But Nick had practiced with this piece only a few weeks, when his
ambition was turned in another direction by a large, strong boy, who
hired himself out upon the farm of Mr. Marston. He was sixteen years of
age, and was named Sam Harper. His father had been a soldier in the late
war, and gave to Sam a fine breech-loading rifle, which he brought with
him when he hired out to Mr. Marston.

The lad had owned it two years, and, under the tutelage of his father,
who was wounded and living upon a pension, he became very skillful for
one of his age.

Beside this, Mr. Marston himself, as I have shown, was fond of hunting
in his early manhood, and was the owner of an excellent muzzle-loading
rifle, which was as good as when his keen eye glanced along the brown
barrel and the bullet was buried in the unsuspicious deer, so far away
as to be scarcely visible to the ordinary vision.

"If you and Sam want to hunt the bear," said the kind owner, "you are
welcome to my rifle, for you know a shot-gun ain't exactly the thing to
go hunting bears with."

"That's just what I want it for," said Nick, with sparkling eyes.




CHAPTER XIII.

THE BEAR HUNTERS.