took him some seconds of time to survey the whole surface of the
glade; but when he had finished his scrutiny, a shadow of disappointment
might have been seen passing over his countenance. There was no game
there--neither kakur nor animals of any other kind.

Not without a certain feeling of chagrin did the young hunter perceive
that the opening was empty: for, to say nothing of the annoyance he felt
on not being able to procure a joint of venison for breakfast, he had
been flattering himself that, from his superior knowledge of the ground,
he would be the first to find the material for their matutinal meal--
about which he had some little feeling of hunter-pride and rivalry.

He did not permit this preliminary disappointment to rob him of all
hope. If there were no kakur within the glade, there might be some in
the bushes near its edge; and perhaps, by adopting the decoy he had
several times already practised--that of imitating their call--he might
entice one out into the open ground.

Acting upon this idea, he squatted close behind the bush, and commenced
barking, as near as he could, _a la kakur_.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE DOUBLE DECOY.

It was some considerable time before he heard any response to cheer him,
or observed any sign that indicated the presence or proximity of an
animal.

He repeated his bark many times, with intervals of silence between--and
was about yielding to the conviction, that not only the open ground, but
the bushes around it, were going to draw blank.

He had uttered his last bark, with all the alluring intonation that he
could throw into the sound; and was about starting to his feet to
proceed elsewhere, when just then the real cry of the kakur responded to
his feigned one--apparently coming from out the thicket on the opposite
side of the glade.

The sound was heard only faintly, as if the animal was at a great
distance off; but Caspar knew that if it was a response to his call--
which he believed it to be--it would soon draw nearer. He lost no time,
therefore, in giving utterance to a fresh series of barks of the most
seductive character; and then once more strained his ears to listen for
the reply.

Again the barks of the kakur came back upon the breeze--repeated
serially, and so resembling his own, that had Caspar not known that they
proceeded from the throat of a deer, he might have fancied them to be
echoes. He did not allow many seconds to elapse before barking again,
a