“Good afternoon, friend,” said Joe, who was greatly elated at this unlooked-for success; “see what you did,”—holding up the long gun, and showing the bear the marks of his own teeth on the stock. “Who do you think is to pay for that, eh? Don’t you wish you’d kept out of my corn?”
“See how guilty he looks,” said John, pointing to the creature, who lay with his fore paws on a large branch, gravely regarding his foes with the stoicism of an Indian at the stake.
“Come, boys, which of you want to shoot him?”
They both were silent.
“John does,” said Charlie, at length.
“Charlie does,” replied John.
“Both of you do. Well, both of you fire at him.”
The Last of the Bear.—Page 101.
Scarcely were the words uttered when their guns made a common report, and the bear tumbled to the ground perfectly dead.