Frank, the Young Naturalist | Page 4

Nimrods of the village, that Frank, with Bravo's
assistance, could kill more squirrels in any given time than any three
boys in Lawrence.
CHAPTER II.
An Ugly Customer.

Directly behind the cottage stands a long, low, neatly constructed
building, which is divided by partitions into three rooms, of which one
is used as a wood-shed, another for a carpenter's shop, and the third is
what Frank calls his "museum." It contains stuffed birds and animals,
souvenirs of many a well-contested fight. Let us go and examine them.
About the middle of the building is the door which leads into the
museum, and, as you enter, the first object that catches your eye is a
large wild-cat, crouched on a stand which is elevated about four feet
above the floor, his back arched, every hair in his body sticking toward
his head, his mouth open, displaying a frightful array of teeth, his ears
laid back close to his head, and his sharp claws spread out, presenting
altogether a savage appearance; and you are glad that you see him dead
and stuffed, and not alive and running at liberty in the forest in the full
possession of strength. But the young naturalist once stood face to face
with this ugly customer under very different circumstances.
About forty miles north of Lawrence lives an old man named Joseph
Lewis. He owns about five hundred acres of land, and in summer he
"farms it" very industriously; but as soon as the trapping season
approaches he leaves his property to the care of his hired men, and
spends most of the time in the woods. About two-thirds of his farm is
still in its primeval state, and bears, wild-cats, and panthers abound in
great numbers. The village boys are never more delighted than when
the winter vacation comes, and they can gain the permission of their
parents to spend a fortnight with "Uncle Joe," as they call him.
The old man is always glad to see them, and enlivens the long winter
evenings with many a thrilling story of his early life. During the winter
that had just passed, Frank, in company with his cousin Archie Winters,
of whom more hereafter, paid a visit to Uncle Joe. One cold, stormy
morning, as they sat before a blazing fire, cracking hickory-nuts, the
farmer burst suddenly into the house, which was built of logs, and
contained but one room, and commenced taking down his rifle.
"What's the matter, Uncle Joe?" inquired Archie.
"Matter!" repeated the farmer; "why, some carnal varmint got into my
sheep-pen last night, and walked off with some of my mutton. Come,"

he continued, as he slung on his bullet-pouch, "let's go and shoot him."
Frank and Archie were ready in a few minutes; and, after dropping a
couple of buck-shot into each barrel of their guns, followed the farmer
out to the sheep-pen. It was storming violently, and it was with great
difficulty that they could find the "varmint's" track. After half an hour's
search, however, with the assistance of the farmer's dogs, they
discovered it, and began to follow it up, the dogs leading the way. But
the snow had fallen so deep that it almost covered the scent, and they
frequently found themselves at fault. After following the track for two
hours, the dogs suddenly stopped at a pile of hemlock-boughs, and
began to whine and scratch as if they had discovered something.
"Wal," said Uncle Joe, dropping his rifle into the hollow of his arm,
"the hounds have found some of the mutton, but the varmint has took
himself safe off."
The boys quickly threw aside the boughs, and in a few moments the
mangled remains of one of the sheep were brought to light. The thief
had probably had more than enough for one meal, and had hidden the
surplus carefully away, intending, no doubt, to return and make a meal
of it when food was not quite so plenty.
"Wal, boys," said the farmer, "no use to try to foller the varmint any
further. Put the sheep back where you found it, and this afternoon you
can take one of your traps and set it so that you can ketch him when he
comes back for what he has left." So saying, he shouldered his rifle and
walked off, followed by his hounds.
In a few moments the boys had placed every thing as they had found it
as nearly as possible, and hurried on after the farmer.
That afternoon, after disposing of an excellent dinner, Frank and Archie
started into the woods to set a trap for the thief. They took with them a
large wolf-trap, weighing about thirty pounds. It was a "savage thing,"
as Uncle Joe said, with a powerful spring on each side, which severely
taxed