"Oh, well, there's got to be something doing all the time with Lanky, and when it doesn't come along promptly, trust him to rig up a trick to fetch out a little excitement."
"All I hope," added Frank uneasily, "is that he doesn't find he's bitten off more than he can chew this time."
"You don't like the looks of those vultures, then, I take it?" queried Paul.
"No. They're powerful and ugly-tempered birds, Paul. There, the boldest in the bunch has dropped down, and is heading up to his feed trough again, with those queer jumps and his wings flopping, as if in challenge to the gang to beat him to it."
"Yes, and the rest have forgotten their alarm, for they're dropping down in hot haste. I reckon they're afraid that chap will gobble the whole meal before they can carry off a snack. Now one curious bird is making for that fresh deer-hide, thinking it's manna that dropped down from the clouds. What fool game has Lanky got up his sleeve?"
"No telling," was the brief reply.
A couple of minutes passed. Then suddenly the entire assemblage of giant birds once more jumped off the ground, just as the boys had often seen buzzards do, to start their circling again on wide-spread pinions.
"Look! Oh, look, Frank," cried the excited Paul. "Lanky's slipped a noose around the leg of that biggest one, for it's only gone up a short way and is beating its wings like a crazy thing! There's Lanky now, trailing along the ground. But, Frank, why's he going feet first?"
"He's made a fool play, and got the rope twisted around one of his legs!" exclaimed the astounded as well as alarmed Frank. "He's being dragged along by the vulture! Paul, he may be killed!"