“The elk we saw on the day we arrived here went in this direction,” thought he, as he trudged along, keeping just in the edge of the timbers for concealment; “and who knows but I may be lucky enough to find them again? If I could get a fair shot at the old buck that carries those splendid antlers, I should have a prize indeed!” Oscar worked his way cautiously through the woods, stopping now and then behind a convenient tree to take a survey of the valley before him, but not a living thing could he see. All the game-animals seemed to have taken themselves off to a safer neighborhood; but that some of them had recently been about there was made apparent to Oscar before he had gone two miles from the cabin. All of a sudden, while his thoughts were wandering far away from the valley, across the snow-covered prairie to the little village of Eaton and the friends he had left there, he came upon the place where a couple of deer had passed the preceding night. He knew there were two of them, a large and a small one, for he could see the prints made by their bodies in the snow when they lay down to sleep. He was satisfied, also, that they had left their beds that morning, for the appearance of the tracks that led to and from the thicket in which they had passed the night, told him so. It had thawed just enough the day before to melt the top of the snow, and during the night it had frozen hard enough to form a thick crust over it. The bottom of the tracks that led into the thicket was covered with this crust, while in those that led out of it the snow was soft to the touch. Oscar was hunter enough to settle this matter, but it needed the skill of a more experienced person to determine how long the deer had been gone, and whether or not it would be worth while to pursue them. “These tracks were not made by elk, because they are too small,” thought the boy, stooping down and looking through the trees on all sides of him, although he knew perfectly well that the animals that made the tracks were a long way from there at that moment. “They couldn’t have been made by common deer, either, for they’re too deep. There must have been heavy bodies on top of those little feet to sink them to such a depth in the snow. I wonder if they could have been made by black-tails? I wish Thompson was here.” But Big Thompson was not there, and consequently if there was anything done toward securing the deer, whatever their name might be, Oscar must do it alone and unaided. He did not expect to be successful in his efforts, but that did not deter him from taking up the trail at once. Breaking into a rapid trot, which he had been known to sustain for three or four miles without the least inconvenience, he followed the tracks out of the timber and across the valley toward the brook.