might be the antlers of the great elk of the period. Between the boys and
the clump of trees there was no movement of the grass, nor any sign of
life. They could discern no trace of any lurking beast.

"Are you afraid?" asked Ab.

"Not if we run together."

"All right," said Ab; "let's go it with a rush."

The slim brown bodies dropped lightly to the ground together, each of the
boys clasping one of the clamshells. Side by side they darted down the
slope and across through the deep grass until the clump of trees was
reached, when, like two young apes, they scrambled into the safety of the
branches.

The tree up which they had clambered was the largest of the group and of
dense foliage. It was one of the huge conifers of the age, but its
branches extended to within perhaps thirty feet of the ground, and from
the greatest of these side branches reached out, growing so close
together as to make almost a platform. It was but the work of a half hour
for these boys, with their arboreal gifts, to twine additional limbs
together and to construct for themselves a solid nest and lookout where
they might rest at ease, at a distance above the greatest leap of any
beast existing. In this nest they curled themselves down and, after much
clucking debate, formulated their plan of operation. Only one boy should
dig at a time, the other must remain in the nest as a lookout.

Swift to act in those days were men, because necessity had made it a
habit to them, and swifter still, as a matter of course, were impulsive