ur hundred yards away. I brought him down the first shot."

"Oh, come now, Sarge!" teased Private Johnson.

"I fired two shots, but the first toppled him," insisted Hal. "Come,
look here."

Hal Overton halted under the trees, pointing with his torch.

It was certainly a fine, sleek, heavy buck to which Hal pointed.

"But you didn't need all of us to carry it in, did you?" demanded one of
the men.

"Not exactly," laughed Hal happily. "Swing on to the buck, a couple of
you, and come along. I'll tell you the rest. Just after I fired the
second shot I heard a growl close to me. Less than a hundred yards away
I heard a sound of paws moving toward me. Then I saw him. There he is."

Sergeant Overton's torch now lit up the carcass of a dead brown bear,
one of the biggest that any of them had ever seen.

"And right behind him," went on Hal, "was Mrs. Bruin. I can tell you, my
nerve was beginning to ooze. But I fired--and here's the lady bear."

Sergeant Hal led his soldier friends to the second bear carcass.

"But it wasn't more than a second or two later," laughed Hal, though
some of the soldiers now noticed the quiver in his voice, "that I began
to think some one had locked me in with a menagerie and turned the key
loose. Just beyond were a he-bear and two more females, and they were
plainly some mad and headed toward me."

"Whew!" whistled Lieutenant Prescott. "What did you do?"

"Shook with the buck fever," admitted the boyish sergeant, with a laugh.
"I'm not joking, either. I didn't expect to get back to camp alive, for
it was growing dark in here under the trees, and I knew I couldn't
depend on my shooting. I'm almost afraid I closed my eyes as I fired and
kept firing. But, anyway----"

Hal stopped, holding his torch so as to show the carcass of another male
bear. Not many yards away lay two females.

"An antelope and five bears!" gasped Lieutenant Prescott. "Sergeant
Overton, you've qualified for the sharpshooter class in two minutes!"

"I don't claim any credit for the last three bears," insisted Hal. "I
simply don't know how I hit 'em. It wasn't marksmanship, anyway."

"Nonsense!" spoke Prescott almost sharply. "It was clever shooting and
uncommonly brave work."

"Brave, sir?" retorted Hal, laughingly. "Lieutenant, do you note how my
teeth are still chattering? I'm shaking all over, still, for that
matter."

"Talk until morning light comes, and you can't throw any discredit
either on your shooting o