[CHAPTER IX]
HACKETT'S SHOOTING
Breakfast was eaten with the rising sun. Shortly after, the exhaust of the "Nimrod" sounded and almost immediately she came in view. The work of mooring her alongside the "Rambler" occupied but a short time, whereupon the Trailers, in high spirits, trooped ashore. Bob Somers had kept an eagle eye on their boat during the entire proceeding, in order to make sure that no trick was attempted.
The poet laureate looked at the thick tract of woods ahead, then toward a nice, grassy knoll close by.
"I'll mind the boats," he said, briefly.
"We'll bring our game bags back full to overflowing," volunteered Nat. "Be sure to have a fire big enough to roast an ox."
With long strides, tall and slim John Hackett led the way, causing little Tom Clifton to run occasionally in order to keep pace.
"The best plan is to go as far as possible into the interior," urged Nat; "then we may get a shot at something worth while."
"Yes, what's the use of popping at little two ounce squirrels, when there are bears and wolves around?" said John Hackett, slyly glancing at Tom.