"And now it may die of thirst," added Mark.
"I wish we had a pail along. We might take some water back to camp."
"A pailful wouldn't be enough. Come on—we must get the news to the others as soon as we can. They will be worrying every minute while we are gone."
They started to leave the vicinity of the spring when they heard a clatter on the rocks.
"That deer must be coming!" whispered Bob.
"If so, maybe I'll get a shot," said Maybe Dixon.
He raised his hand for silence, and all became quiet. The clatter of hoofs continued, and then came a snort of commingled disappointment and anger. Looking up, they saw a big elk standing and gazing at them. Then another elk appeared and soon a third and a fourth.
"Hullo, what does this mean?" whispered Bob.
"It must be their drinking place," said Mark. "And they don't like it that we are here."
"Look out! They mean fight!" exclaimed Maybe Dixon, and raising his rifle he fired at the elk nearest to him. The animal staggered and fell over the pool. Then it arose, gave a snort, and plunged with lowered antlers directly for Mark.