"No, I was only testing it, to see how soft it was," growled Whopper.
Soon the two boys found themselves going up a small hill. The climb was rather discouraging, until Whopper let out a soft cry, and then motioned for silence.
"See 'em?" queried his chum, in a whisper.
"No, but there are the tracks, as plain as day!"
Whopper was right, the deer tracks were there, although partly covered by the falling snow. At the sight of them the spirits of the boy hunters arose wonderfully. They forgot how tired they were, and pushed forward at a faster gait than ever before.
"Won't we surprise them when we come back with such game!" said Shep.
"I think so, Shep. They didn't really think we'd get anything," answered Whopper.
On and on went the boys, the trail of the deer becoming plainer at every step. They did not notice how much ground they were covering nor in what direction they were moving. They had "deer fever" and had it hard.
Presently they came to the top of the rise of ground. Beyond was a patch of scrub timber, where, years before, a forest fire had wiped out the best of the trees. Looking ahead they saw four deer walking slowly along near some brushwood.
"There they are!" cried Shep, and brought his gun around for use.