one at home in any of the camps
or not, but they'll be glad to see us if they are there. A lot of people
wait until later in the year to come up here--until the hunting season
begins. But we can do some hunting even now, though it's against the law
to do any shooting."

"Oh, I know what you mean, Miss Eleanor--with a camera?"

It was Margery Burton who thought of that.

"Yes. And that's really the best sort of hunting, I think. If you've
ever seen a deer, and had it look at you with its big, soft eyes, I
don't see how you can kill it. It's almost as hard to get a good picture
of e deer as it is to kill it--in fact, I think it's harder, because you
have to get so much closer to it And it's awfully good fun at night.

"You go to one of their runways, and settle down with your camera and a
flashlight powder, and then when the deer comes, if you're very quick,
you can get a really beautiful picture. The deer may be a little
frightened, but he isn't hurt, and you have a picture that you can keep
for years and show to people. And an experienced hunter will tell you
that any time you can get close enough to a deer to get a good
flashlight picture of him you could easily have killed him."

"Why is it so very hard to do that?"

"Well, for lots of reasons. You have to figure on the wind--because if
the wind is blowing away from you and toward the deer he can smell you
long before he's in sight, and off he goes, afraid to come any nearer."

"But how can you tell where a deer will be?"

"They have regular runways--just as we have trails. And at night they
come down to the lake to drink. So you can station yourself on one of
those runways, and be pretty sure that sooner or later a deer will come
along."

The morning passed quickly and happily. To the girls who had never
before been in that country, there seemed to be an unending number of
new discoveries. Timid as the deer might be, there was nothing nervous
about the squirrels and chipmunks which abounded in the woods near the
lake, and as soon as they saw the girls they came running about, so that
there were often half a dozen or more begging noisily for dainties to
afford them a change from their diet of nuts, sitting up, and chattering
prettily as they got the morsels that were tossed to them.

"I never saw them so tame, even at home," said Bessie, surprised. "We
had plenty of them there, but I suppose they were wilder because the
boys used to shoot them. They don't d