In explanation Horace told how they had found the ponies and said they had stayed to quiet them.

“And I’ll wager you’ve been relating some wonderful yarns for Tom’s benefit, judging from the way you received me.  Now, boys,” he continued seriously, “when you are in the mountains you must never talk about things that will excite you.  There are so many things that can happen.  A man always needs to be cool and collected, so that if emergency does arise he can think quickly and well.”

This bit of advice made a deep impression on the lads and they promised to remember it.

The sun was high in the heavens and its heat was becoming terrific.

“Fetch the horses and come into the woods,” commanded Mr. Wilder.  “We’ll get dinner ready and wait for Bill and Larry where it’s cool.”

“Why it’s a quarter of twelve,” said Tom, looking at his watch.  “I had no idea it was so late.”

“Time flies when you are hunting,” returned the ranchman, “a fact that you should remember, and with it that darkness falls quickly in the mountains.”

The ponies were nothing loath to move from the broiling plateau to the cooler woods and stood contentedly, now and then nibbling the leaves and tender twigs from the trees near them.

Lighting a fire, Mr. Wilder soon had a choice slice of venison broiling In the saucepan, and the aroma was so good that the boys could hardly wait to taste the meat.

At last it was ready, and they ate it ravenously.  “How much better it tastes when you’ve shot it yourself,” declared Tom.  “I’ve had venison before, but it wasn’t nearly so good as this.”

“A keen appetite and the mountain air certainly do give a zest to your food,” smiled the ranchman.

“I reckon I’ll put another slice on the fire so it will be ready for the boys when they come.”

But it was fully an hour later before they heard the others hail.

“Up here in the woods,” called back Tom and Horace, running to the edge of the forest to guide them to the camp.

It was several minutes before Larry and Bill came in sight, and before they did the others had learned that they had found the deer Bill thought he had hit.

“I ran across it,” explained Larry.  “It’s hind leg was broken and it was lying down when I came upon it.  The poor thing tried to jump up, but it couldn’t very well.”

“But I didn’t hear any shot,” interrupted Tom.  “I’ve been listening, too.”

“Good reason why, because it was way over in another basin,” answered his brother.  “It must have been all of three miles from here, don’t you think so, Bill?”

“Easily.”

“Then how did you follow it?” demanded Horace.

“By its blood and where its leg dragged.”

“Well, I’m glad you found the poor creature and put it out of misery,” declared his father.  “That’s the only objection I have to deer hunting—­the animals have such wonderful vitality that they travel miles and miles after being crippled and then drop from exhaustion, like this one.  As a usual thing, I don’t allow any one to fire at a deer unless at short range.  I made an exception this morning, but I never will again.”