Neither Herbert nor Sam had heard Nick's rifle, though it might have
been discharged without recognition by them.

Herbert had been asleep so long that he could have missed the report
very readily, while Sam was so far from Nick that the sound of his gun
could have been mistaken for that fired by some wandering hunter,
unknown to either.

Every few minutes, Sam halloed or whistled, after Nick's favorite manner
of signaling, and then the two bent their heads and listened for the
answer, which came not.

The broiled game remained untasted, for Sam's appetite was suspended,
and Herbert refused to eat while his companion was in such mental
trouble.

"There's no use of talking," finally exclaimed Sam, unable to repress
his uneasiness, "something has gone wrong with Nick, and I'm bound to
find out what it is."




CHAPTER XXIII.

HUNTING A BUCK.


It will be remembered that when Nick Ribsam left his companions, early
in the afternoon, it was with the resolution to find out whether the