"All ready here, Max," announced Steve, anxious to start.
So, with a few parting words the two hunters left the vicinity of the cabin in the forest. The others were just about ready to start out to learn what the various traps contained.
"Don't forget about that bear, Uncle Jim!" shouted Steve.
"I sure won't," answered the old man, waving his hand.
"If he's been back over that trail you'll lug out Old Tom and give him a chance to earn his keep, won't you!" pursued Steve.
"That's right, I will."
Satisfied with the answer, Steve followed after Max.
Now, although Steve had shot quail and ducks, rabbits and squirrels, he was not a big-game hunter. As yet he had to secure his first deer. And as the sporting instinct was coming on very markedly in the boy, he was anxious to be able to say he had shot a "lordly" buck.
It was always that, with Steve, whenever he boasted of the great things he intended doing on a projected hunt. No ordinary doe seemed ever to enter into his calculations at all.
"And a five-pronged buck, too," he declared. "I wouldn't waste my precious time with anything less."