Just at sunrise they reached a ridge covered with hickory and pecan-trees.
"Here we are," he exclaimed, as he leaned on his gun, and wiped his forehead with his coat-sleeve.

"There are plenty of squirrels around here.
But I'm hungry; we have plenty of time to eat some breakfast before we begin." They seated themselves under the branches of some small hickories, and Simpson produced from a basket some salt pork, hard crackers, and a bottle of cold coffee.

Their long walk had given them good appetites, and the meal, homely as it was, was eaten with a relish.

After they had rested a few moments, they started off in different directions, to commence the hunt.

As Frank walked slowly along, with his gun on his shoulder, he could not help thinking of the many times he had been on such excursions about his native village.