"No, but we have a'most. It's a great place for rabbits, when you get there. Halloo! Ponto's started one! Come on, Port!"
They did not really need to stir a foot, for the swift little animal the dog had disturbed from his seat among the bushes was running his best right toward them.
"There he is!" shouted Porter.
"Try him, Port."
"No, you try him."
Corry's gun was at his shoulder, and in another second the bright flash leaped from the muzzle.
"Did you hit him? He didn't stop running: he kept right on."
"Missed him, I guess. Too many trees, and it was a pretty long shot."
"Why, it didn't seem far."
"Didn't it? That's 'cause it was over the snow: it was more'n ten rods. Hark! hear Ponto!"