A gray flash shot along a limb of a white oak; then the bushy tail of a squirrel flitted into a well-protected notch, from whence, no doubt, a keen little eye watched the hunter's every movement.
The rifle was raised; then lowered.

The hunter walked around the tree.

Presently up in the tree top, snug under a knotty limb, he spied a little ball of gray fur.

Grasping a branch of underbush, he shook it vigorously.

The thrashing sound worried the gray squirrel, for he slipped from his retreat and stuck his nose over the limb.
CRACK! With a scratching and tearing of bark the squirrel loosened his hold and then fell; alighting with a thump.