rit of fight into me, I knocked the stuffing out of
the old fever!"

"That you did!" laughed Arnold. "The doctors said they never saw
anything like your recovery, once you set to work. Well, I'm fixed up
for shooting. Are you all right? Better take hunting-knives. They come
in handy."

"And a repeating rifle, in case of big game. One will be enough; we can
take turns in carrying it."

"All aboard. I'll just see that the camp-fire is properly stamped out,
and then we'll set off."

In a short time all preparations were completed, and the two boys were
ready to enjoy a morning's adventure in any form that it chose to offer.

Having hopes that something bigger than duck or chicken might reward
their efforts, the chums immediately struck inwards through the bush,
following an old trail from a buffalo wallow that was the ancient path
of those bovines when they sought water to drink or mud to wallow in
when the mosquitoes were troublesome.

Beyond chipmunks, gophers, and a single jack-rabbit (the latter falling
to Bob's gun), nothing was met to tempt powder for some time. Then they
reached a large "slough" that in early spring would be a small lake,
though now it was filled with long blue grass and wild lavender. Here
the boys paused as they examined the clearing.

"It's a likely-looking place for rattlesnakes," Bob remarked. "It hardly
seems probable that---- What's that?--Over there in the centre?" The
speaker's voice had suddenly dropped to an excited undertone as he
pointed to a couple of small dark marks that peeped above long grass and
might have been the ends of a broken branch.

Alf stared keenly for a few moments.

"I thought I saw them move----"

"So did I. Wait a minute and we'll make sure."

Keeping as still as statues, the boys waited in silence with both pairs
of eyes steadily fixed upon the dark objects, and the pulses of each
gave a sudden jump, for then the points moved and sank among the long
grass.

"Antelope! Those are horns!" decided Alf, to which Bob returned, with a
sly dig at his chum's ribs--

"'Horns?' _Antlers_, you old duffer! We're not hunting cows!"

"Same thing," was the retort. "Horns or antlers both mean deer in these
parts." Next the boy gave a slight start. "Say! I thought I heard the
branches moving above my head!"

The young hunters turned to look upwards among the dense leaves of a
gigantic maple tree whose lower branches were matted with twining
convolvulus and other w