"One of them critters," growled Hank. "Seems as ef I might be right. He's showing clear, and—yes, there ain't a doubt about it. He's got one arm hung in a sling."
There came an instant response from Beaver Jack, a deep-toned grunt. His keen eyes had evidently taken in all that was passing. "Same man as sit on the sleigh and tumble backwards," he grunted. "Not badly hurt. Bullet make hole through the arm, and that nothing."
"Only it jest makes him useless for the moment. See here," said Hank, "I'll move into the open and give him a shot. Likely as not he'll signal to his comrades."
On second thoughts the little hunter refrained from using his rifle. "I might hit him," he said, "and that ain't what I want. I'll jest let him get a squint at me, so as to make him feel sartin we're remaining here; then I'll hop back till he shows agin. Ah! Ain't that given him pleasure? He's gone into cover, but ef you look close you kin see him just inside the line o' trees wavin'. Gee! Don't they take us fer soft 'uns? As ef a baby wouldn't guess what was up."
There was no doubt now that the enemy, whoever they might be, had taken the course which Hank guessed at. Their design was clear and apparent, for the wounded man made repeated appearances during the next ten minutes, diving into the trees again on each occasion.
"You was sayin' that you had an idea," said Hank at length, stretching himself beside our hero. "What aer that idea?"
"I was thinking of the sort of place that would suit us," began Joe. "It occurred to me that there must be many little hollows which might serve our purpose, provided that they could not be overlooked; for it wouldn't do for these beggars to climb higher and pitch their bullets down upon us."
"That aer sense," agreed Hank. "Wall?"
"But——"
"There aer always a but," asserted the little hunter. "It aer there that gumption always comes in. Nothing goes right and straight in this world unless you help it. A man has to use his wits and his strength most always. What aer this but?"