380 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[September, 
A PICNIC PARTY ON BEAR HILL .—Drawn and Engraved for the American Agriculturist. 
disappeared many years ago, although' old hunters still 
occasionally told stories of having seen the tracks of 
bears and foxes in that vicinity. But these tales were 
not generally believed, and Long Pond, a clear mountain 
lake on the summit of the hill, was a favorite fishing 
place for the boys of the village. There, too, blackber¬ 
ries grew in the greatest profusion, seeming larger and 
sweeter than anywhere else. Summer now reigned here 
supreme, and the sparrows and catbirds opened their 
eyes in amazement, this fair August morning, when 
Dave’s laughing, singing, chattering crew drove up to 
the lonely spot, and in less time than it takes to tell, 
boys were climbing up to the tops of the tallest trees, 
boys were swinging on the limbs, extending far over 
the pond. An old boat at the water's edge was taken 
possession of by eager young fishermen; a hastily con¬ 
structed swing sent happy lads and lassies flying through 
the air, while the older girls built a fire of dry brush, on 
which to boil the kettle, and Dave was glad to stretch 
himself out on the soft grass for a mid-day nap. 
Nat baited the hook for Nellie Brown, and helped her 
catch enough perch and sun-fish to make a nice panful 
for dinner, while Rose and her companions stripped the 
bushes of their luscious fruit, to add to the woodland 
feast. And when the signal horn awakened the echoes, 
and summoned the party to the rural meal, what keen 
appetites they all brought with them ! and how like a 
little sylvan goddess Dolly looked, crowned with oak 
leaves, seated at the head of the board. The ants crept 
into the bread, and the grasshoppers hopped on the but¬ 
ter, but they only seemed to add zest to the good things, 
if one may judge by the simple jokes and merry laughs 
that resounded on all sides. 
“I saw a great big, black dog,” remarked Dolly, sud¬ 
denly, pausing with a cup of milk in one hand and a 
chicken bone in the other.—“ Nonsense, child,” said 
Rose, “ there are no dogs in this wild place. You must 
have been asleep, and dreaming of Rover.” 
“He was bigger than Rover,” said Dolly, “and I shall 
give him my doughnut,” at the same time pocketing one 
of her mother’s nice cakes. The children all laughed at 
what they called “Dolly’s fancy,” but just then Dave 
shouted, “ Dinner is over, and time to start to blackber- 
rying. All the children may scatter in different direc¬ 
tions, and see who will pick most by nightfall.” 
Nothing loth, the children did as they were bid, and 
pails and baskets were soon heaped with the shining 
fruit, which all knew meant berry pies and puddings 
throughout the long cold winter. At first Dolly kept 
close beside Rose, trying hard to help, but the brambles 
pricked her fingers, and at last she stopped to pluck 
some daisies, singing to herself a gay little sqpg; and 
Rose, who was interested in filling her basket before 
Ethel Linn, forgot her little sister, and when she finally 
remembered, the child was nowhere to be seen. “ She 
has probably gone off with Nat,” thought Rose, and 
continued adding to her store until the horn warned 
them that it was time to turn their faces homeward. 
On reaching the rendezvous, her first words were, 
“Nat, where is Dolly?”—“I have not seen her since 
lunch,” replied her brother, “ I thought she followed 
you.”—“Then she is lost 1” exclaimed Rose, in agony, 
and all the children cried, “Oh I oh! oh!” like a Greek 
chorus.—“ She can't be far off,” said Dave, reassuringly, 
“ but we must start immediately in pursuit.” 
Old and young, up and down they went, shouting, 
but no response. The shadows were lengthening on the 
hills, the weary birds were piping a sleepy “good-night” 
to the flowers before tucking their tired heads under 
their wings, and still no sign of the missing Dolly. 
“What shall I do?” cried poor Rose. “I can never 
go home and tell mother.” And as Dolly’s sweet little 
face, in its blue sun-bonnet, rose in memory before 
her, she threw herself on the ground and buried her 
face in the deep carpet of soft, green moss. 
“ Let us try once more,” said Dave, who also began to 
look worried; and he and Nat, accompanied by some of 
the young men, started on a new trail, shouting at the 
extent of their healthy, lusty lungs. “ Hark l” ex¬ 
claimed Nat, at last, “I thought I heard a call.’’—“And I 
see something blue behind those trees, ’ said one of ihe 
lads.—They listened, and in a moment more heard dis¬ 
tinctly a sweet voice crying, “Natty, Natty, here I is. ’ 
Away they all sped towards a green hollow, from 
whence the tones seemed to come, but stopped short at 
the sight that met their astonished eyes, for there sat 
the wee runaway, her soft flaxen hair blowing about her 
face, a great bunch of yellow-eyed daisies in her lap, 
and by her side a large black bear, calmly finishing the 
berries in her little tin pail. The animal growled as 
they approached, and showed a row of white teeth, but 
Dolly patted his head confidingly, saying, “ Come and 
see my nice picnic doggie. He eated my doughnut, and 
then he eated all my berries.” 
“Oh, Nat, call her quick!” exclaimed Dave, bravely, 
and as the boy held out his arms, Dolly came dancing 
towards him. An instant later, a loud report sounded 
from Dave’s gun. With a wild shriek. Bruin bounded y 
into the air, and then lay quite still, and Dolly screamed, 
“You naughty Dave, to kill my dear black doggie.” 
The rest of the party, sitting sadly on the shore of 
Long Pond, heard the report, but the feelings of Rose 
can better be imagined than described when Nat re¬ 
turned, bearing Dolly m triumph, with the others in his 
train, dragging after them the berry-loving bear which 
they always supposed must have come down from the 
neighboring mountain in search of his favorite fruit. 
The stars were twinkling in the summer sky when 
they reached home, and Mrs. May heard from the peni¬ 
tent Rose of her little daughter’s marvellous escape. 
She refrained from blaming Rose too severely, but as 
she kissed the baby lips, her heart was overflowing with 
thankfulness, that Dolly would never go blackberry- 
ing again on Bear Hill with the “dear black doggie." 
