wound in and out among the rocks bordering
the stream. They passed the shack which Roger and the girls had used as
a shelter from the storm, and then reached an open spot. Beyond was a
high hill, covered with a primeval forest.

"There ought to be some game in that woods," said Dave, as they
continued to move forward.

"If the cowboys haven't shot everything worth shooting," answered the
senator's son. "There used to be good hunting in Maine and in Upper New
York State, but you have got to tramp a good many miles these days
before you catch sight of anything worth while."

After a ride in the sun it was cool and pleasing in the forest, and they
took their time riding under the great trees, some of which must have
been fifty to a hundred years old. They saw a number of birds flitting
about, but did not attempt to bring any down.

"If we want any big game we must keep quiet," said Dave, and after that
they moved along without speaking, and with their eyes and ears on the
alert for the first sign of something worth shooting.

Presently Dave held up his hand and all came to a halt. Not far away
could be heard a curious drumming sound.

"What's that?" whispered Phil.

"Sounds like grouse," answered Dave. "They drum like that sometimes.
They must be over in the trees yonder. Let us dismount and see."

The others were willing, and leaving their horses tied to the trees, the
three boys crept forward to the spot from which the drumming proceeded.
They came up abreast, and soon all caught sight of a number of grouse of
the sharp-tailed variety, huddled in a little opening among the bushes.

"Get ready and fire when I give the word," whispered Dave, and a few
seconds later all three of the chums blazed away simultaneously. There
was a fluttering and more drumming, and several grouse thrashed the
ground.

"Hurrah! we've got four!" cried Roger, rushing forward.

"And this one makes five!" said Phil, and dispatched one that was
fluttering around. Then Dave killed a sixth, and by that time the rest
of the game was out of sight.

CHAPTER XXI

A WILDCAT AMONG THE HORSES

The bringing down of the grouse filled the boys with satisfaction, and
they inspected the game with much interest.

"They'll make fine eating," declared Roger.

"Let us see if we can't get some more," pleaded Phil. The "fever" of
hunting had taken possession of him.

"We'll not find much in this neighborhood," said Dave. "But I am willing