Part 5 (1/2)

”It does look a little that way. But I must have that squirrel, if I have to shoot all day. Haven't you got a load in your gun?”

”Yes; but I might as well have none. I can kill as many squirrels by throwing the musket at them, as I can by shooting at them.”

”Never mind, fire away-the ammunition doesn't cost us any thing.”

”I know it; but another thing, this musket kicks like blazes. I had as soon stand before it, as behind it. But I'll try him;” and Archie raised his gun and blazed away. This time there was no mistake; the squirrel was torn almost to pieces by the ball; and when the smoke cleared away, Frank saw his cousin sitting on the ground, holding both hands to his nose, which was bleeding profusely.

”You've killed the squirrel,” he said.

”Yes,” answered Archie; ”but I hurt myself as much as I did him.”

Frank was a good deal amused, and could scarcely refrain from laughing at his cousin's misfortune. He tried to keep on a sober face, but the corners of his mouth would draw themselves out into a smile, in spite of himself. Archie noticed this, and exclaimed:

”Oh, it's a good joke, no doubt.”

”If you would hold your gun firmly against your shoulder,” said Frank, ”it wouldn't hurt half so bad. But hadn't we better go on?”

Archie raised himself slowly from the ground, and they moved off through the woods. The squirrels were very plenty; but it required two or three, and, sometimes, as many as half a dozen shots, to bring one down.

At length, after securing four squirrels, their shoulders became so lame that they could scarcely raise their guns; so they concluded to give up shooting, and start in search of Woods and Simpson, who had gone off together. About noon they found them, sitting on the fence that ran between the woods and a road. Simpson had three squirrels in his hand.

”We are waiting for you,” he said, as Frank and Archie came up; ”it's about time to start for the boat.”

”I'm hungry,” said Frank; ”why can't we go down to that house and hire some one to cook our squirrels for us?”

”That's a good idea,” said Woods; ”come along;” and he sprang off the fence, and led the way toward the house spoken of by Frank, which stood about a quarter of a mile down the road, toward the river.

As they opened the gate that led into the yard, they noticed that a man, who sat on the porch in front of the house, regarded them with a savage scowl on his face.

”How cross that man looks!” said Archie, who, with his cousin, was a little in advance of the others; ”maybe he's a reb.”

”How do you do, sir?” inquired Frank, as he approached the place where the man was sitting.

”What do yees want here?” he growled, in reply.

”We came here to see if we couldn't hire some one to cook a good dinner for us,” answered Frank.

”No, ye can't,” answered the man, gruffly; ”get out o' here. I never did nothin' for a Yank, an' I never will. I'd like to see yer all drove from the country. Get out o' here, I tell yer,” he shouted, seeing that the sailors did not move, ”or I'll let my dogs loose on yer!”

”Why, I really believe he is a reb,” said Archie; ”he's the first one I ever saw. He looks just like any body else, don't he, boys?”

”If yees don't travel mighty sudden, I'll make a scatterin' among yer,” said the man, between his clenched teeth; ”I'll be dog-gone if I don't shoot some o' yer;” and he reached for a long double-barrel shot-gun that stood behind his chair.

”Avast, there, you old landlubber,” exclaimed Simpson; ”just drop that shootin' iron, will you. We're four to your one, and you don't suppose that we are going to stand still and be shot down, like turkeys on Thanksgivin' morning, do you? No, sir, that would be like the handle of a jug, all on one side. Shootin' is a game two can play at, you know. Come, put that we'pon down;” and Simpson held his musket in the hollow of his arm, and handled the lock in a very significant manner.

The man saw that the sailors were not to be intimidated, and not liking the way Simpson eyed him, he leaned his gun up in the corner again, and muttered something about Yankee mudsills and Abolitionists.

”Just clap a stopper on that jaw of yours, will you,” said Simpson; ”or, s.h.i.+ver my timbers, if we don't try man-o'-war punishment on you. Now, Frank,” he continued, ”you just jump up there, and shoot off the old rascal's gun; and then keep an eye on him, and don't let him get out of his chair; and the rest of us will look around and see what we can find in the way of grub.”

Frank sprang up the steps that led on to the porch, and fired both barrels of the gun into the air, and then, drawing a chair to the other end of the porch, coolly seated himself, and deposited his feet on the railing; while the others went into the house, where they secured a pail of fresh milk and a loaf of bread. From the house they went into the wood-shed, where they found a quant.i.ty of sweet potatoes. They then returned to the place where they had left Frank.