“Brother!” Mike muttered. “This is work!”
“We can always go back if you don’t think it’s worth it,” Hank called back. He was almost fifty yards ahead of them, moving through the tangled underbrush with comparative ease.
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Mike replied. “I just wish I could get one hand free. I’ve got a terrible itch on my right shoulder blade.”
“You would think of that at a time like this!” Sandy said.
“Just keep moving, please,” Mike said. “That’s a beautiful boot you’ve got on, but not in my face.”
“Hey, boys!” It was Hank calling from up ahead.
“What?” Sandy said.
“I’m going on and spot the goat,” he said. “I want some time to figure out the best stalk for the shot. It’s a little clearer up ahead, so you won’t have too much trouble. Just keep coming as fast as you can and I’ll meet you at the top.”
“Okay,” Sandy yelled. “We’ll see you up there.”
“You’re sure you can find the way?”