"If they turn him," said Vosh, "he'll have to pass in sight. You may get a shot, deacon. It'll be a long one, but I'd be ready if I was you."
It turned out that way in less than five minutes; for a fine doe came springing across the snow, well ahead of the dogs, and out of "shot-gun range."
"Try her, deacon! There, she's broken through! Try her!"
The deacon's rifle was already at his shoulder, and, just as the beautiful animal scrambled out upon the crust, the sharp "crack" rang through the forest.
"Struck!" shouted Vosh as the doe gave a great spring; but she dashed right onward, followed by the dogs.
"Now, boys, you run while I load."
Port and Corry hardly needed orders; and the main wonder was, that they did not break their necks in the desperate burst they made after that wounded deer. Even Jack could not do his best running over that icy crust, except when travelling in a straight line. He could not turn quickly without slipping; and the doe must have known it, to judge by the manner in which she dodged among the trees.
"Here she comes, right past us!"
Bang! went one barrel of Vosh Stebbins's gun.
"Missed, I declare! Must be I've got the buck-ague."