“What did you find there? Was it any thing that could injure you?”
“No,” said Joe, shaking his head solemnly.
“Why did you run, then?” demanded Glenn, impatiently.
“The truth is, I don’t know myself, now I reflect about it. But I’d rather not tell what I saw just yet. I was pretty considerably alarmed, wasn’t I?”
“Ridiculous! I will not be trifled with in this manner Tell me instantly what you saw!” said Glenn, his vexation and anger overcoming his usual indulgent nature.
“I’ll tell you now—it was a—Didn’t you see them bushes move?” asked Joe, staring wildly at a clump of sumach bushes a few paces distant.
“What was it you saw at the cave-spring!” shouted Glenn, his face turning red.
“I—I”—responded Joe, his eyes still fixed on the bushes. “It was a—Ugh!”—cried he, starting, as he beheld the little thicket open, and a tall man rise up, holding in his hand a bunch of dead muskrats.
“Dod speak on—I want to hear what it was—I’ve been laying here all this time waiting to know what great thing it was that skeered you so much. I never laughed so in all my life as I did when he got a-straddle of you. I was coming up to the sled, when I saw you streaking it through the vines and briers, and then I squatted down awhile to see what would turn up next.”
“Ha! ha! ha! is it you, Sneak? I thought you was an Indian! Come on, I’ll tell now. It was a man’s moccasin!” said Joe, in a low, mysterious tone.