He knew that Henry would be much disappointed if he was not in at the death. They slowed up and soon the young hunter came in sight.
"Did the elk get away?" he demanded.
"No, he is just ahead," answered Dave. "Don't you hear him?"
"Sure enough. So you waited for me? I'm glad you did."
Away they went in a bunch, until the elk could be heard less than five rods away. Then came a silence.
"He has turned and is going to fight," cried Barringford, and a moment later they came in sight of the elk, backed up against a clump of walnuts, standing at bay, with dilated nostrils and a gaze of mingled alarm and rage in his large, round eyes.
"He is your game, Henry," said Barringford, and Henry took aim promptly at one of those eyes. The elk made a rush, but he was too late. Bang! went Henry's gun. The game gave a wild leap,—and fell dead in his tracks.
CHAPTER VI
SURRENDER OF FORT DETROIT
"A good shot!" cried Dave, as all of the party moved forward to inspect the dead elk.