But he went at the
cooking with enthusiasm, which lasted nearly an hour. After this he
did not see any fun in it, and for once he, as well as the others,
began to realize how much was done for them at home. At noon Sappy set
out nothing but dirty dishes, and explained that so long as each got
his own it was all right. His foot was very troublesome at meal time
also. He said it was the moving round when he was hurrying that made
it so hard to bear, but in their expedition with bows and arrows later
on he found complete relief.
"Say, look at the Red-bird," he shouted, as a Tanager flitted onto a
low branch and blazed in the sun. "Bet I hit him first shot!" and he
drew an arrow.
"Here you, Saphead," said Sam, "quit that shooting at little birds.
It's bad medicine. It's against the rules; it brings bad luck--it
brings awful bad luck. I tell you there ain't no worse luck than Da's
raw-hide--that I know."
"Why, what's the good o' playin' Injun if we can't shoot a blame
thing?" protested Sappy.
"You kin shoot Crows an' Jays if you like, an' Woodchucks, too."
"I know where there's a Woodchuck as big as a Bear."
"Ah! What size Bear?"
"Well, it is. You kin laugh all you want to.
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