“There ought to be some rabbits or hares here, under the old brush. Let us walk to the end of the shelter and——”
“There’s something now!” shouted Harry, raising his gun. “Half-a-dozen hares, as sure as you’re born! Quick, Jack!”
Once more the two shotguns spoke, and two of the hares were seen to leap into the air and turn over in a heap. When the two boys reached the spot they found their prizes stone dead, each shot through the head. All the other hares had disappeared behind a thick mass of brush, where they could not follow them.
“Now we’ve got enough, surely,” said Harry, as they divided the game between them. “Wild turkeys, hares, woodcock and an owl, not to mention those sparrows. Who could ask for more?”
Jack did not reply, as he was busy getting out his watch.
“Phew! How late do you suppose it is?” he cried.
“Three o’clock?”
“Quarter-past four! We must start back at once!”
“I should say so!” exclaimed Harry. “It’s going to be a job to get up out of this hollow and find the creek again, and it will be dark before we know it.”
“Not only that; but the snow is coming down in perfect blankets. We’ll be buried in spite of ourselves if we don’t put our best foot forward.”