“Well, I will,” said Joe. “I think Pete knows as well as the steed, that shooting on him won’t hurt him.” “Fire away, then,” said Glenn, looking steadfastly at the deer. Joe fired, and none of the deer ran off. Some continued their playful sports, while others browsed along without lifting their heads; in all likelihood the report did not reach them. But Glenn heard a tremendous thumping behind, and on turning round, beheld his man quietly lying on the ground, and the pony standing about ten paces distant, with his head turned towards Joe, his ears thrust forwards, his nostrils distended and snorting, and his little blue eyes ready to burst out of his head. [Illustration: Glenn heard a tremendous thumping behind.] “How is this, Joe?” inquired Glenn, scarce able to repress a smile at the ridiculous posture of his man. “I hardly know myself,” replied Joe, casting a silly glance at his treacherous pony; and after examining his limbs and finding no injury had been sustained, continued, “I fired as you directed, and when the smoke cleared away, I found myself lying just as you see me here. I don’t know how Pete contrived to get from under me, but there he stands, and here I lie.” “Load your gun, and try it again,” said Glenn. “I’d rather not,” said Joe. “Then I will,” replied Glenn, whose horsemanship enabled him to retain the saddle in spite of the straggles of Pete, who, after several discharges, submitted and bore it quietly. Joe then mounted and set out for the designated thicket, while Glenn galloped off in another direction, followed by the hounds. When Joe arrived at the hazel thicket, he continued in the saddle, and otherwise he would not have been able to see over the prairie for the tall grass which had grown very luxuriantly in that vicinity. There was a path, however, running round the edge of the bushes, which had been made by the deer and other wild animals, and in this he cautiously groped his way, looking out in every direction for the deer. When he had progressed about halfway round, he espied them feeding composedly, about three hundred paces distant, on a slight eminence. There were at least fifteen of them, and some very large ones. Fearful of giving the alarm before Glenn should fire, he shielded himself from view behind a cluster of persimmon bushes, and tasted the ripe and not unpalatable fruit. And here he was destined to win his first trophy as a hunter. While bending down some branches over head, without looking up, an opossum fell upon his hat, knocking it over his eyes, and springing on the neck of Pete, thence leaped to the ground. But before it disappeared Joe had dismounted, and giving it a blow with the butt of his musket it rolled over on its side, with its eyes closed and tongue hanging out, indicating that the stroke had been fatal.