"Oh, me, oh, my! I suppose I must take you home to our lodge to take care of," relented Phil, "though I am sure that Miss Jenny Ann will not rejoice at another mouth to feed." Phil carefully emptied the barrels of her rifle so as not to endanger her own life. She took some stout twine out of her pocket and swung her rabbit around her neck. She fastened her gun to her side in awkward fashion with another piece of cord, so as to leave both arms almost free. Then Phil stooped and picked up the poor little fawn. It struggled at first and kicked its feeble legs. But after a little it was too weak and feeble for further resistance. It lay quite still. In spite of this, Phil's return home began to grow difficult. She had never carried such an uncomfortable baby before. Yet she had often shouldered the twins at home, and had borne them both, kicking and wriggling with delight, about the garden. But this burden was such an odd and unaccustomed shape! Phyllis sat down on a log under a chestnut tree and regaled herself with chestnuts while she rested. She was beginning to be afraid she would be late for luncheon at their lodge and she was ravenously hungry. Perhaps one of the girls would come out to look for her. Miss Jenny Ann and her girls had been living an enchanted life for the past fortnight. Not a single human being had they seen since their strange arrival on the unknown island. They had been deep into the woods on both sides of their lodges. They had wandered up and down the shore that sheltered their deserted "Merry Maid." But they had not yet crossed to the opposite side of the island. The way was jungle-like and untrodden. Miss Jenny Ann feared that, once lost, they would never find their way back to their shelter again. So far she hoped for rescue from a ship that must some day pass within range of the island. She believed the other shore to be as deserted as the one on which the "Merry Maid" had landed. "Madge and Lillian must have finished with their fishing hours ago," reflected Phil. "I must not be so lazy; I must hurry along home." Phyllis had placed her burden on the ground. She leaned over to pick it up. A sound of human voices smote her ear. The voices were not those of any member of the houseboat party. They were the voices of men. Phil was startled--the sound was so unexpected and surprising. Without an instant's hesitation she slipped behind the giant chestnut tree and crouched low on the ground. The men were coming nearer. She had not been dreaming. It occurred to Phyllis at once that these men must be game-keepers, who had been sent to explore the island to see if any one had been shooting the game before the hunting season opened. And here was Phyllis Alden with a dead rabbit swung over one shoulder and a live fawn in her arms! Had Phil stopped to consider she might have known that she could easily explain her presence to the men. But she did not stop to think, for she was much too frightened.