“Well, I can tell you this,” replied the other; “as soon as the shot came he let out a whoop that had a lot of pain back of it. Then he limped across that little open piece yonder where the moonlight falls on the ground. I reckon his mate was waiting there in the shadows for him, with their own hosses; because I saw the one that was hurt climb on the back of a pony, whirl the animal around, and vanish in the shadows like a ghost. I lifted my gun to shoot, but thought it would be only throwing good lead away, so I held back, hang the luck!” “I don’t see why you should feel so bad about it,” remarked Billie. “Oh! don’t you?” remarked Donald, who was unusually grumpy, Adrian realized. “Why, no,” the fat chum went on to say, “if you had one crack at him, and as you say, managed to give him some sort of a wound that he won’t forget in a hurry; besides chasing the beggars away in the bargain. You hadn’t ought to kick, Donald.” “Well, I wouldn’t, if only I’d had as much fun as you mention,” observed Donald, briskly; “but fact is, fellows, it wasn’t me that fired that shot at all; but it seemed to come from away over yonder. I heard the crack, and looked out just in time to see that limping Injun pass over, and manage to get on his pony. Before I could remember that I held a gun he was gone. And what’s bothering me is, who’s our unknown friend, hiding in the rocks over there?” “Let’s give him a call, and ask him to join us,” suggested Billie, heartily. But although they shouted many times, only dense silence answered them; whoever it was fired that mysterious shot, he evidently did not mean to make himself known. CHAPTER V. RIVAL DEER HUNTERS. “It don’t seem to be any use,” observed Broncho Billie, after they had called out invitingly several times, without getting any sign of a reply; nor seeing so much as the first indication that the unknown might be even then advancing in the direction of the spot where the tent stood. “Looks like he didn’t care to make our acquaintance very much,” grunted Donald, still acting peevish, something out of the usual run with him. “Oh! well, I reckon we can get along without knowing him,” remarked Adrian. “And perhaps after all that shot wasn’t meant to help us so much.” “Eh? What d’ye mean by saying that?” asked Billie. “Why, the fellow who fired may have meant to send in a random bullet, just to help scare us; but by mistake, perhaps it went the wrong way, and wounded one of his friends,” Adrian concluded; though from his manner it was apparent he himself had very little faith in this rather far-fetched theory. Donald laughed.