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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hunters of the Hills"


Perhaps he has never seen a man before. Now he's looking at you, Robert,
trying to decide what kind of an animal you are, and forming an estimate
of your character and disposition."
"You're developing your imagination, Dave, but since I saw what you said
and did in Quebec I'm not surprised."
"Encouraged by your motionless state he's left the fork, and come a half
dozen feet down the trunk in order to get a better look at you. I think
he likes you, Robert. He lies flattened against the bark, and if I had
not seen him descending I would not notice him now, but the glow of the
coals still enables me to make out his blazing little red eyes like
sparks of fire. Now he is looking at me, and I don't think he has as
much confidence in my harmlessness as he has in yours. Perhaps it's
because he sees my eyes are upon him and he doesn't like to be watched.
He's a saucy little fellow. Sit still, Robert! I see a black shadow over
your head, and I think our little friend, the squirrel, should look out.
Ah, there he goes! Missed! And our handsome young friend, the gray
squirrel, is safe! He has scuttled into his hole higher up the tree!"
Robert had heard a rush of wings and he had seen a long black shadow
pass.


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