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D'RI AND I
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by canoe from our landing,—and wait for the hour at Paleyville, a Yankee village opposite the island. We would hire a team there, and convey the party by wagon to Leraysville.

We were off at daybreak, and going over the hills at a lively gallop. Crossing to Caraway Pike, in the Cedar Meadows, an hour later, we stampeded a lot of moose. One of them, a great bull, ran ahead of us, roaring with fright, his antlers rattling upon bush and bough, his black bell hanging to the fern-tops.

"Don' never wan't' hev no argyment with one o' them air chaps 'less ye know purty nigh how 't's comin' out," said D'ri. "Alwus want a gun es well es a purty middlin' ca-a-areful aim on your side. Then ye 're apt t' need a tree, tew, 'fore ye git through with it." After a moment's pause he added: "Got t' be a joemightyful stout tree, er he 'll shake ye out uv it luk a ripe apple."

"They always have the negative side of the question," I said. "Don't believe they 'd ever chase a man if he 'd let 'em alone."

"Yis, siree, they would," was D'ri's answer. "I 've hed 'em come right efter me 'fore ever I c'u'd lift a gun. Ye see, they 're jest es cur'us