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Seton, Ernest Thompson, 1860-1946

"Being the adventures of two boys who lived as Indians and what they learned"

"_A Bear_" was his first notion, but on second thoughts
he decided it was only a leaf sliding down the canvas. Later he was
roused by a "_Scratch, scratch, scratch_" close to him. He listened
silently for some time. This was no leaf; it was an _animal!_ Yes,
surely--it was a Mouse. He slapped the canvas violently and "hissed"
till it went away, but as he listened he heard again that peculiar
wail in the tree-tops. It almost made his hair sit up. He reached out
and poked the fire together into a blaze. All was still and in time he
dozed off. Once more he was wide awake in a flash and saw Sam sitting
up in bed listening.
[Illustration: "Where's the axe?"]
"What is it, Sam?" he whispered.
"I dunno. Where's the axe?"
"Right here."
"Let me have it on my side. You kin have the hatchet."
But they dropped off at last and slept soundly till the sun was strong
on the canvas and filling the teepee with a blaze of transmitted
light.
"Woodpecker! Woodpecker! Get up! Get up! Hi-e-yo! Hi-e-yo!
Double-u-double-o-d-bang-fizz-whackety-whack-y-r-chuck-
brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-Woodpecker," shouted Yan to his sleepy chum, quoting
a phrase that Sam when a child had been taught as the true spelling of
his nickname.


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