"And I haven't a bullet nor a buckshot; nothin' but small shot. Tell ye what, Bob. Drap that little one. The bar won't foller ye. You jest run for the house and git yer gun, and tell yer father, and have him come along, and bring some buckshot and slugs for me. Bars is fat now, and we'll jest gather this one."
Bob was putting Dot on the ground, when she said to him,
"Make the bear div back the pails, too."
While Bob was gone, Joe Mix made Dot tell him all about it, but he said,
"I guess I won't go ahead and scare him off; he'll stay and pick around."
"He'll pick all our berries."
"Now, Dot, there's berries enough. We'll pick him. It won't do to have him come and pick some of your father's pigs."
"Would he pick me?"
"Not unless the berries were all gone, and the nuts too, and the pigs. But I'm glad Bob got away with ye. He might have mistaken ye for a berry."
"I wasn't in a pail; I got behind a tree."