Just as he turned to follow the deer, Herbert Watrous raised his
breech-loader to his shoulder and fired point blank at him.

"What did you do that for?" demanded Sam Harper, striding threateningly
toward him with his fist raised.

"Why--why--I declare! I thought it was the bear!" exclaimed the abashed
Herbert; "I never dreamed it was the dog."

Sam was not disposed to believe this story, and he stood irresolute,
strongly inclined to punish the city youth who had fired at his hound;
but Nick compelled his angry friend to laugh by saying:

"You shouldn't be mad, Sam, for Bowser is safe so long as Herbert aims
at him. I don't think he came within twenty feet. If he should hit him
you can make up your mind it is an accident."

Herbert hardly knew how to answer this remark, for he saw that he had
not done a very creditable thing, view it as he might, so he made a
radical turn in the conversation.

"Who would have thought it, boys? We've got not only a bear, but a deer
to hunt, and I say, may the best fellow win!"

And with this manly sentiment on his lips he broke into a rapid run
after the buck and hound, the others following, forgetful of the little
flurry a few minutes before.

It was not in the order of things that the lads should be able to make
their way through the woods and undergrowth with anything like the speed