"

"Right!" ejaculated the accountant, rising. "I'll just put my odds and
ends out of the reach of the foxes, and then we shall be off."

In a few minutes everything was placed in security, guns loaded,
snow-shoes put on, and the winter camp deserted. At first the walking
was fatiguing, and poor Hamilton more than once took a sudden and
eccentric plunge; but after getting beyond the wooded country, they
found the snow much more compact, and their march, therefore, much more
agreeable. On coming to the place where it was probable that they might
fall in with ptarmigan, Hamilton became rather excited, and apt to
imagine that little lumps of snow which hung upon the bushes here and
there were birds.

"There, now," he cried, in an energetic and slightly positive tone, as
another of these masses of snow suddenly met his eager eye--"that's one,
I'm _quite_ sure."

The accountant and Harry both stopped short on hearing this, and looked
in the direction indicated.

"Fire away, then, Hammy," said the former, endeavouring to suppress a
smile.

"But do you think it _really_ is one?" asked Hamilton anxiously.

"Well, I don't _see_ it exactly, but then, you know, I'm near-sighted."

"Don't give him a chance of escape," cried Harry, seeing that his friend
was undecided. "If you really do see a bird, you'd better shoot it, for
they've got a strong propensity to take wing when disturbed."

Thus admonished, Hamilton raised his gun and took aim. Suddenly he
lowered his piece again, and looking round at Harry, said in a low
whisper--

"Oh, I should like _so_ much to shoot it while flying! Would it not be
better to set it up first?"

"By no means," answered the accountant. "`A bird in the hand,'
etcetera. Take him as you find him--look sharp; he'll be off in a
second."

Again the gun was pointed, and, after some difficulty in taking aim,
fired.

"Ah, what a pity you've missed him!" shouted Harry. "But see, he's not
off yet; how tame he is, to be sure! Give him the other barrel, Hammy."

This piece of advice proved to be unnecessary. In his anxiety to get
the bird, Hamilton had cocked both barrels, and while gazing, half in
disappointment, half in surprise, at the supposed bird, his finger
unintentionally pressed the second trigger. In a moment the piece
exploded. Being accidentally aimed in the right direction, it blew the
lump of snow to atoms, and at the same time, hitting its owner on the
chest with the b