“This is the best hunting ground, according to what Sam said,” Tom went on, “and we want to put in our best licks here. So we’ll take a whole day to it, and go as far as we can, working north, I think, as the woods seem to be thicker there.” This met with the approval of the others, and they started out the next morning, equipped for staying several hours in the open. They set out on a new trail, one they had not traveled before, but they had not gone far on it before Tom, who was in the lead, came to a sudden halt, and uttered an exclamation of surprise. “What’s the matter?” called Jack, who was directly behind him. “See some bear tracks?” “No, these are Skeel tracks, I should say. Those fellows must be just ahead of us, for the marks seem quite fresh.” Tom pointed to some impressions in the snow. Among them were footprints showing that same star mark in hob nails. “I wonder why they’re trailing and following us?” remarked Bert. “It can’t be just for fun.” “Maybe they don’t know where to look for game, and are depending on us,” suggested George. “That might be so,” agreed Tom. “But I wish they’d show their hands, and not keep us guessing all the while. It’s getting on my nerves.” “Well, we’ll keep a lookout for ’em now,” suggested Bert, “and if we see ’em, we’ll give ’em a bit of our minds.” “Yes, and I’m going to ask Sam Wilson to tell ’em to go,” added Tom. “They haven’t any right here. They may be scaring all the game away, and besides, it’s risky. They may get in the way of our guns, or we come too close to theirs, though I haven’t seen them with either a rifle or a shotgun yet.” “No they don’t seem to be hunting, but if they aren’t, what in the world are they up here for?” asked Bert. “That’s what gets me,” remarked Jack. “Well, come on. Time’s too valuable to waste in chinning.” Once more they took up the trail. The footsteps of the three men, on their mysterious errand, crossed the path of our friends at an angle, and they did not think it wise to follow the marks of the hob nails. Luck seemed to be better to-day, from the very start, for, before they had gone three miles, they had bagged two rabbits, three squirrels and Jack had a partridge to his credit. “Enough to keep us from starving,” he said. “Now for bigger game--a deer, at least.” “I’d like to get a good deer picture,” announced Bert, looking to see that his camera was in working order. A little later the four boys stood in a small clearing in the woods, wondering which way to go next, for, so far, they had seen no signs of either bear or deer. They hoped it was not so late in the season that all the bears would be enjoying their winter sleep. Suddenly there was a slight noise over in the underbrush to the left of the clearing. “I’m going to see what that is!” cried Bert, starting forward with his camera. “Probably nothing but a rabbit,” said Jack. “And we’ve got enough of the bunnies.” “Then I’ll take a snapshot; that won’t hurt,” Bert responded.