climbed up there and entered the sled as a last 
place of refuge and seemed to be busily licking 
his burns. There was hard.y enough of the 
animal’s head visible in the gloom over the scaf¬ 
folding to shoot at with certainty, and no one 
cared to climb up on the frail support that held 
the sled, but an odd experiment was hit upon 
to fetch bruin down from his refuge. 
Outside was the well where water was drawn 
by means of an old-fashioned sweep. That day 
the bucket had fallen off in the well. To hook 
it up a grapnel tied to a bed cord had been used. 
“Watch him close, boys,” said VanDuzen; “I 
know a way to git him out’n that thar sled.” 
He ran to the well, secured the grapnel and 
cord, and after one or two ineffectual throws 
succeeded in hooking to the sled. The long line 
enabled him to stand in the barn door. 
“New, Wat, and you, Harris, be ready to fire,” 
called the farmer, and gave the rope a vigorous 
pull, assisted by Ely and even grandpa. The 
bobsled and with it Br’er B’ar came lumbering 
down on the barn floor. 
“Shoot, boys!” yelled VanDuzen and grandpa. 
‘'Why in blazes don’t ye shoot? Shoot! 
Both rifle and big shotgun went off, one like 
a pistol crack, the other like a cannon. Then 
in the first thrill of excitement all hands ran 
cut and slammed the barn doors shut, barring 
I T was not very early, yet the sun had just 
risen above the mountains; our day in this 
narrow valley is shorter than in a level coun- 
:ry. My tramp to-day was to be along the ridge 
lying between the main road and the old road 
.ip Malone Hollow and over to South Williams- 
.own, in Massachusetts. The dew lay heavy 
on the grass and a walk through the meadows 
was almost like wading the brook. As I reached 
he sloping pasture a flock of crows rose from 
i dead tree and flew toward the mountain top, 
illing the air with their raucous cries. A hawk 
■prang from a nearby tree and lazily circled in 
he air. His wings were motionless, except as 
ie inclined them to keep his balance. The cir- 
:les grew narrower as he rose higher and 
ligher until he looked no larger than a pigeon, 
ind then, as if having found the right direc- 
ion, he moved off southward, still without a 
ving beat—an ideal aeroplane. 
Then came a hard climb up the mountainside, 
ty the time I had reached the edge of the 
woods the throbbing in my ears warned me that 
ny heart needed a rest. My lungs were being 
Ted to their utmost capacity with the purest 
ir. I saw a gray form running over the leaves 
n the distance, and it climbed an old oak tree 
nd disappeared among the branches. Forget- 
ln g my fatigue I climbed on and sat down near 
he old oak to rest and await the appearance 
f the squirrel. 
Lighting my pipe I leaned back against a 
tump and listened to the noises of the woods, 
he bluejays had seen me and were crying 
trough the trees that danger was near. The 
them tight. Listening, they heard considerable 
of a racket inside. Wat was nursing a sore 
shoulder where the overcharged gun had nearly 
kicked him over the sill. Cautiously Mr. Van¬ 
Duzen peeped inside. 
“Geemineddy!” he shouted. “Wat, you’ve set 
fire to the straw in the sled. Water!” 
To save the barn they were obliged to open 
the doors and rush in, bear or no bear. A bucket 
fetched by Mrs. VanDuzen extinguished the 
smoking straw ignited by the gun wadding. The 
bear lay to one side kicking more or less vigor¬ 
ously. 
“Give me that gun,” demanded VanDuzen 
promptly, and without more ado he thrust the 
muzzle of the unfired barrel close to the bear’s 
ear and pulled the trigger. With another tre¬ 
mendous roar the charge nearly blew the top 
of the creature’s head off and sent Mr. Van¬ 
Duzen to the floor in a sitting position. 
“I tell you what, folks,” said Grandpa Van¬ 
Duzen, after making sure that bruin was really 
dead, “I’ve hunted b’ar all my life, twel I got 
too old, but this kind of b’ar trailin’ is a new 
one on me.” 
Young Harris bargained rashly for the skin, 
while Mr. VanDuzen declared that the critter 
would balance the scales at over three hundred 
pounds—dressed. 
least noise in the valley came up with great 
distinctness. I heard the farmers’ voices urg¬ 
ing on the work teams and the shrill cries of 
children at play; the strokes of a hammer 
and the clatter of pans. The sunlight filtered 
through the trees, and with every breeze the 
leaves came rustling down. 
A beech tree was at my left and I heard the 
nuts falling and a rustling among the leaves. 
The end of one of the upper branches was 
bending downward, and I saw the leaves move. 
Surely it must be a squirrel, though I could not 
see him. I fired into the bunch of leaves and 
a gray squirrel, as large as a kitten, dropped 
to the ground with a thud. I pouched him, 
knocked the dead ashes from my pipe and began 
to circle the mountain in order to reach the top. 
The climb was long and hard and I helped 
myself along by grasping the second growth. 
Finally I struck a wood road and for a distance 
the way was easier. Reaching the top, I rested 
in a clearing and looked off to the hills on every 
side. The trees were a wealth of color, the 
distance adding to the beauty of the view. At 
the edge of the clearing in an old butternut tree 
I heard the nuts falling. A red squirrel scam¬ 
pered out on the slender branches, cutting off 
a winter store of food. Another was on the 
ground retrieving the nuts and many times he 
passed me with a large nut held by one end 
in his mouth on the way to the storehouse. 
Occasionally he paused in the work to chase 
away an intruder, for the nuts on that tree 
were the property of himself and mate. 
A crow passed over, cawing, alighted in a 
tall treetop just down the mountainside, and 
mingled wilh his familiar cry was a sound new 
to me. It resembled a short growl with a little 
roll in it, and I made a mental note to ask if 
others have heard it. 
Just beyond me on the other side of the but¬ 
ternut was a little rise covered with second 
growth. I heard a noise there among the 
leaves and saw two partridges pass along be¬ 
tween the trees, but the growth was so thick 
that I could only catch glimpses of them. Just 
over a little rise on my right I heard the leaves 
rustling, and thinking it was a gray squirrel, 1 
stole around, but the dead branches snapped 
under my feet and it seemed to me the leaves 
made a tremendous noise. As I drew near I 
heard a sound such as a hen might make 
scratching, and knew that a partridge was get¬ 
ting a late breakfast. I got near enough to see 
her rise with a roar and disappear among the 
tree trunks, some of the leaves rising in the air 
with her flight, but my gun came to my shoul¬ 
der too late, and I did not pull the trigger. 
As I stood looking I heard a fall on the 
leaves behind me and a thud on a nearby tree. 
A squirrel had jumped from a tree trunk to 
the ground and with another leap had landed 
four feet up on a tree. I turned my head and 
he stood motionless looking at me. His pose 
was admirable, and his eyes looked like b'ack 
beads. His tail was wholly gray, but his shoul¬ 
ders seemed reddish brown. I moved my body 
in order to be more at ease and he disappeared 
up the tree, going to the topmost branches 
and passing to another tree. Then I remem¬ 
bered that I had a gun and wondered why 1 
did not shoot. I saw the branches moving as 
the squirrel leaped from tree to tree, but the 
leaves were still too thick to permit more than 
the indication of his passage to be seen. Soon 
he reached the smaller trees and then came to 
the ground and ran away like a quarter horse. 
I walked along the backbone of the ridge until 
I found a clump of beech trees in which I 
knew the squirrels were working, and posting 
myself so that I could look down the mountain¬ 
side, seated myself and filled my pipe again. 
For some time I heard nothing, but soon the 
ground squirrels began to pipe and the reds 
were hunting among the leaves. I was seated 
at the foot of a large oak and some bluejays 
alighted in the tree and knocked off the acorns. 
Two ground squirrels came hastily down the 
trunk and one passed my shou’der. A red 
squirrel ran up an old maple nearby and was 
joined by a late brood of young. They ran 
out on the branches and came back to the larger 
limbs with maple seeds, to eat, play games of 
tag and chatter. A crow came cawing over¬ 
head, the mother squirrel gave a cry of warn¬ 
ing and the young ones disappeared, while the 
mother jumped to the underside of a large 
limb, listening intently. The crow calls died away 
in the distance and the fun was again resumed. 
The little woodpeckers flitted from tree to 
tree, tapping on the bark for grubs and insects. 
A flock of robins came through the woods, fly¬ 
ing from tree to tree, and among them were 
several flickers or highholes which seemed wel¬ 
come companions. I could see the red bar 
across their heads, but they all passed un¬ 
molested. A gray squirrel appeared in a high 
beech, apparently coming from nowhere, he 
made such a sudden appearance. I raised my 
A Day in the Woods 
By ROB SAUNDERSON 
