"Think I know where there's a b'ar hole," remarked Tim Sladder, in a casual way, as he began to eat with much eagerness a plate of rabbit stew. "Me an' Billy seen it yesterday mornin'."
"My eye! That's what I like to hear," said Hackett, enthusiastically. "Anybody can crack a six ounce rabbit. I'm for heavy-weight game."
"And I'm for eating all kinds," put in Dave Brandon, with a laugh.
"If we don't bring down a deer or two, I'll be disappointed," added Bob.
"I've bagged 'em," began Billy Musgrove, as he leaned over and helped himself to another plate of stew, "an' 'tain't so easy as you think, Plummers. No, sir; I remember once, me an' my dad, an' say—talk about shootin', there ain't none can beat him—well, we spotted a herd of deer in the distance, an', as luck would have it, the wind was just right."
Musgrove paused, and seeing that his hearers were displaying a proper amount of interest, was about to continue, when, with startling abruptness, a series of the most discordant, rasping cries came from the depths of the woods.
CHAPTER XI
A NIGHT ALARM
"What in the world is that?" cried Tommy Clifton, aghast.