The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

RED HAMBLIN ENTERTAINS, 87 gun at the chinkings of the logs; another emptied the ‘“‘ twenty-two ” at an imaginary mouse in one corner—it was the toe of an old rubber boot. “ To-morrer!”” Red Hamblin declared, © we'll all go huntin’!” D. Cuecy and his belongings were taken up into the dormitory, and he was shown to a cot beside the aisle, about midway be- tween the ladder and the office, in which Foreman Bigger slept. His suit-cases and boxes were piled around him, and the log- gers went to their own places. Long after the loggers were in bunk, D. Cuecy was feeling around among his pos- sessions, by the dim lantern light, trying to dispose of his things, He had never seen a log camp before! During the night the loggers were rest- less. First one, then another would go ambling around. Red wanted his chewing tobacco; Ross.Compty was trying to find his old pipe—not the new one! Slip Wan- da pretended to be a somnambulist, and fell over’ D. Cuecy’s cot, and then it required five or six loggers to carry him back to his own cot and put him to bed. At dawn D. Cuecy was heavy-eyed for want of sleep. The loggers stirring out for the day, however, boasted what a good night’s rest they had had, and Red re- marked that he had never seen the boys so quiet as that night. “Quiet! * Quiet!” D. Cuecy repeated wonderingly. “We got to get an early start this morn- ing,’ Red declared. ‘ Them deers ’Il be all over the ridges, a purty moming like this. Mebby we'll get that eld bear an’ her cubs Started, too—the ones Mr. Vroon saw!”’ They hurried down to the lobby, and by the time they were washed the cook called them to breakfast. D. Cuecy, hopeful of escaping to another seat than the one next to Red, failed. He discovered that once a man claims a seat at the table, it is his for the duration of his stay. If he feared a repetition of the previous night’s overliberal helping, he was disap- pointed. Red urged him to hurry with his eating, so they wouldn’t be late. Gulping down the hash, bread, hot coffee, and other things, Red urged his seat-mate to do like- wise, and D. Cuecy, modest, embarrassed, and in strange quarters, was dragged away from the table before he had fairly tasted his break fast. Early as he was, however, he found that his woodsmen friends had prepared for the hunt. Shp Wanda had his big rifle, Red had his shotgun, and Ross Compty had his “ twenty-two.” His nine-inch blade hunt- ing-knife was flourishing in the hands of Peter Lansley. ‘Come on, boys!” Red shouted, and led the way up the ridge. D. Cuecy, with nothing but his: hunting- boots to carry, pressed up with the others. Every time he hinted gently, that he would just as soon carry his gun, the woodsmen poo-hooed the idea. Let a guest carry a gun! That ’d never do in the world! They hurried breathlessly to the ridge back, and along the top to Cotton Moun- tain, and down to Cotten Lake, through the balsam swamp and caribou moss to Pe- kan Rocks, and up over the broken stones to the foot of a high ledge, and around through gullies and over ledges—every- where at top speed. “ Lot’s of bears in this country!” Red exclaimed, hauling up his gun and firing a charge of buckshot down the mountain. Immediately the rifles opened up, and there was a fusillade. ‘“‘Wha—what you Cuecy exclaimed. ‘ Heard sunthin’!”” Red exclaimed brief- ly. ‘‘Same’s you did last night! I didn’t hear nothin’ squeal, so I guess there wa’n’t nothin’ hit that time!” In half an hour, D,. Cuécy was breath- less; in an hour he was steaming with sweat, and before mid-morning he was so tired he could hardly stagger along. Over shooting at?” D. and over again he had declared that he never had hunted that way before—didn’t know people ever hunted that way—always had supposed people must keep quiet when they hunted! “ This ain’t still huntin’!” Red declared. “ This is what we call drivin’ em! You see, when you get ’em all stirred up an’ runnin’ all around, good, all you got to do is set down, an’ purty soon the deers an’ bears ‘Il be runnin’ right up to you, ker- oO comicbooks CO