"Fine!" agreed the boys in unison, springing eagerly up from their chairs.
"Well, hustle into your adikeys, then, and we'll try to get to leeward of the old fellow," directed Skipper Ed.
"I hope there'll be a chance for a shot!" Bobby exclaimed excitedly, as they shouldered their rifles and slung cartridge pouches over their shoulders.
"So do I!" agreed Jimmy.
"Just a bare chance," said Skipper Ed, as they passed out into the porch shed and took their snowshoes from the pegs. "It depends upon which way they're traveling."
"Do you think there's more than one?" asked Bobby in an excited undertone, as they swung away on snowshoes.
"Yes, but we'd better not talk now. They're keen, and shy old devils, and they might hear us," warned Skipper Ed.
Cautiously but swiftly they stole out and into the moonlit forest and up into the gulch and along the southern banks of a frozen brook. Now and again Skipper Ed halted, stooping to peer about and along the open space that marked the bed of the stream. Presently he held up his hand as a sign of caution, and crouched behind a clump of brush, motioning the boys to follow his example.
"They're just above us," he whispered. "I saw them moving among the trees, above the bend. They're coming down this way, and they'll come out in that open just ahead of us. Don't shoot till I tell you, but be ready for them, lads."
"How many are there?" Bobby whispered excitedly.