"I'm going to try and bark him," remarked Nick, cocking his rifle and
sighting at the little animal.

Before he could make his aim sure, the chickaree started to run along
the limb, which was large and covered with thick, shaggy bark; but the
muzzle of the weapon swerved slowly in a corresponding direction, and
just as the game gathered itself to make a leap, the explosion came.

The others, who were watching the squirrel to note the result, saw
several pieces of bark suddenly fly upward with such force that the
rodent was hurled fully a foot above the limb, dropping like a wet rag
at the feet of the lad, killed, without its skin being broken.

"That was a good shot!" exclaimed Sam Harper admiringly; "no hunter in
the land could have barked him better than did you."

"What do you mean by barking a squirrel?" asked Herbert, who had never
seen anything of the kind before.

"It is easy enough; all you have to do is to cut the bark right under
the squirrel's body, so that the pieces fly upward with such force as to
knock the life from him."

"That's the way I'm going to kill them after this."

"It is best to practice hitting them with the ball first," Nick
suggested.

Herbert solemnly removed the shell of the cartridge from his
breech-loader and replaced it with a fresh one, pretending not to hear