They hurried to the fallen prey, and were almost as much disappointed as the small boy is when he finds that his fish-hook has captured a demonstrative crab instead of a good-natured chub.
“Well,” the destroyer said, with a grim smile, “I have done what Steve has often tried to do, but never did—I have slain a grimalkin!”
“Cats have no business to prowl around here, and they deserve to be shot, though we haven’t come all this distance to shoot them,” Henry said peevishly. “But let us hide this hoary fellow; for if Steve should hear of it, he might be tempted to box it up and send it home as your first deer.”
It would not be worth while to give the weary and fruitless tramp the cousins took; it is sufficient to say that they shot nothing that a civilized cook would take pride in preparing for the table. At last Henry was fortunate enough to disable a brace of woodcocks, and after an exciting chase they secured them, and then returned to their quarters.
Next morning the entire party went hunting, resolved to kill something. They penetrated far into the forest, talking as freely as if they were in a desert or on the ocean. Consequently, they did not see much game.
“Hist!” Mr. Lawrence suddenly exclaimed. “What enormous beast is that yonder?”
“It’s a bear?” Will cried with rapture. “A genuine bear!”
“Are there bears here, in this part of the world?” Jim asked uneasily. “Did we come to hunt bears?”
“Of course we did; of course there are;” Henry said with disgust. “Jim, I wish our good old professor could have you among his students. There would be virgin soil, and you would make an apt student, I am sure.”
“Yes, it is a bear,” George said emphatically. “A large bear, and probably a ferocious one. There is the true bearish head, thick and heavy; the cropped ears; the thick snout; and the long shaggy coat. It is larger than even the one in the museum, isn’t it, Henry?”