It was usually Guy who first
discovered the old Grizzly, then all would fire a harmless shot, the
Woodchuck would scramble into his den and the incident be closed for
the day. This became as much a part of the day's routine as getting
breakfast, and much more so than the washing of the dishes. Once or
twice the old Grizzly had narrow escapes, but so far he was none the
worse, rather the better, being wiser. The boys, on the other
hand, gained nothing, with the possible exception of Guy. Always
quick-sighted, his little washed-out optics developed a marvellous
keenness. At first it was as often Yan or Sam who saw the old Grizzly,
but later it was always Guy.
One morning Sam approached the game from one point, Guy and Yan from
another some yards away. "No Woodchuck!" was the first opinion, but
suddenly Guy called "I see him." There in a little hollow fully sixty
yards from his den, and nearly a hundred from the boys, concealed in a
bunch of clover, Guy saw a patch of gray fur hardly two inches square.
"That's him, sure."
Yan could not see it at all. Sam saw but doubted. An instant later
the Woodchuck (for it was he) stood up on his hind legs, raised his
chestnut breast above the clover, and settled all doubt.
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