front of him that moment, scampered up a hickory and perched itself near
the top, where it offered the best chance for a shot that one could
wish.

"Now I'll see what I can do," muttered Herbert, sighting at the saucy
little fellow, who seemed to be ridiculing his purpose of reaching it
with a bullet at such a height.

The young hunter aimed with great care, pressed the trigger, and, as the
sharp report rang through the woods, the squirrel came tumbling to the
ground, with its skull shattered.

Herbert Watrous was surprised and delighted, scarcely believing in his
own success. He picked up the slain rodent and saw that its destruction
had been caused by the bullet he fired.

"That's business," he exclaimed, with a thrill of pride; "but why
couldn't I shoot that way when Nick and Sam were looking at me? I know
how the thing is done now, and when we get together I'll give them some
lessons in marksmanship."

He left the squirrel on the ground, but had not gone far when a new idea
struck him and he came back, picked it up, and put it in his game-bag.

"If I show them a squirrel, they can't help believing that I shot him."

The serious question which Herbert had been discussing with himself,
ever since being alone, was what he would do if he should happen to come
upon the bear. He had not quite so much confidence in his gun as he had
when he started out, though the shooting of the squirrel brought back