THE DINNER IN THE WOODS.
By this time it was close to the hour of noon, and the young hunters
were hungry. They had brought no lunch with them, for that would have
been an admission that they doubted their own ability to provide food
for themselves in a country abounding with game.
Nick Ribsam had a paper of salt and pepper mixed, with which to season
their dinner as soon as it should be secured.
The common red squirrels, or chickarees, were so plentiful that they
were nearly always in sight, and, without moving from where they stood,
the lads descried several running along the limbs of the trees.
"Let each of us shoot one," said Sam, walking forth to get a better aim
at a fellow perched high on the branch of a large oak.
Slowly bringing his gun to his shoulder, he took careful aim, and the
game came tumbling through the leaves to the ground, his head punctured
by the cruel bullet. Bowser started at a lazy walk to bring the body in,
but Sam stopped him and picked it up himself.
"I think I will take _that_ one," said Herbert, indicating a squirrel
which was nearer than the others. It was sitting in the crotch of a
tree, nigh enough to be struck with a stone flung by a skillful thrower.
The other two watched his actions with some interest as he raised the
handsome breech-loader. He took a long and deliberate aim, and gave a
grunt the instant he pulled the trigger, and the sharp report broke the
stillness of the woods.
Nick and Sam laughed, for the frightened rodent scampered up the tree
and ran out upon a heavy branch, where he whisked from sight and then
back again, chattering in such a lively fashion that it was plain he had
suffered no inconvenience from the bullet sent after him.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" exclaimed the chagrined Herbert, "I don't
understand how that came about."
"The squirrel doesn't seem to understand it, either," said Sam; "let's
see whether you can do any worse, Nick."
"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
the remark of Nick.
As the two squirrels were large and in excellent condition, it was
thought they would afford enough dinner for the boys, who went some
distance farther until they reached a small stream of clear, icy water,
where they decided to make their fire.
While Nick and Herbert busied themselves gathering some dry twigs and
sticks, Sam Harper, with his keen knife, skillfully skinned the
chickarees, dressed them, and then holding them over the flame on
green, forked sticks, they were soon cooked to a turn.
For a few minutes before they were ready, the odor of the broiling game
so sharpened the appetites of the boys that Nick sprang up, and,
hurrying out in the woods, shot another for Sam to dress and cook.
"Two ain't enough," he said in explanation, as he threw the last to his
friend; "I can eat a couple myself, and Bowser looks sort of faint."
"The waste parts ought to be enough for him," said Sam, glancing at the
hound, who had gulped down everything thrown him and was gazing
wistfully for the next tid-bits that should fall to his share.
The clear, pure air, the vigorous exercise, and the rugged health of the
boys gave them appetites scarcely less forceful than that of Bowser; and
when Nick had carefully sprinkled the seasoning over the juicy, crisp
flesh, and each, taking one of the squirrels in hand, began wrenching
off the tender meat, he was sure he had never tasted such a delicious
dinner in all his life.
Even Herbert Watrous, accustomed as he was to the delicacies and
refinements of a city home, admitted that there was something about the
meal which, washed down with clear, pure water, had a flavor surpassing
anything of the kind he had ever known.
The causes why it tasted thus I have already stated.