wood on the fire and it blazed up brightly. By its glow the boy saw, coming into the circle of light, a man dressed in thick, heavy garments, with a coonskin cap on his head. Over his shoulder was a gun, and he had some rabbits and birds slung at his back.
"Hello!" called the man to Bert, who was now outside the little tent. "Who are you?"
"Bert Bobbsey," was the answer. "My sister and cousins are here. We got lost and made this shelter. Were you looking for us?"
"Well, not exactly," said the hunter slowly, as he leaned on his gun, and looked at the fire, then at Bert and next on Nan, Dorothy and Harry, who by this time had come from the tent. "Not exactly, but maybe it's a good thing I found you. The storm is growing worse. What did you say your name was?"
"Bert Bobbsey."
The hunter started.
"Any relation to Mr. Richard Bobbsey?" he asked.
"He's my father."
"You don't say so! Well, I'm glad to hear that. It will give me a chance to do him a
