'Now, you see,' said Dick, suiting the action to the word, 'in go the pebbles and the water begins to sing; as soon as the first lot get dark and cool, out they come, and in goes another lot. If you pour the water over your toes by accident, you'll find it piping hot, I promise you; and when you've done doing that and can spare time to look at the bottom of the kettle, you'll find that it ain't got no hole in it.' 'Bully for you, Dick,' assented Towzer, 'your youth doesn't appear to have been as much wasted as I thought it had been.' 'Why don't you give the brat a taste of the lash-rope, Dick? it would do him a world of good.' 'I make a practice never to squash a 'skeeter as long as it only buzzes,' replied Wharton, laughing; 'when it stings, I'm theer, you bet.' 'Snap doesn't seem to be having any luck with the deer,' Frank remarked after a while. 'No,' replied the other; 'I've not heard his rifle myself, but I reckon he's got a bluff between us and him, and then, like enough, we wouldn't hear with that chatterin' young jay-bird anywheres near.' As the sun was setting, Snap was seen coming down a long glade towards the camp. 'Don't carry his tail in the air, does he?' remarked Towzer. 'I don't believe he has got a thing.' 'He can't have been out three hours here without getting a shot, I'll lay a wager,' said Wharton. 'He's all right, I can see something hanging on his shoulders,' said Frank. 'So can I now,' added Wharton, 'but it's not venison, it's only fool-hens, I'm thinking.' 'A jolly sight better too,' remarked Towzer, smacking his lips greedily. 'What sport, Snap?' they asked as he came up. 'Well,' replied the hunter, throwing down three big blue grouse by the fire, and leaning on his rifle, 'that's the bag.' 'Wal! but you don't mean to say you didn't see any deer?' exclaimed Wharton. 'Why, man, the park is full of them. Couldn't you hit 'ein?' Snap put his finger in the muzzle of his Winchester, and held it up unsoiled. 'Never fired a shot, Dick,' he said. 'I stoned those fool-hens coming home, and my arm regularly aches with shying at them; but I can't understand about the deer.' 'Why, how do you mean?' someone asked. 'Well, going from here towards what you call the "Lone Mountain," the wind would be right for me, wouldn't it?' 'Slap in your teeth; couldn't be better, what there is of it,' replied Dick. 'Well, and yet every deer I saw had its head up; almost every one was going at a canter; and, though, I dare say, at one time and another, I must have seen forty, I never got what I should call a fair shot. You see, we've no cartridges to waste, and I wanted to kill clean, so as to get back at once to camp.' 'Didn't see no sign of bar or painter about, did you?' asked Wharton. 'No,' replied Snap; 'I suppose that is what must have been the matter, but I saw no sign.' Old Wharton looked grave for a minute or two, but presently, after lighting his pipe, seemed to think better of it.