d, we
set fire to our torch, and in a few moments the blaze threw its glaring
circle around us, painting with vermilion tints the trunks of the great
trees.

"In this way we proceeded onward, advancing slowly, and with as little
noise as possible. We talked only in whispers, keeping our eyes turned
upon all sides at once. But we walked and walked, up hill and down
hill, for, I should say, ten miles at the least; and not a single pair
of bright orbs answered to our luminary. Not a deer's eye reflected the
blaze of our torch.

"We had kept the fire replenished and burning vividly to no purpose,
until hardly a knot remained in the bag.

"I had grown quite tired in this fruitless search. So had my companion,
and both of us felt chagrin and disappointment. We felt this the more
keenly as there had been a `supper-wager' laid between us and our
friends, as to what party would kill the greatest number of deer, and we
fancied once or twice that we heard shots far off in the direction the
others had gone. We were likely to come back empty-handed, while they,
no doubt, would bring a deer each, perhaps more.

"We were returning towards the point from which we had started, both of
us in a most unamiable mood, when all at once an object right before us
attracted my attention, and brought me to a sudden halt. I did not wait
to ask any questions. A pair of small round circles glistened in the
darkness like two little discs of fire. Of course they were eyes. Of
course, they were the eyes of a deer.

"I could see no body, for the two luminous objects shone as if set in a
ground of ebony. But I did not stay to scan in what they were set. My
piece was up. I glanced hastily along the barrel. I sighted between
the eyes. I pulled the trigger. I fired.

"As I did so, I fancied that I heard my companion shouting to me, but
the report hindered me from hearing what he said.

"When the echoes died away, however, his voice reached me, in a full,
clear tone, pronouncing these words:--

"`Tarnation, doctor! You've shot Squire Robbins's bull!'

"At the same time the bellowing of the bull, mingling with his own loud
laugh, convinced me that the hunter had spoken the truth.

"He was a good old fellow, and promised to keep dark; but it was
necessary to make all right with `Squire Robbins.' So the affair soon
got wind, and my torch-hunt became, for a time, the standing joke of the
settlement."

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

D