CHAPTER II.

An Ugly Customer.


Directly behind the cottage stands a long, low, neatly constructed
building, which is divided by partitions into three rooms, of which
one is used as a wood-shed, another for a carpenter's shop, and the
third is what Frank calls his "museum." It contains stuffed birds and
animals, souvenirs of many a well-contested fight. Let us go and
examine them. About the middle of the building is the door which leads
into the museum, and, as you enter, the first object that catches your
eye is a large wild-cat, crouched on a stand which is elevated about
four feet above the floor, his back arched, every hair in his body
sticking toward his head, his mouth open, displaying a frightful array
of teeth, his ears laid back close to his head, and his sharp claws
spread out, presenting altogether a savage appearance; and you are
glad that you see him dead and stuffed, and not alive and running at
liberty in the forest in the full possession of strength. But the
young naturalist once stood face to face with this ugly customer under
very different circumstances.

About forty miles north of Lawrence lives an old man named Joseph
Lewis. He owns about five hundred acres of land, and in summer he
"farms it" very industriously; but as soon as the trapping season
approaches he leaves his property to the care of his hired men, and