“What’s that for?” he whispered, crouching low. “May be a signal.”
For some time he did not move. When at length he ventured to go forward, it was on hands and knees. Down low there were no leaves. Traveling in this manner he made no sound.
Only once his foot touched his rifle, causing a rattling sound.
Stopping dead still, he paused with wildly beating heart to listen.
“What a fool I am,” he told himself at last, “creeping up on some simple innocent people probably. But when a fellow is a hunter, he gets the habit of wanting to have the first look.”
A moment later he did get the “first look.” And at that instant he leaped to his feet and let out a wild shout of laughter.
The only creature to be seen in the bushes was a milk-white reindeer. This deer was hitched to a short, flat sled, such as reindeer herders use. The sled was overturned and had tangled with the willows. Because of this and because of the three inch wide rawhide strap which held him to the sled, the reindeer was unable to move from the spot.
The explanation of the column of vapor was not far to seek. It was merely the deer’s breath rising straight up from the willows. Since it was intensely cold the moisture from his breath froze at once and since there was not a breath of air stirring it could be seen mounting in air for many feet.
“Wouldn’t do to get too close to an enemy on such a day,” he told himself; “he’d spot you in an instant.”
This knowledge was destined to prove of great value to him in the days that were to come.