"I ain't sure he won't die of old age as it is," said Nick, with a
laugh; "for every one who went after him came back without the first
glimpse. I guess they have all given up hope of shooting him, and I
shouldn't wonder if we had to do the same."

But whether such was to be the result or not remained to be seen, and
the boys were sure of plenty of sport in an all-day ramble through the
woods.

During all this time Nick and Nellie were attending school, and they
maintained their places in their studies, and were surpassed by none in
the excellence of their deportment.

Nick rose early and helped his father with his work, and at night did
his chores. With all this, he found opportunity to practice with the
rifle and to prepare his lessons for the morrow, so that it need not be
said he had little idle time on his hands.

On a bright Saturday morning in November, when the smoky haze of the
delicious Indian summer overspread forest, stream, and country, Sam
Harper came to the house of Nick Ribsam according to appointment.

His rifle was slung over his shoulder, and the dog, which they had
christened Bowser, was at his heels. There was no school that day, and
Mr. Ribsam, having satisfied himself of the ability of Nick to handle
the rifle of his neighbor, had given him permission to go on a hunt for
the bear which had so frightened Nellie a couple of months before.

The mother and daughter were a little anxious when the rosy-cheeked boy
donned his heavy boots, pushed his trousers down the legs, and taking