“But what makes you expect they’ll come to drink at that particular place, Micah?”

“You see that pooty steep hill, that slopes up jest back o’ the pint o’ land, don’t ye?  Well, behind that hill which is steeper ’n it looks to be, there’s a largish, level piece of greound that’s been burnt over within a few years, and it’s grown up to tall grass and got a number o’ clumps of young trees on it, and it’s ’bout surreounded by a lot o’ master rocky hills.  That’s the feedin’ greound.  There’s a deep gorge cut right inter that hill, back ’o the pint.  The gorge has a pooty smooth rocky bed.  In the spring o’ the year, there’s a brook runs through there and pours inter the river jest below.  But it’s all dry neow, and the deer, as a gen’al thing scramble eout of their feedin’ place into this gorge and foller it deown to the river to git their drink.  It brings ’em eout jest below the pint.  We have got neow to cross over to the pint, huggin’ the bank, so the critters shan’t see us, and take a shot from there.  Git yer piece ready, Captin.  Ef there’s tew, or more, I’ll hev the fust shot and you the second.  Don’t speak, arter we git on to the pint, the leastest word”.

“I understand”, said John, as he examined his rifle, to see that all was right.

“Now for it”, said Micah, as having finished their arrangements, they entered the canoe.

Silently, they paddled along, sheltered from observation by the little wooded promontory and following as nearly as possible the crankling river as it indented into the land.  In a few minutes, they landed and proceeded noiselessly to get a view of the bank below.

After a moment’s reconnoitre, John turned his face towards Micah with a look of blank disappointment.

But Micah looked cool and expectant.  He merely pointed up the rocky gorge and said under his breath—­

“’T aint time to expect ’em yet.  The wind, what there is on it, is favorable tew,—­it blows right in our faces and can’t kerry any smell of us to ’em.  Neow hide yourself right away.  Keep near me, Captin’, so that we ken make motions to each other”.

In a few moments they had secured their ambuscade, each lying on the ground at full length, concealed by low, scrubby trees.  By a slight turn of the head, each could command a view up the gorge for a considerable distance.

Just as the sun began to show his broad, red disc in the east, new light shot forth from the eyes of the hunters, as they perceived a small herd coming down the rocky pathway.  The creatures bounded along with a wild and graceful freedom, until they reached the debouche of the pass into the valley.  There they paused,—­scanned the scene with eager eyes and snuffed the morning breeze.  The wind brought no tale of their enemies, close at hand, and they bounded on fearlessly to the river’s brink.

It was apparently a family party, a noble buck leading the group, followed by a doe and two young hinds.  They soon had their noses in the stream.  The buck took large draughts and then raising his haughty front, tossed his antlers, as if in defiance, in the face of the god of day.