powder-horn, which he carried back to his hut, and left under Tiger's
protection, telling Dol that "if he wanted to bag any more black ducks
he'd have to give 'em a dose wid de rifle, for he warn't a-goin' to lug
dat ole fuzzee t'rough de woods."

It was the perfection of an October morning, sunshiny and pleasant, with
a mellow freshness in the air which matched the mellow tints of the
forest, when the travellers joined forces at the farm-settlement.

Engaged in the thrilling work of felling a pine-tree to extend his
father's clearing, they found the settler's son, a brawny fellow about
Cyrus's age, in buckskin leggings and coon-skin cap, who wielded his axe
with arms which were tough and knotted as pine limbs. He bawled to them
in the forceful language of the backwoods, which to unaccustomed ears
sounded a trifle barbaric, to keep out of the way until his tree had
fallen.

When the pine at last tumbled earthward with a thud which reverberated
for miles through the forest, he gave a mighty yell, waved his skin cap,
and came towards the visitors.

"Hulloa, Lin!" boomed the doctor, greeting this native as an old
acquaintance.

"Hello, Doc!" answered Lin. "By the great horn spoon! I didn't expect to
see you here. Who are these fellers?"

The doctor introduced his comrades. Lin greeted them with bluff
simplicity, and called them one and all by their Christian names as soon
as these could be found out. Doc alone came in for his short title--if