would have been overtaken and have suffered a terrible death
had not the Hermit stepped between with his uplifted hoe.

With a snarl the weasel paused, its eyes flaming with hatred. For a
moment it seemed inclined to attack the man. At that point Pal rounded
the corner of the cabin to see the savage little beast confronting his
adored master. The sight aroused all the ferocity in the dog's nature.
The light of battle flared in his usually mild eyes and the hair rose
stiffly along his back. With a sharp bark, he charged. The weasel,
seeing itself outnumbered, turned and sped toward the forest, where it
vanished with the dog in hot pursuit. The Hermit returned to his hoeing,
glad that he and Pal had been the means of saving one life from the
cruel fangs which kill purely for the lust of killing.

On another day the Hermit owed his own life to the faithful dog. He had
gone some distance into the woods to visit a bed of ginseng which he had
discovered a fortnight before. In the rich leaf-mold the plants grew
lustily, covering the forest floor for some distance with their
spreading green umbrellas. With delighted eyes the Hermit stood gazing
upon his rich find, but when he stooped to ascertain whether or not the
roots were ready for drying, his outstretched hand was quickly arrested
by Pal's frenzied barking. He quickly withdrew his hand and moved
slightly until he could follow the dog's gaze. There, scarcely a foot
away, lay a coiled rattler, the ugly head raised. Even as the man
looked, the tail sent out its deadly warning.

The Hermit was surprised but not alarmed, for he had dealt with rattlers
before. With one blow of the mattock, which he always carried for
digging, the head of the big snake was crushed and its poisoned fangs
buried in the earth.

"Good old Pal! You probably saved my life. I would never have seen the
reptile in time," the Hermit said feelingly, as he patted the head of
the gratified dog. The rattles were carried home as trophies and the
love between man and dog was deepened, if such a thing were possible.

Thus, with long rambles in the forest and with hours of harvesting and
drying roots and berries, the days sped by, lengthening into weeks and
the weeks into months. Birch and maple dropped their leaves, a rustling
carpet about their feet. Wedges of wild geese winged their way southward
through the trackless sky, making the nights vocal with their honking.
The bear, woodchuck, skunk, raccoon and c