wasn't more than a foot deep, long before it was thought safe to trust him with a rod or gun. But Joe does not seem to care much for a gun. He is fairly carried away by his love of archery, and a longbow is his favorite weapon."
"Do you know who Tom Bigden is, and what Joe has done to incur his ill-will?" I inquired.
"I have some slight acquaintance with that young gentleman," answered the canoe, with a laugh. "It was through him that I was snagged and sunk in the Indian Lake country. I don't know how the fuss started, and neither does anybody except Tom Bigden himself; but I suppose that fellow over there and a few others like him, are wholly to blame for it."
"What fellow? Over where?" I asked; for of course the canvas canoe could not point his finger or nod his head to tell me which way to look.
"This fellow up here," said a new voice, which came from over the bookcase.
I looked up, and there was another lance-wood bow, resting on a pair of deer's antlers. He was not quite as fancy as the prize bow of whom I have already spoken. His green plush
