gusted,
but on looking up found that the grouse was still sitting there, filled
apparently with more curiosity than alarm. Seeing this he advanced to
within a few yards of the bird, and, substituting a blunt arrow for the
sharp one, discharged it with vigour. It hit the grouse on the left
eye, and brought it to the ground like a stone.

"Good, that's `number one,'" muttered the lad as he fastened the bird to
his belt; "hope `number two' is not far off."

"Number two" was nearer than he imagined, for four other birds of the
same kind rose a few yards ahead of him, with all the noise and flurry
that is characteristic of the species.

They settled on a tree not far off, and looked about them.

"Sit there, my fine fellows, till I come up," muttered Roy. (The lad
had a habit of speaking to himself while out hunting.)

They obeyed the order, and sat until he was close to them. Again was
the blunt arrow fitted to the string; once more it sped true to its
mark, and "number two" fell fluttering to the ground.

Now, the grouse of North America is sometimes a very stupid creature.
It literally sits still to be shot, if the hunter is only careful to
fire first at the lowest bird of the group. If he were to fire at the
topmost one, its fluttering down amongst the others would start them
off.

Roy was aware of this fact, and had aimed at the bird that sat lowest on
the tree. Another arrow was discharged, and "number three" lay
sprawling on the ground. The blunt arrows being exhausted, he now tried
a sharp one, but missed. The birds stretched their necks, turned their
heads on one side, and looked at the lad, as though to say, "It won't
do,--try again!"

Another shaft was more successful. It pierced the heart of "number
four," and brought it down like a lump of lead. "Number five" seemed a
little perplexed by this time, and made a motion as though it were about
to fly off, but an arrow caught it in the throat, and cut short its
intentions and its career. Thus did Roy bag, or rather belt, five birds
consecutively. [See note one.]

Our hero was not one of those civilised sportsmen who slaughter as much
game as they can. He merely wanted to provide food for a day or two.
He therefore turned his steps homeward--if we may be allowed the
expression--being anxious to assist his sister in making the hut
comfortable.

As he walked along, his active mind ran riot in many eccentric channels.
Those who take any interest