it
had quitted, plunged into another thicket. Alton, who did not see it
come out again, also went in headlong, tripped, and fell upon something
with life in it that struggled spasmodically beneath him. There was no
room to use his rifle, for he and the deer were rolling amidst the fern
together, and while he felt for its throat the long knife came out.
Twice it sank harmlessly amidst the snow and leaves, and then there was
a gurgle, and the man rose stiffly to his feet, with dripping hands and
something smoking on the sleeve of his jacket. He glanced at it
without disgust, and then down at the limp shape, which now lay very
still, almost compassionately.

"Well," he said simply, "it was you or me, and the wolves would have
had you, anyway."

He was busy amidst the bushes for some time, and the light had gone
when he stood up with the deer upon his shoulders and the rifle beneath
it. It would have pleased him better to carry the latter, but the
bushman brings home a deer with its fore-legs drawn over his shoulders
and grasped in front of him. Alton jerked it into the most convenient
position, and then stopped a moment, panting, and glanced about him.
His burden was not especially heavy, but he was weary and his camp was
far away, while, though a half-moon was now growing into brilliancy
above the firs, it was dark below.

"I figure I'd not have to worry quite so much about my supper at
Carnaby," he said, and laughed a little as he floundered stiffly up the
hill.

It was at least an hour later, and he was limping on, encouraging
himself with the expectation of resting in warm repletion beside the
snapping fire, when he entered a denser growth of timber. Alton had
like most of his kind been taught by necessity to hold the weaknesses
of his body in subjection, but he was a man with the instincts of his
fellows, and the thought of the steaming kettle, smell of roasting
meat, glare of flickering light, and snug blankets appealed to him, and
just then he would not have bartered the blackened can of smoke-tasted
tea for all the plate and glass of Carnaby. His step grew a little
steadier, and the sound of the river louder, until he stopped suddenly
near a prostrate fir. There was a gap in the dusky vault above him
through which the moon shone down and called up a sparkle from the thin
scattering of snow. Beyond it the dark trunks stretched back, a
stupendous colonnade, into the shadow again. There was nothing unu