CHAPTER I
IN THE FOREST
"Do you think we'll bag a deer to-day, Henry?"
"I'll tell you better about that when we are on our way home, Dave. I certainly saw the hoof-prints down by the salt lick this morning. That proves they can't be far off. My idea is that at least three deer are just beyond the lower creek, although I may be mistaken."
"I'd like to get a shot at 'em. I haven't brought down a deer since we left the army."
"Well, I reckon we had shooting enough in the army to last us for a while," returned Henry Morris, grimly. "I know I got all I wanted, and you got a good deal more."
"But it wasn't the right kind of shooting, Henry. I always hated to think of firing on another human being, didn't you?"
"Oh, I didn't mind shooting at the Indians—some of 'em don't seem to be more than half human anyway. But I must say it was different when it came to bringing down a Frenchman with his spick
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