“I must say you don’t want much,” said Harry. “I guess we’ll be lucky if we get one or two all told.” “Nothing like hoping for the best,” grinned old Runnell. “It might be that we’d get two each, you know.” “I want a good picture of a deer as much as anything,” went on Harry, who had his camera swung from his shoulder. “Humph! that’s all well enough, but we can’t live on photos,” grumbled Fred. “A nice juicy bit of venison will just suit me to death after such a tramp as this is going to be.” As soon as the thick undergrowth was left behind, they stopped and donned their snowshoes. Out on the lake the snow lay in an unbroken mass for miles. Over this they found snowshoe walking to be comparatively easy. “Snowshoes are all right on a level,” old Runnell explained. “It is going up-hill and coming down that tests one’s skill.” “Oh, I think this is lots of fun!” cried Harry, and started to run. All went well for fifty yards, when he struck an extra high drift of snow and pitched into it headlong. “Oh, for a snap-shot!” sang out Joe, merrily. “Harry, lend me the camera until I press the button on you.” “Not much!” spluttered his brother. “Wuow! But that was a cold plunge!” he added, as he freed himself of the snow. “Tell you what, there is more science in using these things than one imagines.” The edge of the cove was covered with pines and spruces, all hanging low with their weight of snow. Back of this fringe was a small opening, filled with young saplings. “The deer have been around here, that’s certain,” said Joel Runnell, as he pointed to the saplings. “See how they have been peeling off the bark.” He told them to look to their firearms, and they did so, while Harry made certain that his camera was ready for use. Then they continued their journey, with eyes and ears on the alert for the first appearance of any game. It was all of an hour before the old hunter called a halt. He pointed to a track in the snow just ahead of them. “Deer!” he said, in a half whisper. “Five of ’em. Go slow now, and make no noise.” At this announcement the heart of each of the youths began to flutter, and they clutched their guns tightly, while Harry brought his camera around to the front. There was a slight rise of ground in front of them, at the top of which was a belt of brushwood. To the right was a hollow, and to the left something of a cliff. The brushwood gained, Joel Runnell, who was in the lead, motioned for the boys to crouch low. They did as ordered, and came up to him as silently as so many ghosts. The sight that met their gaze thrilled them to the core. The five deer were just beyond, feeding on the tender bark of the young trees in that vicinity. They were knee-deep in the snow. A magnificent old buck was leader of the herd.