"Well, I might wait up and have a bite if you don't keep me too long. You see I mean to make a roundabout trip into that stretch of woods you told us about I'd like the worst kind to get a crack at a deer. That would be worth while, Jesse." "Then I'll get busy right away. But p'raps ye'd better defer that ere trip fur a day or so, lad," remarked the trapper, sweeping an eye upward. "Why?" asked the boy. "Thar's some sorter storm broodin', er I'm bad deceived. In course at this season we don't expect much along that line; but I hev seen a scorcher come along, even in October. Ten year ago it was, and thar was quite some timber leveled, I'm tellin' ye." But Jerry was built along a stubborn line: Having once made up his mind to do a thing it was very hard for him to break away. "Oh! I don't bother about a little blow. If it comes to the worst I can find a hollow tree, and keep pretty dry. Now, I want to see just how you cook that stew, so I can do it sometime." The dinner was a success, and, of course, Jerry, being hungry, heartily enjoyed it. When the meal was finished he arose, and picked up his gun. "Still of a mind to take that long tramp, air ye?" asked the trapper. "Why, certainly. I haven't even thought of changing my mind," returned the boy. "Well, I s'pose ye must, then. Only keep yer eye peeled for trouble up yonder. It's sure goin' to storm; for I feels it in my bones. Besides, thar's a pack o' measly wild dogs loose in that stretch o' timber." "Wild dogs?" repeated Jerry, opening his eyes wider. "Sartin; dogs as has strayed away from ther homes, an' took back to a wild state. It happens that ways sometimes. Ther call o' the wild, they name it. Sumpin' seems to pull the critters back, an' they break away from human kind to roam the woods an' hunt ther livin'. I seen the pack once or twice, an' I kinder believe ther a-gettin' more fiercer all the while." "Wild dogs, eh? How many about are there, Jesse?" asked Jerry, fingering his shotgun a little nervously. "From three to five ginerally. Ye see they comes an' goes, so ther ain't no tellin' jest how big the pack kin be. But ef so be they tackles ye, son, jest shin up a tree, an' then pick 'em off. That's my ijee," remarked the trapper. Shaking hands, after getting further directions, Jerry hastened away. It was not long before he found himself in the densest kind of timber. In fact, he had not seen anything like it since coming to the hemlock camp. Here and there were little openings, in some of which green grass grew. It was here the trapper had told him he might possibly find a deer feeding; and as he made his way along, Jerry kept on the lookout for signs. He had been walking much over an hour when he thought he caught a glimpse of a deer ahead; there was something moving there, at least, and with his pulses quickened the boy began to slowly and cautiously advance. Yes, it was a deer, and feeding, too!