After this they walked on with more caution. The day was a perfect one, the sun being clouded just enough to take away the dazzling glare of the snow’s crust. On every side arose the tall, gaunt trunks of the leafless trees, with here and there the tops of bushes and the sharp points of windswept rocks.
As they advanced they kept their eyes open for the appearance of game. The first thing to come to view was a partridge sitting low on a hemlock.
“Don’t fire!” cried Joe, as Harry caught hold of his gun.
“Why not?”
“We are out for big game this trip, and if you fire you may scare away something much better.”
“That’s true,” said Harry, and let the gun down. “But it was a fine chance,” he grumbled.
“When a gambler plays for pounds he doesn’t mind the pennies, Harry. Come on after those deer and that bear.”
The partridge flew away, and the landscape became as lonely as before. At a great distance they saw some birds circle in the air, but the game did not pass anywhere near them.
“Oh, you needn’t be afraid,” growled Harry, “we are not going to harm a feather of you to-day. Sir Joseph is after six deer and nine bear.”
“See here, Harry, do you want the birds?” demanded Joe sharply; “if you do, blaze away.”