ted to the ground. He had found a
perfectly fresh track, but Van seemed not to comprehend. They went along
it, Rolf softly and silently, Van with his long feet and legs making a
dangerous amount of clatter. Rolf turned and whispered, "That won't
do. You must not stand on dry sticks." Van endeavoured to move more
cautiously and thought he was doing well, but Rolf found it very trying
to his patience and began to understand how Quonab had felt about
himself a year ago. "See," said Rolf, "lift your legs so; don't turn
your feet out that way. Look at the place before you put it down again;
feel with your toe to make sure there is no dead stick, then wriggle it
down to the solid ground. Of course, you'd do better in moccasins. Never
brush past any branches; lift them aside and don't let them scratch;
ease them back to the place; never try to bend a dry branch; go around
it," etc. Van had not thought of these things, but now he grasped them
quickly, and they made a wonderful improvement in his way of going.

They came again to the water's edge; across a little bay Rolf sighted at
once the form of a buck, perfectly still, gazing their way, wondering,
no doubt, what made those noises.

"Here's your chance," he whispered.

"Where?" was the eager query.

"There; see that gray and white thing?"

"I can't see him."

For five minutes Rolf tried in vain to make his friend see that
statuesque form; for five minutes it never moved. Then, sensing danger,
the buck gave a bound and was lost to view.

It was disheartening. Rolf sat down, nearly disgusted; then one of
Sylvanne's remarks came to him: "It don't prove any one a fool, coz he
can't play your game."

Presently Rolf said, "Van, hev ye a book with ye?"

"Yes, I have my Virgil."

"Read me the first page."

Van read it, holding the book six inches from his nose.

"Let's see ye read this page there," and Rolf held it up four feet away.

"I can't; it's nothing but a dim white spot."

"Well, can ye see that loon out there?"

"You mean that long, dark thing in the bay?"

"No, that's a pine log close to," said Rolf, with a laugh, "away out
half a mile."

"No, I can't see anything but shimmers."

"I thought so. It's no use your trying to shoot deer till ye get a pair
of specs to fit yer eyes. You have brains enough, but you haven't got
the eyesight of a hunter. You stay here till I go see if I have any
luck."

Rolf melted into the woods. In twenty minutes Van heard