“’ I have none.’
“‘What?—all alone!”
“‘Yes.’
“‘Where are you going?’
“‘Anywhere.’
“‘And what have you come here for?’
“‘To hunt.’
“‘Well,’ said he, laughingly, ‘you’ll make a real hunter; there’s no mistaking that! Have you killed anything?’
“‘Nothing but a turkey; I can’t get within shot of a deer: they are always running.’
“‘Oh, I’ll tell you the secret of that. You’re always pushing forward, and starting the deer at a distance, and gazing at those that are scampering; but you must step as slow, and silent, and cautious as a cat, and keep your eyes close around you, and lurk from tree to tree, if you wish to get a chance at deer. But come, go home with me. My name is Bill Smithers; I live not far off: stay with me a little while, and I’ll teach you how to hunt.’