some civilized clothes for my boy. I had to take them in everywhere
except around the waist. There he was as big as I am, though I weigh
nearly two hundred pounds.

I returned from a hunting and exploring excursion Saturday night,
August 31, and had come to the conclusion by that time, after
satisfactory experience, that tuk-too hunting is not a pastime. It is
good, solid work from beginning to end, with no rest for the weary. If
any readers have meditated such a task as a divertisement, I would beg
to dissuade them from the undertaking, for they know not what they do.
Before attempting to follow tuk-too hunters over these hills and
valleys, I would advise a severe course of training. We started on the
morning of the 25th, in the midst of a strong gale, which had been
blowing all night from the north-west, and was bitter cold. It rained,
snowed, and hailed all at the same time, and the pelting hard stones
cut our faces nearly all the morning. The party consisted of "Sam,"
another of Joe's friends, his two younger brothers, Koumania, and
myself. I took a blanket and some little provisions, in case I should
be out over night. We walked along, without stopping, a distance of
about eight miles across the hardest country to travel over I had ever
seen, and when we halted to rest I was indeed tired. The rocks and
hills were hard enough to walk over, but the worst of all were the
moss-covered meadows. Your foot would sink at every step, and it was as
much like walking in loose, wet sand as anything with which I could
compare it. I wore native boots, or kummings, as they are called, for I
knew it would be impossible to get along with anything else; but the
sharp edges and points of the stones could be felt through them almost
as if one were barefooted. Do not think that the mossy meadows were a
relief after the rocks. On the contrary, they were but a delusion and a
snare, for beneath the velvet cushion was concealed the sharp and