"Fine!" agreed the boys in unison, springing eagerly up from their
chairs.

"Well, hustle into your _adikeys_, then, and we'll try to get to leeward
of the old fellow," directed Skipper Ed.

"I hope there'll be a chance for a shot!" Bobby exclaimed excitedly, as
they shouldered their rifles and slung cartridge pouches over their
shoulders.

"So do I!" agreed Jimmy.

"Just a bare chance," said Skipper Ed, as they passed out into the porch
shed and took their snowshoes from the pegs. "It depends upon which way
they're traveling."

"Do you think there's more than one?" asked Bobby in an excited
undertone, as they swung away on snowshoes.

"Yes, but we'd better not talk now. They're keen, and shy old devils,
and they might hear us," warned Skipper Ed.

Cautiously but swiftly they stole out and into the moonlit forest and up
into the gulch and along the southern banks of a frozen brook. Now and
again Skipper Ed halted, stooping to peer about and along the open space
that marked the bed of the stream. Presently he held up his hand as a
sign of caution, and crouched behind a clump of brush, motioning the
boys to follow his example.