of a tiny mountain lake, shining like a beautiful blue jewel in
the dark setting of the pine trees on its banks.

Beyond the lake the purple peaks of higher mountains made a
ragged outline against the sky. The sun was now almost directly
overhead; the waters of the lake were still, and its lovely
shores were mirrored on the placid surface. A great eagle soared
in stately circles in the deep blue sky. It was so beautiful and
so still that the children stood a moment among the rocks where
the tarn emptied itself into the mountain stream to look at it.

"It's just the place for a water cow, or a horse maybe," Jean
whispered to Alan.

"Sh!" was Alan's only reply. He seized Jean's hand and dragged
hear down behind a rock and pointed toward the south. There,
coming out of the woods, was a beautiful stag. It poised its
noble head, and sniffed the air, as if it suspected there might
be human beings about, and then stepped daintily to the lake-
shore and bent to drink. Its lips had scarcely touched the water
when the children were startled by the loud report of a gun.

"Poachers," gasped Jean, hiding her face and wishing they had
never come. "Oh, where are Jock and Sandy?" Her only thought was
to make herself as small as possible and keep out of sight behind
the rocks, but Alan peered through the screen of bushes which hid
the rock and made violent gestures to Jean to make her look, too.
Jean crawled on her hands and knees to Alan's side, and when she
looked, what she saw made her so angry that she would have sprung
to her feet if Alan had not held her down with a fierce grip. The