They walked along the hill, and at last came to something that looked a little like a trail. Then they went forward once more, covering a good mile. The vicinity was full of rocks, and they had to pick their way with care, for fear of tumbling down into a crevice, or twisting an ankle.
"This is growing worse, Whopper," said Giant, coming to a halt for breath. "I had no idea it was so rough, had you?"
"No. One thing is certain—-we are not on the trail."
"Just what I was thinking."
"We are getting deeper and deeper into this mess. We'll have to turn back."
"And without that deer! That's too bad!"
"We may see the deer elsewhere."
They walked on a hundred feet further, reaching an opening surrounded by rocks on every side. Here was a tall tree, with branches hanging low to the ground.
"I'm going up into the tree and look around," said Whopper.
He hung his rifle on one of the limbs and began the ascent. Giant did likewise, and soon the pair were close to the top of the tree.