True bear stories . up the hill! Hesgot him treed, hes got him treed! Keeparound the bush and go right up the hill,fast as you can. Hes got him treed, hesgot him treed! Hurrah for Monnehan, at 162 TEUE BEAE STOEIES. last! Hes got him treed, hes got himtreed! Out of breath from running, my fathersat down at the foot of the steep wall ofthe canyon below Monnehan and we boysclambered on up the grassy slope likegoats. Meantime, Monnehan kept shoutingwildly and fearfully as before. Such lungsas Monnehan had! A mighty hunter wasMonnehan. At last we got on the ridge upamong the scattering and storm-b

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True bear stories . up the hill! Hesgot him treed, hes got him treed! Keeparound the bush and go right up the hill, fast as you can. Hes got him treed, hesgot him treed! Hurrah for Monnehan, at 162 TEUE BEAE STOEIES. last! Hes got him treed, hes got himtreed! Out of breath from running, my fathersat down at the foot of the steep wall ofthe canyon below Monnehan and we boysclambered on up the grassy slope likegoats. Meantime, Monnehan kept shoutingwildly and fearfully as before. Such lungsas Monnehan had! A mighty hunter wasMonnehan. At last we got on the ridge upamong the scattering and storm-bent andlow-boughed oaks; breathless and nearlydead from exhaustion. Here, byes, here! We looked up the hill a little ahead ofus from where the voice came, and there, straddled across the leaning bough of abroad oak tree hung Monnehan, the mightyhunter. His hat was on the ground under-neath him, his club was still in his daringhand, but his gun was in the grass a hun-dred yards away. Here, boys, right up here. Come up. I dropped upon ray knee and cocked my gun. - Page 105. MONNEHAF. 163 here an get a look at im! Thots vaghtOi got up ere fur, to get a good look atim! Eight up now, byes, an get a goodlook at im! Look out fur me hat there! My brother hastily ran and got andhanded me the gun and instantly was upthe tree along with Monnehan, peering for-ward and back, left and right, everywhere.But no sign, no sound or scent of any bearanywhere. By this time my father had arrived withhis pitchfork and a very tired little boy.He sat down on the grass, and, wearilywiping his forehead, he said to Monnehan, Mr. Monnehan, how big was the bearthat you saw? Well, now. Squire, upon the sowl o me, he was fully the size of a very extraordi-nary black dog, answered Mr. Monnehan, as he descended and came and stood closeto my father, as if to defend him with hisclub. Father rose soon after and, withjust the least tinge of impatience and vex- 164 TRUE BEAR STORIES. ation in his voice, said to brotlie