Under the Big Dipper

Helène; “and I’ve no doubt Mr. Morton thinks very highly of you, too.”

“I guess he does. He took me to the city, gave me all kinds of chances; but somehow or other I never could cotton to straight town life. Always wanted to go back to the woods and the water—I am satisfied to end my days there.”

A pause for a few more puffs.

“Well, about two years ago, Mr. Morton comes up to his camp pretty late in the season and wants me to go huntin’ and fishin’ with him. It was kind o’ late for fish, and Mr. John is a queer hunter, he is. He would just watch the game, follow them up, maybe—but shoot? You can’t get him to kill anything. He has all the trophies he wanted, he said—and as long as we had grub there wasn’t no need of killing God’s creatures.

“He was quieter than usual, and he says to me that he wants me to go with him to Africa—doing some

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