Meanwhile, the woods boy was in trouble.
He had walked for several miles through the pines, packing that dandy little Marlin repeater belonging to Teddy, and really wishing he might run across a fighting wild cat, or even a panther, though these latter animals were seldom seen in the Michigan woods in late years. Anything in the shape of game that the law did not protect, but paid a bounty for killing—that was the height of Amos’ ambition as he stalked along. For he wanted to see how it felt to use the gun he had always admired so much; and even a fierce lucivee would have been welcomed.
Of course, Amos did not forget for one minute what especial object had lured him abroad on this morning. He kept on the alert to discover traces of wild flowers, and their busy attendants, the little honey gathering, pollen scattering bees.
Strange to say there seemed to be a wonderful dearth of the insects right around that particular section. Amos was at first surprised, and then nettled. He disliked to give any object up so easily; and when noon came it found him with his head still turned away from the camp, and without having met with any success.
Thinking he had better not go further in that direction, Amos began to circle around to the left. This movement would allow of his covering much new ground. Better still, if he kept on, he expected to eventually strike the shore of the lake, at a point, say a mile or two from the camp.
It was a nicely arranged plan, but circumstances which he had never forseen, and over which he really had no control, caused it to miss fire.
There was undoubtedly a whole lot of luck or accident in the way things came about; but then that can be said with regard to nearly every event that occurs. Think of the western railway train that was five minutes behind time, arriving in sight of the station just so that the horrified passengers saw the cyclone tear that building at which they should have been stopping, into a thousand bits. That happened just the other day, out near Omaha, Nebraska.
All of a sudden Amos, sitting on a log and resting, heard a deer jumping. Then came two shots, one close on the heels of the other.
A wounded doe ran out of the scrub and fell dead on the ground not twenty feet away from the boy. Then he heard voices approaching. Amos would have shown his good sense by taking to his heels just then, and vanishing. He did nothing of the kind, only stood there, and waited to see who it was shooting deer out of season, and a doe at that. And like as not Amos would quickly repent him of this unwise, even foolish lack of caution.