CHAPTER V
WHEN KATE CAME HOME
"Some one is in trouble, Bob!" cried the younger Armstrong boy, as these sounds came floating to their ears.
"Yes, and a white man, too," said Bob, as he tossed the bundle of venison up into the crotch of a big oak tree close at hand. "We must see if we can help him."
Sandy was nothing loth. He knew full well that the unwritten law of the woods compelled every man to extend assistance when he met with one in need, and from the nature of the racket they could imagine that something quite out of the ordinary must be taking place.
The two lads set off on a run, eager to reach the spot as quickly as possible. True, they were rather short of ammunition just then, but so long as a single load remained to their guns they were ready to use it in behalf of any one in distress.
"Listen, brother," said Sandy, when they had covered some little distance; "surely we have heard that voice before."
"KICKING FURIOUSLY AT A LEAN BLACK BEAR, JUST BELOW HIM."
"Yes," returned Bob, with a little laugh, "it is our old friend, Pat O'Mara, without a doubt; but what can he have stumbled into now? Pat is always looking for a 'ruction,' as he calls it, and generally finding what he wants."
"Perhaps the wolves, after leaving us, may have treed him," suggested Sandy, with something like a broad grin appearing on his freckled face.