“Good!” whispered Dave, raising his rifle. “The best kind of deer meat. Which will you take, Henry?” “I’ll take the doe.” “All right, I’ll take the fawn. It’s a pity to kill such a beautiful creature, but it can’t be helped. We need the meat.” Both moved a little closer, to a spot where they could get a better chance at the doe and her fawn. Just as they raised their rifles the mother deer looked up and gave a sniff. The fawn followed, and both started to bound away. Bang! bang! Both guns rang out in quick succession. The fawn fell in a heap in the bushes and lay still. The doe struggled on, mortally wounded in the breast. But hardly had she gone ten feet, with Henry and Dave after her, than an old frontiersman stepped from behind a tree, ran up, and plunged a hunting knife into her throat, bringing her career to an end. “Sam Barringford!” cried Dave and Henry in a breath. “Right ye air, boys,” answered the old frontiersman. “I wasn’t quite quick enough fer ye, was I? Thought as how thet meat war mine fer sartin.” “Were you after the doe and her fawn?” asked Henry. “Yes—been a-followin’ ’em fer the last hour. They war in sight o’ the fort, an’ I thought I’d add to the provender by bringin’ ’em low.” “Well, you’ve had your hand in the killing,” said Dave. He examined the fawn. “There’s meat fit for the table of a king.” “Yes, and I wish mother had it,” added Henry. Sam Barringford was alone and carried only his long rifle, his horn of powder and ball, and his hunting knife. As of old he was attired in a hunting shirt, with leggings, and wore his coonskin cap, with the tail trailing behind. He was surprised to learn that they had no game with them, but still more surprised when he heard the tale they had to tell. “We’ll want to git back to the fort without delay,” he said. “The commandant there must know about this.” The doe was hung on a long pole, and Dave and Henry carried the game between them. The fawn Sam Barringford slung across the back of his neck, with the front hoofs in one hand and the rear hoofs in the other. Thus they walked as swiftly as possible to the fort, where their coming was noted from a distance. “Not so bad,” said James Morris, as he eyed the game. “But you have made a long stay of it.” “Yes, and we might have had a bear, two cubs, and a buffalo had it not been for the Indians,” replied Dave. “The Indians!” burst out his parent. “Do you mean to say you ran into the Indians again?” “We certainly did,—and I have been a prisoner, too,” said Henry. “I might be a prisoner yet if it hadn’t been for Dave.” “Well, this is certainly news,” said Rodney. “I thought all the Indians had cleared out.” “I said all along they’d be skulkin’ around,” said Sam Barringford. “Don’t ye remember as how I warned ye to keep your eyes peeled? Some o’ them redskins ain’t a goin’ to git out until they actually have to, mark me!”