ONCE MORE IN THE WOODS.
"Harry," said Kate, the next day after this meeting, "when are you going
to get your gun back?"
"Get my gun back!" exclaimed Harry. "How am I to do that?"
"Why, there's money enough," answered Kate. "You only lent your
gun-money to Aunt Matilda's fund. Take out enough, and get your gun
back."
"That sounds very well," said Harry; "but we haven't so much money,
after all. The interest on what we have won't begin to support Aunt
Matilda, and we really ought not to break in on the principal."
Kate did not immediately answer. She thought for a while and then she
said:
"Well, that's what I call talking nonsense. You must have heard some one
say something like that. You never got it out of your own head."
"It may not have come out of my own head," said Harry, who had not told
Kate of his meeting with George Purvis, "but it is true, for all that.
It seems to me that whatever we do seems all right at first, and then
fizzles out. This telegraph business has done that, straight along."
"No, it hasn't," said Kate, with some warmth. "It's turned out
first-rate. I think that interest idea is all stuff. As if we wanted to
set up Aunt Matilda with an income that would last forever! Here comes
father. I'm going to ask him about the gun."
When Mr. Loudon had had the matter laid before him, he expressed his
opinion without any hesitation.
"I think, Harry," said he, "that you certainly ought to go and get your
gun."
And Harry went and got it.
The rest of that day, which was Saturday, was delightful, both to Harry
and Kate. Harry cleaned and polished up his gun, and Kate sat and
watched him. It seemed like old times. During those telegraphic days,
when they were all thinking of business and making money, they seemed to
have grown old.
But all that was over now, and they were a girl and a boy again. Late in
the afternoon, Harry went out and shot half-a-dozen partridges, which
were cooked for supper, and Mrs. Loudon said that that seemed like the
good old style of things. She had feared that they were never going to
have any more game on their table.
On the following Wednesday there was a half-holiday, and Harry was about
to start off with his gun, when he proposed that Kate should go with
him.
"But you're going after birds," said Kate, "and I can't go where you'll
want to go--among the stubble and bushes."
"Oh! I sha'n't go much after birds," said Harry. "I wanted to borrow
Captain Caseby's dog, but he's going to use him himself to-day, and so I
don't expect to get much game. But we can have a good walk in the
woods."
"All right," said Kate. "I'll go along." And away she went for her hat.
The walk was charming. It was now September, and the fields were full of
bright-colored fall flowers, while here and there a sweet-gum tree began
to put on autumn tints. The sun was bright, and there was a strong
breeze full of piney odors from the forests to the west.
They saw no game; and when they had rambled about for an hour or so,
they sat down under an oak-tree on the edge of the woods, and while they
were talking, an idea came into Harry's head. He picked a great big fat
toadstool that was growing near the roots of the tree, and carrying it
about sixty feet from the tree, he stuck it up on a bush.
"Now then," said he, taking up his gun, cocking it, and handing it to
Kate, "you take a shot at that mark."
"Do you mean that I shall shoot at it?" exclaimed Kate.
"Certainly," said Harry. "You ought to know how to shoot. And it won't
be the first time you have fired a gun. Take a shot."
"All right," said Kate. And she took off her hat and threw it on the
grass. Then she took the gun and raised it to a level with her eye.
"Be easy now," said Harry. "Hold the butt close against your shoulder.
Take your time, and aim right at the middle of the mark."
"I'm afraid I'm shutting the wrong eye," said Kate. "I always do."
"Shut your left eye," said Harry. "Get the sight right between your
other eye and the mark."
Kate took a good long aim, and then, summoning all her courage, she
pulled the trigger.
The gun went off with a tremendous bang! The toadstool trembled for an
instant, and then tumbled off the bush.
"Hurra!" shouted Harry. "You've hit it fair!" And he ran and brought it
to her, riddled with shot-holes. Kate was delighted with her success,
and would have been glad to have spent the rest of the afternoon firing
at a mark. But Harry was not well enough supplied with powder and shot
for that. However, he gave her another shot at a piece of paper on the
bush. She made three shot-holes in it, and Harry said that would do very
well. He then loaded up again, and then they started off for home. The
path they took led through a corner of the woods.
They had not gone far before they met Gregory Montague.
"Oh, Mah'sr Harry!" said Gregory, "I done foun' a bees' nes'."
"Where?" cried Harry.
"Down in a big tree in de holler, dar," pointing over toward the
thickest part of the woods. "You have to go fru de brush and bushes, but
it's a powerful big nest, Mah'sr Harry, right in de holler ob de tree."
"Are you sure it's a bees' nest?" said Harry. "How do you know?"
"I knows it's a bees' nest," said Gregory, somewhat reproachfully.
"Didn't I see de bees goin' in an' out fru a little hole?"
"Kate," said Harry, "you hold this gun a little while. I'll run down
there and see if it is really a bee-tree that he has found. Hold it
under your arm, that way, with the muzzle down. That's it. I'll be back
directly." And away he ran with Gregory.
And now Kate was left alone in the woods with a gun under her arm. It
was a new experience for her. She felt proud and pleased to have control
of a gun, and it was not long before she began to think that it would be
a splendid thing if she could shoot something that would do for supper.
How surprised they would all be if she should bring home some game that
she had shot, all by herself!
She made up her mind that she would do it, if she could see anything to
shoot.
And so she walked quietly along the path with her thumb on the hammer of
the gun, all ready to cock it the instant she should see a good chance
for a shot.