ts, as soon as their shining eyes become visible.

The party divided. Gordon and Nasmyth, who kept near each other, fell
over several rotting trees, and into what appeared to be crumbling
drains. They floundered knee-deep through withered timothy, which is
not a natural grass. For an hour or two nobody saw any deer. Then
Gordon, who was cautiously skirting another drain, closed in on
Nasmyth until he touched his comrade. Nasmyth heard a crackling rustle
among the withered grass. Gordon made a little abrupt movement.

"If we both blaze off, we double the odds on our getting it," he
said.

Nasmyth only just heard him, for his heart was beating with
excitement; but as he stood knee-deep in the grass, with both hands
ready to pitch the heavy rifle up, it seemed to him that Mattawa could
not have been correct when he said that there were only the Bush deer
about. Judging by the noise it was making, the approaching beast, he
thought, must be as big as a wapiti. Then he saw two pale spots of
light, which seemed curiously high above the ground.

"I'm shooting," he said, and in another moment the butt was into his
shoulder.

He felt the jar of it, but, as usual in such cases, he heard no
detonation, though the pale flash from Gordon's rifle was almost in
his eyes. He, however, heard the thud of the heavy bullet, and a
moment or two later, a floundering amidst the grass.

"That can't be a Bush deer!" he cried.

"It sounds 'way more like an elephant," said Gordon, with a gasp.

They ran forward until they stopped a few yards short of something
very big and shadowy that was still struggling in the grass. Gordon
cautiously crept up a little nearer.

"Those aren't deer's horns, anyway," he announced. "Plug it quick. The
blamed thing's getting up."

Nasmyth flung the rifle up to his shoulder, and twice jerked a fresh
cartridge into the chamber, but this time there was silence when the
crash of the heavy Marlin died away among the woods. They crept
forward a little further circumspectly, until Gordon stopped again
with a gasp of consternation.

"Well," he said, "I guess it couldn't be either a Bush deer or a
wapiti."

They were still standing there when their comrades came running up,
and Mattawa, who took down his light, broke into a great hoarse
laugh.

"A steer!" he said, and pointed to a mark on the hide. "One of
Custer's stock. Guess he'll charge you quite a few dollars for killing
it."

Nasmyth smiled somewhat