As they neared the place where they had left their venison hung in a tree, their ears were greeted with a curious sound of mingled grunt and growl.
With their guns ready for instant use, the boys crept cautiously forward. An exclamation burst from them as they came in sight of the tree. Squatted round it in an angry, eager circle was a drove of at least twenty wild boars; great, fierce-looking animals with dangerous looking tusks. They were sniffing longingly, and looking up at the suspended meat.
"Don't shoot, Walt," cried Charley, but his warning came too late.
Without pausing to think, Walter had discharged both barrels of his shotgun at the huddled animals.
The effect was not what he had anticipated. The shot glanced harmlessly off their thick hides, and with grunts of rage, the whole drove charged for the smoke and sound.
"Get up a tree," shouted Charley, as he noted the effects of the shot.
Walter did not wait for a second bidding but swung himself up the nearest tree which happened to be a huge spreading live oak. Charley swarmed up after him in such haste that he dropped his rifle at the foot of the tree. He was not a moment too soon for a large boar made a lunge for his legs just as he drew them up.
"Now we are in for it," he exclaimed in disgust as he found a comfortable seat in the fork of a limb.
"Oh, I guess they'll soon get tired and go away," Walter said cheerfully.
But the boars seemed to have no such intention. They ranged themselves around the foot of the tree as they had around the venison and sat looking longingly up among the branches.