oods, without food or water,
and had slept a couple of hours in a crooked tree, like a wild turkey.

He has a mild, gentle face, blue eyes, and full beard; he is a religious
fanatic, and is as hardy as a bear or elk, literally caring nothing for
fatigue and exposure, which we couldn't stand at all. He doesn't seem to
consider the 24 hours' trip he has just made, any more than I should
a half hour's walk before breakfast. He quotes the preacher Talmage
continually.

This is a black belt. The people are almost all negroes, curious
creatures, some of them with Indian blood, like those in "Voodoo Tales."
Yesterday we met two little negresses riding one mule, bare-legged, with
a rope bridle.

Tenesas Bayou, Oct. 10, 1907.

BLESSED ARCHIE:

I just loved your letter. I was so glad to hear from you. I was afraid
you would have trouble with your Latin. What a funny little fellow
Opdyke must be; I am glad you like him. How do you get on at football?

We have found no bear. I shot a deer; I sent a picture of it to Kermit.

A small boy here caught several wildcats. When one was in the trap he
would push a box towards it, and it would itself get into it, to hide;
and so he would capture it alive. But one, instead of getting into the
box, combed the hair of the small boy!

We have a great many hounds in camp; at night they gaze solemnly into
the fire.

Dr. Lambert has caught a good many bass, which we have enjoyed at the
camp table.

Bear Bayou, Oct. 16, 1907.

DARLING ARCHIE:

We have had no luck with the bear; but we have killed as many deer as
we needed for meat, and the hounds caught a wildcat. Our camp is as
comfortable as possible, and we have great camp fires at night.

One of the bear-hunting planters with me told me he once saw a bear,
when overtaken by the hounds, lie down flat on its back with all its
legs stretched out, while the dogs barked furiously all around it.

Suddenly the bear sat up with a jump, and frightened all the dogs so
that they nearly turned back somersaults.

At this camp there is a nice tame pussy-cat which lies out here all the
time, catching birds, mice, or lizards; but very friendly with any party
of hunters which happens along.

P. S.--I have just killed a bear; I have written Kermit about it.

The Bear Plays Dead.

The Bear Sits Up.

SHOOTING THE BEAR

En route to Washington, Oct. 22, 1907.

DEAR TED:

"Bad old father" is coming back after a successful trip. It