"But I didn't hear any shot," interrupted Tom. "I've been listening, too."
"Good reason why, because it was way over in another basin," answered his brother. "It must have been all of three miles from here, don't you think so, Bill?"
"Easily."
"Then how did you follow it?" demanded Horace.
"By its blood and where its leg dragged."
"Well, I'm glad you found the poor creature and put it out of misery," declared his father. "That's the only objection I have to deer hunting—the animals have such wonderful vitality that they travel miles and miles after being crippled and then drop from exhaustion, like this one. As a usual thing, I don't allow any one to fire at a deer unless at short range. I made an exception this morning, but I never will again."
"We didn't bring much of the meat back, it was too long a haul," said Bill after he had partially satisfied his hunger.
"We have plenty," returned his father. "In fact, we have so much that we won't fire at any more deer."
"Then what can we hunt?" protested Horace.
"Bear," returned his father.