an
imaginary bounding deer.

"All right. I'll crack him!" he promised.

"Now, for the Lord's sake, don't you miss 'im!" Dennis warned. "I don't
want Tom ter have the laugh on us."

The Boy promised, and Dennis called his dogs and hurried into the
bottoms toward the Salt Lick. In half an hour the dogs opened on a hot
trail that grew fainter and fainter in the distance until they could
scarcely be heard. They stopped altogether for a moment and then took up
the cry gradually growing clearer and clearer. The deer had run the
limit of his first impulse and taken the back track, returning directly
over the same trail.

Nearer and nearer the pack drew, the trail growing hotter and hotter
with each leap of the hounds.

The Boy was trembling with excitement. He cocked his gun and stood
ready. Boney lay on a pile of leaves ten feet away quietly dozing.
Louder and louder rang the cry of the hounds. They seemed to be right
back of the hill now. The deer should leap over its crest at any moment.
His gun was half lifted and his eyes flaming with excitement when a
beautiful half grown fawn sprang over the hill and stood for a moment
staring with wide startled eyes straight into his.

The savage yelp of the hounds close behind rang clear, sharp and
piercing as they reared the summit. The panting, trembling fawn glanced
despairingly behind, looked again into the Boy's eyes, and as the first
dog leaped the hill crest made his choice. Staggering and panting with
terror, he dropped on his knees by the Boy's side, the bloodshot eyes
begging piteously for help.

The Boy dropped his gun and gathered the trembling thing in his arms. In
a moment the hounds were on him leaping and tearing at the fawn. He
kicked them right and left and yelled with all his might:

"Down, I tell you! Down or I'll kill you!"

The hounds continued to leap and snap in spite of his kicks and cries
until Boney saw the struggle, and stepped between his master and his
tormenters. One low growl and not another hound came near.

When Dennis arrived panting for breath he couldn't believe his eyes. The
Boy was holding the exhausted fawn in his lap with a glazed look in his
eyes.

"Well, of all the dam-fool things I ever see sence God made me, this
takes the cake!" he cried in disgust. "Why didn't ye shoot him?"

"Because he ran to me for help--how could I shoot him?"

Dennis sat down and roared:

"Well, of all the deer huntin', this beats me!"

The Boy r