Undoubtedly the damage
was greatly exaggerated, but the farmers generally agreed that
the woodchuck was a pest.
Whatever resentment the tiller of the soil might feel against the
Indian's hunting quail on his land, he always welcomed him as a
killer of woodchucks.
And the Indian looked on this animal as fair game and most
excellent eating.
Rolf watched eagerly when Quonab, taking his bow and arrows, said
they were going out for a meat hunt. Although there were several
fields with woodchucks resident, they passed cautiously from one
to another, scanning the green expanse for the dark-brown spots
that meant woodchucks out foraging. At length they found one,
with a large and two small moving brown things among the clover.
The large one stood up on its hind legs from time to time, ever
alert for danger. It was a broad, open field, without cover; but
close to the cleared place in which, doubtless, was the den,
there was a ridge that Quonab judged would help him to approach.
Rolf was instructed to stay in hiding and make some Indian signs
that the hunter could follow when he should lose sight of the
prey.
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