He noticed with some concern that it was even now beginning to grow a little dusk under the tall trees that lifted their lofty heads almost a full hundred feet in the air. And then, just when Bob was wondering if they were to arrive at the river, which could not be more than a quarter of a mile distant, without one single sign of game, he heard the well-known crash of Sandy's gun away over to the left; because Pat carried one of those long-barrelled rifles, with the small bore, that took a patched bullet--one that was enclosed in a greased piece of linen--and made a sharp report entirely different from that of a musket. Hurrying that way, he found Pat and Sandy bending over a noble young two-pronged buck that had jumped from a thicket where he had been lying, and fallen when the young Nimrod hastily let fly; for Sandy was a clever all-around shot. Pat set to work, assisted by both the boys, to skin the game, and secure all the edible portions. These parts were made up into three packs, so that each might carry a share of the burden to camp, which was at least two miles distant. Wondering whether the shot had reached the ears of their friends, and picturing their delight when they sighted all that fine fresh meat, the three were trudging along through the gathering darkness, when, without warning, Pat stumbled, having evidently caught his foot in some trailing vine which he had not seen. Bob hastened to drop his own burden, and bend over to assist Pat to rise, for he saw that the other seemed to be having some difficulty about doing so. When he heard the trapper groan, Bob's alarm increased. "What has happened to you, Pat?" asked Sandy, who did not yet understand the cause of the delay, save that their companion had tripped. "Bad cess to the thing; but I'm afther belavin' that I've gone an' twisted me ankle so bad that 'tis mesilf that can't put the same to the ground; and that manes a long time before we say camp agin, so it do," grumbled the trapper. Somehow Bob began to feel a little anxiety, as though he scented new difficulties looming up ahead. CHAPTER XVI THE FIGURES AGAINST THE SKY "THIS is what I call hard luck," remarked Sandy, as he dropped his bundle of deer meat close to where the trapper sat upon the ground, rubbing his ankle. "It is that same, by the token," grumbled Pat. "Av yees give me a hand, byes, it's mesilf will thry to sthand up, and say how well I can walk." Willingly each of the lads took hold of an arm, and assisted him to gain an upright position; but, when Pat started bravely to walk, he made a sorry mess of it. He was a game fellow, however, and would not be dismayed. "Sure, it may pass away afther I've given the ould thing a little exercise, like, and av yees say the worrd we'll pick up our packs and do be goin' on our way, rejoicin' becase it's no worrse. What if I'd broke me nick--that would have been a nice pickle for a man to be in!"