e to time to wash a
little of the gravel, and pause in likely places, I suddenly drew my
companion's attention to something moving in an open glade dotted with
small pines and bushes, where the stream ran slowly by through quite a
lawn-like stretch.

He threw himself down and I followed his example, watching him as he
crawled forward, taking advantage of every bush and rock, till he
suddenly stopped, aimed, there was a puff of white smoke, and we both
sprang up.

"No miss this time, Mayne," he said, as I reached him. "Look!"

Not above eighty yards away lay a beautiful little deer, quite
motionless, and I forgot the destruction of the graceful little animal
in the longing for a good supper that night.

"Too much to carry back, eh?" he said, as he finished reloading.

"Oh, no," I cried; "we must carry it somehow." And after the meat was
dressed, we divided the load, making two packs of it in the halved skin,
and then began to return, when a part of the stream tempted Gunson to
make a fresh trial.

"Disappointing work," he said, as he waded in. "Sit down and rest, my
lad, for a few minutes. I'll soon see."

But he found nothing, and I sat down in the little gully watching him,
and thinking that the prize he sought to find ought to be very big to
recompense him for the tremendous labour he went through. It was very
still and peaceful; and, hot and tired as I was with walking, I was
turning drowsy, when I heard a voice say loudly--

"I saw the smoke rise quite plainly somewhere here;" and, as I started
up, a tall, grey-haired, severe-looking, elderly man, in leather
hunting-shirt and leggings, and wearing a fur cap, stood before me,
rifle in hand, while another man was coming up not a dozen yards away.

"Hallo!" the first exclaimed, as he glanced from me to my companion, saw
the cut-up deer, and took in Gunson's occupation as it seemed to me in a
sharp glance of his clear grey eyes. "I thought I was right. You fired
half an hour ago?"

"Yes," said Gunson, quietly, "and hit."

"Who are you, stranger, and where are you for?" said the grey-haired
man, in a firm, stern tone of voice, while his companion stood back
leaning on a rifle too, as if waiting to be told to come up.

"English. Travelling and shooting," said Gunson, a little distantly.

"And prospecting," said the new-comer sharply. "Well, have you struck
gold?"

"No," said Gunson. "Have you?"

"No; nor deer either. Not your luck to-day."