Again they went on, and this time scared up several rabbits and also several animals they could not name, so quickly did they disappear again. The boys did not fire, however, being determined to do nothing to scare the deer away, should the game be within hearing.
When, about noon, they came to a clear spring of water, they were glad enough to sit down and rest and partake of their noonday lunch, washing it down with copious draughts of water.
"Folks can say what they please," remarked Whopper, smacking his lips. "When one is good and dry, nothing is so satisfying as a drink of plain, clear water."
"You're right there, Whopper. How some men can prefer liquor is beyond my comprehension."
"They don't know what is good for them, that's why, Giant."
The boys looked around the spring with care and made out several tracks which they thought might belong to a deer. These led along the trail they were following, and once more the boy hunters moved on, refreshed by the rest and the lunch, and cheered by the hope that they might soon get a glimpse of the game they were after.
Less than a quarter of a mile further on they found that the trail came to an abrupt end in something of a glade at the foot of another hill. There had been a landslide during the summer and this had obliterated the path.
"Here's a go!" cried Whopper, gazing around in perplexity. "I suppose old Jack Dalton didn't know about this landslide."
"We must be careful—-if we go on, Whopper. That land may give way. We don't want to get underground again."
"Not much! Once was enough."