had given so much
pain.

"I'll never shoot another bird except hawks after chickens, and I won't
brag about this one. It was so tame, and trusted me, I was very mean to
kill it."

As he thought this, Tommy smoothed the ruffled feathers of the dead
thrush, and, making a little grave under the pine, buried it wrapped in
green leaves, and left it there where its mate could sing over it, and
no rude hands disturb its rest.

"I'll tell mamma and she will understand; but I _won't_ tell Billy. He
is such a greedy old chap he'll say I ought to have kept the poor bird
to eat," thought Tommy, as he went back to the hut, and sat there,
restringing his bow, till Billy woke up, much more amiable for his
sleep.

They tried to find the woodchuck, but lost their way, and wandered
deeper into the great forest till they came to a rocky place and could
go no farther. They climbed up and tumbled down, turned back and went
round, looked at the sun and knew it was late, chewed sassafras bark
and checkerberry leaves for supper, and grew more and more worried and
tired as hour after hour went by and they saw no end to woods and rocks.
Once or twice they heard the hunter's gun far away, and called and tried
to find him.

Tommy scolded Billy for not going with the man, who knew his way and was
probably safe in the valley when the last faint shot came up to them.
Billy cried, and reproached Tommy for proposing to run away; and both
felt very homesick for their mothers and their good safe beds at Farmer
Mullin's.

The sun set, and found them in a dreary place full of rocks and blasted
trees half-way up the mountain. They were so tired they could hardly
walk, and longed to lie down anywhere to sleep; but, remembering the
hunter's story of the bear, they were afraid to do it, till Tommy
suggested climbing a tree, after making a fire at the foot of it to
scare away the bear, lest he climb too and get them.

But, alas! the matches were left in their first camp; so they decided to
take turns to sleep and watch, since it was plain that they must spend
the night there. Billy went up first, and creeping into a good notch of
the bare tree tried to sleep, while brave Tommy, armed with a big
stick, marched to and fro below. Every few minutes a trembling voice
would call from above, "Is anything coming?" and an anxious voice would
answer from below, "Not yet. Hurry up and go to sleep! I want my turn."

At last Billy began to snore, and then Tommy f