Whopper's rifle. Before the echoes had died away the last of the deer
leaped high in the air, made a part turn and then came down heavily.
Then it got up, ran several paces and fell again and began to kick.

"I hit him!"

"So did I!"

"Let's try for another!"

But to try for another was out of the question. With the fall of the
hind one, the others reached the shelter of the dense timber and in a
second more were completely out of sight, and running as only
frightened deer can run when they know it is a case of life or death
for them.

When the two young hunters reached the side of the fallen deer it was
just breathing its last.

The bullet from the rifle had entered its side and the buckshot had
struck in the neck and shoulder.

"We both brought him down," said Shep.

"Pity we didn't get the others," grumbled Whopper.

"Well, one is better than nothing."

"Oh, I know that, and I am thankful as far as that goes. Will it be
worth while to go after the others, do you think?"