"Don't you get lost, now," cautioned Walter.

"No danger. And I'll bring back something to eat, you take my word
for that."

Ned, with rifle thrown over his left arm, stepped boldly from the
camp, heading west, reasoning that this direction would take him into
the heart of the mountains where he would be more likely to find game.

An hour passed; then they heard a gun.

"He's shot something," exulted Walter.

"At something, you mean," corrected Chunky.

A second shot followed quickly on the first, then a third one.

"Guess you're right, Chunky," smiled Walter.

Later on they heard three more shots.

"That sounded a long way off," mused Walter. "I'm afraid he is
getting too far from camp."

Chunky nodded thoughtfully.

"He thinks he can shoot, but he can't. I wish I had a fish line. I'd
go down to the river in the gorge there and see if I couldn't catch a
fish. Maybe I can fix up something that will--"