A look of disappointment came over the face of the guide, and George at once subsided into gloomy silence.
“I hit him, I tell you,” Ed declared, emphatically. “He fell and then jumped up and ran off.”
“Where was he standing?” Ben asked, a bit more hopefully.
Ed got his bearings from the rock on which he had been sitting, and went over to about where he thought the buck had been when he had fired at it.
Ben stooped over and scanned the ground closely in a wide circle. He was silent for some minutes while thus engaged; then he straightened, laughing, and pointed to a low bush beside them.
“You hit him, sure, and hit him hard,” he declared. “And we’ll get him—he’s shot through the lungs!”
The boys looked at the bush and saw several red splashes on its brown leaves. Following close behind Ben, who was crouching along near to the ground, they saw other darker spots at their feet.
“He won’t run very far. I started him in a swamp. Just got a glimpse of him as I was crawling under a fallen tree-top, and couldn’t shoot,” Ben explained.
“My, he’s big!” said Ed.
“Better not talk any more now,” the guide cautioned them, looking keenly ahead.