“You’ve done well, lads, mighty well—in fact, no old hunters could do better.” And Peter Parsons’ face showed his pleasure.
“How many deer were there?” asked Ezra Winship.
“Six, and a magnificent old buck,” answered Joe.
“Oh, why didn’t you try for the buck?” cried Harmony. “I’d like to have a pair of prongs for your coats and hats to hang on.”
“The deer meat is best,” said Mrs. Parsons. “’Tis likely to be very sweet and tender.”
“Yes, but we got the old buck after all,” said Joe, and he could scarcely disguise the tone of triumph in his voice.
“Got the buck?” came from the lad’s father and several of the others.
“Yes,” said Harry. “Joe shot him right through the heart.”
“But not until Harry had wounded him in the leg with a pistol shot,” came quickly from Joe.
And then the two boys had to tell the particulars of the brief hunt. But they did not tell how closely they had been in danger of death, being afraid that if they told all they might be kept from going on another hunt in the future.