The little creature seemed to be on the point of leaping off, but, as Hackett remained perfectly still, it apparently took courage, then gazed at the doe with such a mournful expression that the young hunter felt touched.
"Hang it all, Somers," he exclaimed, regretfully, "I wish I hadn't made such a corking good shot. I do—and no mistake."
"A fawn, by George! I thought I saw something moving along back of that bush," cried Bob Somers. "Come here," he said, coaxingly, holding out his hand.
But the small creature leaped lightly aside.
"My eye! I'll take him back with me," declared Hackett. "You bet I will."
"Catch him first," laughed Bob.
"I think we can manage it. See, he hasn't gone far. Leave it to me, Somers. It will be sporting up and down my father's lawn yet."
With an assortment of strange sounds, Hackett stepped forward. But as long as he was in motion the fawn kept moving away, showing no disposition, however, to go very far from the slain doe.
Hackett displayed a great deal of patience, and finally the fawn, apparently realizing that no harm was intended, allowed him to approach.
In the meantime, Bob Somers had made a noose out of a piece of cord, and when the slim boy finally succeeded in coaxing the animal to his side, they managed, by careful work, to slip it over the fawn's neck, and it was then a prisoner.