Music]

"Oh, 'twas down in the woods of the Arkansaw,
And the night was cloudy and the wind was raw,

[Illustration: Music]

And he didn't have a bed and he didn't have a bite,
And if he hadn't fiddled he'd a travelled all night."

BOSEPHUS paused in his mad flight to listen. Surely this was someone
playing the violin, and the tune was familiar.

He listened more intently.

"But he came to a cabin and an old gray man,
And says he, 'Where am I going? Now tell me if you can----'"

It was the "Arkansaw Traveller" and close at hand. The little boy tore
hastily through the brush in the direction of the music. The moon had
come up, and he could see quite well, but he did not pause to pick his
way. As he stepped from the thicket out into an open space the fiddling
ceased. It was bright moonlight there, too, and as Bosephus took in the
situation his blood turned cold.

In the center of the open space was a large tree. Backed up against this
tree, and looking straight at the little boy, with fiddle in position
for playing, and uplifted bow, was a huge Black Bear!

Bosephus looked at the Bear, and the Bear looked at Bosephus.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he roared.

"I--I am Bo-se-Bosephus, an' I--I g-guess I'm l-lost!" gasped the little
boy.

"Guess you are!" laughed the Bear, as he drew the bow across the
strings.

"An-an' I haven't had any s-supper, either."

"Neither have I!" grinned the Bear, "that is, none worth mentioning. A
young rabbit or two, perhaps, and a quart or so of blackberries, but
nothing real good and strengthening to fill up on." Then he regarded
Bosephus reflectively, and began singing as he played softly:--

"Oh, we'll have a little music first and then some supper, too,
But before we have the supper we will play the music through."

"No hurry, you know. Be cool, please, and don't wiggle so."

But Bosephus, or Bo, as he was called, was very much disturbed. So far
as he could see there was no prospect of supper for anybody but the
Bear.

"You'll forget all about supper pretty soon," continued the Bear,
fiddling.

"You'll forget about your supper--you'll forget about your home--
You'll forget you ever started out in Arkansaw to roam."

"My name is Horatio," he continued. "Called Ratio for short. But I don't
like it. Call me Horatio, in full, please."

[Illustration: "MAYBE YOU CAN PLAY IT YOURSELF."]

"Oh, ye-yes, sir!" sa