le was made, "No stepping up nearer than fifteen paces."

The game grew as they followed it. Its resemblance to real hunting was
very marked. The boys found that they could follow the trail, or sweep
the woods with their eyes as they pleased, and find the game, but the
wisest way was a combination. Yan was too much for the trail, Sam
too much for the general lookout, but Guy seemed always in luck. His
little piglike eyes took in everything, and here at length he found a
department in which he could lead. It looked as though little pig-eyed
Guy was really cut out for a hunter. He made a number of very clever
hidings of the Deer. Once he led the trail to the pond, then, across,
and right opposite he put the Deer in full view, so that they saw it
at once in the open; they were obliged either to shoot across the
pond, or step farther away round the edge, or step into the deep
water, and again Guy scored. It was found necessary to bar hiding the
Deer on a ridge and among stones, because in one case arrows which
missed were lost in the bushes and in the other they were broken.

They played this game so much that they soon found a new difficulty.
The woods were full of paper trails, and there was no means of
deciding which was the old and which the new. This threatened to end
the fun altogether. But Yan hit on the device of a different colour
of paper. This gave them a fresh start, but their supply was limited.
There was paper everywhere in the woods now, and it looked as though
the game was going to kill itself, when old Caleb came to pay them a
visit. He always happened round as though it was an accident, but the
boys were glad to see him, as he usually gave some help.

"Ye got some game, I see," and the old man's eye twinkled as he noted
the dummy, now doing target duty on the forty-yard range. "Looks like
the real thing. Purty good--purty good." He chuckled as he learned
about the Deer hunt, and a sharp observer might have discerned a
slight increase of interest when he found that it was not Sam Raften
that was the "crack" hunter.

"Good fur you, Guy Burns. Me an' your Paw hev hunted Deer together on
this very crik many a time."

When he learned the difficulty about the scent, he said "Hm," and
puffed at his pipe for awhile in silence. Then at length:

"Say, Yan, why don't you and Guy get a bag o' wheat or Injun corn for
scent: that's better than paper, an' what ye lay to-day is all clared
up by the birds and Squirre