“I think just the same way you do, Frank,” Jerry remarked; “and if you asked me to say when, I’d guess it was going to strike us before night.”
“We’ve got off pretty fortunately so far about storms,” Bluff went on, as he threw another armful of fuel on the already huge pile.
“If it does come down on us,” Frank continued, “we’ll not lack for fresh meat, anyway. That was a lucky shot you made yesterday, Bluff. The buckshot shell did the business, too, for after you fired both barrels the buck went down with a crash.”
“And to think it happened so near our camp that we managed to tote the whole carcass to the cabin,” and Bluff looked with pride in his eyes toward a deer that was hanging, in real sportsman style, from a limb, head downward.
“If we don’t get another while we’re up here in the Big Woods,” said Jerry, suppressing the natural twinge of jealousy he felt, “we ought to be satisfied with our bag. And Will is just wild over the bully pictures he’s accumulating every day and night.”
“It does seem as though he had met with nothing but success, so far,” Frank admitted. “I hope he gets that prize the railroads are offering. So far as I can tell he has a dandy collection already, and we’ve got some time ahead of us still.”
“By the way, where is Will now?” asked Bluff,
“About half an hour ago he told me he was going off to the place where we discovered that comical colony of squirrels that amused us yesterday,” Frank explained. “He hoped by keeping as still as a mouse to get a snap at them when they were carrying on that way. I think myself it would be a fine woods picture, and add to his collection.”
“Speaking of angels, and you’re most sure to hear their wings,” chuckled Jerry; “for there’s Will coming this way now.”
“And on the run, too!” added Frank. “He looks excited, fellows. I wonder what he’s run across now?”