oking too, in less than five minutes, for Grant, in the fulness of his
heart, gave him a pipe and a lump of tobacco.

This man was a fine specimen of a hale old Norseman. He wore a complete
suit of brown homespun--excepting the jacket, which hung on a rusty nail
in the wall. Knee-breeches and worsted stockings showed that even in
declining years he had a good pair of legs. His grey hair hung in long
straight locks over his shoulders, and on his head was the invariable
red nightcap. The only weakness for finery displayed by this old hero
was in the matter of buttons and braces. The buttons were polished
brass of enormous size, and the braces were red. These were displayed
to great advantage in consequence of a space of full four inches
intervening between the bottom of his vest and the waist-band of his
breeches.

While the grod was being made, Fred Temple put up his fishing-rod and
rambled away in search of a stream. He had not to go far. In about
five minutes he found one that looked tempting. At the very first cast
a large fish rose so greedily that it leaped quite out of the water and
missed the fly. The next cast the fish caught the fly and Fred caught
the fish. It was a splendid yellow trout of about a pound weight. In
quarter of an hour Fred had three such trout in the pockets of his
shooting-coat; in half an hour more the three fish were consigned by the
three friends to the region of digestion!

And now the question of bed had to be considered. Grant settled it as
far as he was concerned by throwing himself down on a pile of brushwood
that lay in a corner, pillowing his head on a three-legged stool, and
going off to sleep at once. Fred and Sam looked at the two beds. They
were extremely dirty, and it was evident that straw was the bedding.

"Come, travellers must not be particular," cried Fred, as he tumbled
into his box.

"I couldn't hold my eyes open five minutes longer to save my life,"
muttered Sam, as he rolled over into the other.

In a minute the three friends began to breathe heavily. Two minutes
more and they were snoring, a trio in happy forgetfulness of all their
toils.

Now, it must be told that this pleasant state of things did not last
long. Fred Temple and Sam Sorrel were not the only occupants of these
beds. Truth, however disagreeable, must be revealed. There were living
creatures which not only slept in those beds, but which dwelt there when
perfectly wide awake; and