Leather-Clad Tales of Adventure and Romance, No. 38 — page 204: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

194 IN THE SUNK LANDS. ‘“ We won't git much,” he said, ‘* mebby a couple o’ inches. To-morrow we'll take a b’ar hunt!” In the morning the snow had stopped, but the air was frosty and keen, while about the cabin and in the timber ran a myriad of tracks. ‘*Good mornin’ fur rabbits,” said Sammy, as we locked up our three dogs, fed Loafer, and with the dogs and rifles started for the canebrake. Joe carried his little German. ‘‘ But we re atter larger game,’ I objected. ‘An’ rougher,” added Sammy. ‘‘ Our dogs have hunted b’ar afore, an’ I reckon the five 0’ *em will give him work enough. Yours would likely git ripped open or - squeezed to death the first thing.” We were in the zenith of excitement when we came in sight of the canebrake. | Have you ever seen a canebrake ? If you haven’t, try and imagine canes the size of the fish poles-you see at a hardware or sporting goods store, and larger, growing as close together as the hair on your head, and varying in height from your shoulder to fourteen feet, and you have a brief descrip- tion. | 39 Gomicbooks (ele) mn