h^", got |f|, jifurig there until [lex^ 
