"Why, you're going the wrong way," Walter exclaimed, "or at least it seems the wrong way to me. How do you know you're headed right?" McCarty grinned. "I spent lots of my spare time hunting," he explained, "and most of it was done in a worse country than this, where one could get lost within a couple of hundred yards of camp. That kind of hunting develops a kind of direction instinct, as hunters call it, but which is really a habit of observation. Now I have taken note of every turn we have made to-day, and, although we are not going back the way we came, I'll guarantee that we'll come out within a hundred yards of camp. But I guess I had better stop bragging. I need all my wind to handle this deer." It soon became evident that McCarty was right, and that they were not going to be able to make camp before dark. Indeed, they had covered not more than three miles of the distance when darkness descended upon them. "It's a little risky, but I guess we can push on until the white mist rises," said McCarty, as they halted for a moment to rest. "The moon is bright enough for us to pick our way now, but when the mist rises we will have to make camp for the night. I couldn't trust myself to find my way through the fog." "I don't mind a night out," Walter said, "but I hate to have the Captain worrying about us." "Same here," agreed McCarty. "But that cannot be helped now. Let's push on again, and get as far as we can." "Well, let me take the deer for a while," Walter urged. "Well, I don't mind if you do, for a few minutes," McCarty admitted. "I've carried many a one twice this distance, but that was in the day time. This trying to pick trail and carry too is sure getting my goat." They had not proceeded far before McCarty stopped again. "If I am not badly fooled, there's a campfire right ahead of us," he said. "See that faint glow there in the darkness." "Good," Walter said. "We can perhaps camp for the night with them, whoever they are." "Maybe," agreed his companion doubtfully. "If they are Indians, it is all right, but I am suspicious of white men I meet in this country. We can keep on for a ways, then one of us had better go ahead and investigate before we walk in on them." "That's my part of the job," Walter exclaimed. "I'm a pretty fair scout, if I am not much of a woodsman." "No," contested McCarty. "I'm better used to the kind of people we have in this part of the country than you are." "Let's not quarrel about it," laughed Walter. "We can both go. Whoever they are, they are not likely to hear us above the din of the frogs and owls." As the boys drew nearer to the campfire they became silent, lest the sound of their voices should make their presence known. When some two hundred yards from its glow, they left the deer behind and crept forward on hands and knees.