by Quincy Allen
CHAPTER VIII
FUR AND FEATHERS
Crack!
That was Frank's rifle, as Bluff well knew.
"Hurrah; he's down, Frank; you got him that time! No, there he's onhis feet again, as sure as anything. Oh, why didn't I have buckshotshells in my gun? There! That time you did drop him for keeps! Bully!bully! bully!"
Bluff immediately got upon his feet, and, as well as his burden wouldadmit, started to run toward the spot were he had last seen the buckgo down.
Frank was following close at his heels, calling to him to go slow,because it sometimes happened that a wounded buck proved himself adangerous antagonist.
It turned out, however, that there was nothing to fear. The deer wasdead when they arrived beside him.
"See, here's where your first bullet struck him, Frank--just back ofthe shoulder. He must have been swerving when you fired that shotWould that have killed him, even if you didn't fire again?"
"In time it would," the other assured him, "though I've known deer torun miles before dropping, after being hit in the body. That was apoor shot for me."
"But, when a buck is humping himself to get away, it strikes me afellow is doing pretty well to be able to hit him at all," Bluffremarked.
"I'm not proud of it, I can tell you. I had a fair chance, too," Frankcontinued. "The second shot was better, and finished him at once.Well, here's your venison, Bluff. What are you going to do with itnow?"
"He's a whole lot bigger than any of the little deer we shot down inFlorida, that's sure," Bluff observed, "and, as we must be some milesaway from camp, excuse me from helping to lug him there. Suppose wecut up the carcass, Frank? You're a clever hand at that sort of work.We could make up a pack of the best parts; and hang up some more soit'd be out of the reach of foxes and skunks, and the like."
"Yes, and pick it up to-morrow, or another day, when perhaps luckfails us," ventured the leader, as though the idea appealed to him. "Ithink that is the best plan, Bluff, so here goes."
Accordingly he set aside his gun, after replacing the two spentcartridges so as to always have the full set of six in magazine andchamber. After that he got busy with his hunting knife.
Bluff hovered around, ready to assist when asked. Frank knewconsiderable about such things, for he proved very deft with his sharpblade.
The buck's head was hung from a tree, high enough to keep any animalfrom reaching it.
"Of course," Frank explained, after they had managed to do this, "if ahungry bobcat came along we couldn't hope to prevent it from gettingthere; and a Canada lynx would think nothing of making a spring twicethat high. But what we want most of all are the antlers; and this willsave them for us."
He also made one package of meat to take home, and another that theyhung from a limb the same way the buck's head had been.
"Now, are we ready to start for home?" asked Bluff, when all thesethings had been looked after.
"Yes, because we've gone far enough for one thing," replied Frank;"and then, besides, we have all the game we need for the present."
"Three birds is a poor number for our crowd," the other protested."Either somebody has to go without, or else they must be divided up."
"Well, keep on the watch, and perhaps you may get a crack at anotheron the way back to camp," Frank advised him.
"Guess I will, and thank you for telling me, Frank. It was hardlyfair, though, for you to make all that venison up in just one pack.Why didn't you fix it so I could tote some on my back?"
"I figured that three fat partridges would be about as much as anyfellow cared to carry; and, if you should bag another, that'd make itcomplete. So forget it, and be on the watch."
That was Frank's way, and Bluff knew it was no use trying to make himchange his plans. There was not a selfish bone in Frank Langdon'sbody--even his worst enemy would admit that much.
Before ten minutes had passed the chance came whereby Bluff wasenabled to fill out his assortment of partridges, so that every campercould have one.
"That was a fine shot, Bluff!" Frank told him, when he had seen howthe spinning bird dropped like a stone the instant the gun wasdischarged.
"That's nice of you to say, Frank; sometimes I do manage to get whereI aim."
They had to rest several times while on the way home. Finally thecabin near the bank of the partly frozen creek was reached. Jerryspied them coming, and at once set up a yell.
"Come out here, Will; hurry up!"
Immediately the other came flying into view. He carried his camera inhis hand, and there was a startled expression on his face.
"It isn't fair to give a fellow a scare like that, Jerry," he saidreproachfully. "I certainly thought a bear had you up a tree, and Ihoped to get the picture. It would have been the prize of mycollection, too. Now it turns out that it's only Frank and Bluffcoming home from their hunt."
"Well, that ought to make a good scene for a picture, oughtn't it?"Jerry demanded. "See what they've got with them, will you? A big packthat contains venison, I know, because that's a deer-skin it's wrappedin. And see Bluff fairly staggering under his load of game. Boys,we're proud of you."
"Now we can begin to live like real hunters," Will remarked, after hehad clicked his camera deftly, getting the proper light on thereturned chums. "With partridge and venison hung up we'll be inclover. All I'd like to see now would be a haunch of bear meatalongside."
Of course they must have plenty of the fruits of the hunt for supperthat night. The birds were immediately prepared and baked in an oventhat Frank showed them how to make, using a hole dug in the ground.
"This way of baking game is an old hunter's trick," said Frank, whilehe was excavating the oven, "and has been known among Indians andothers for nobody can tell how long. You see, it might be called theorigin of the up-to-date 'fireless cookers.' It is made very hot, andthen the food sealed in it so that the heat gradually does thebusiness."
The others knew something about the method, although they had possiblynever been in a position to see the thing in operation. Frank burned aspecial kind of hard wood in his oven until he had a bed of glowingashes. These he took out, and then the four partridges, plucked andready for eating, were wrapped in some clean muslin Frank producedfrom his pack, and which had been previously dampened.
After that the oven was sealed up the best way they could. As thefrost had not as yet penetrated more than an inch below the surface ofthe ground, digging had not been found unduly difficult, using a camphatchet to hew the crust.
Hours later, when the oven was opened, it still retained anastonishing amount of the heat that had been sealed up in it. Thebirds they found cooked through and through.
"The very best way of preparing partridges that can be found, Ithink," was the comment of Will, who had read several cook-books athome and had a jumble of their contents in his mind.
"It certainly has made these birds mighty tender and sweet," confessedJerry, as he pulled his prize apart with hardly any effort.
"Things cooked in this way are always made tender," Frank told them."A tough steak made ready for the table in a fireless cooker will beas nice as the most costly porterhouse is when broiled or fried. Theonly thing I object to is that it never seems to have that nice brownlook, and the taste that I like most of all. It's more after the styleof a stew to me."
As the four partridges were only skimpy "racks" when the boys tossedthem aside, it can be readily inferred that all the campers enjoyedthe feast abundantly. Indeed, they even had some of the venison as aside dish; this was cooked in the frying-pan after the usual manner.
"Might as well have enough game while about it," Bluff remarked. "Andlet me say right here and now that this sort of thing tastes a heapfiner when you've had the privilege of knocking over the gameyourself; or it's been done by the party you're with."
When finally they had eaten until no one could contain another bite,the boys, as was their habit, drew around the crackling fire, andstarted discussing their affairs, as well as other matters
that cameup.
Frank had warned Bluff that it might be just as well if they keptstill about the series of shots they had heard, accompanied by faintshouts that might have stood for either triumph or excitement.
To his chagrin Jerry himself introduced the topic.
"While you were gone, fellows," he went on to remark, "Will and I wereprowling around near here to find a good place to set his flashlighttrap camera to-night, when we heard a regular row some distance overthere. Must have been as many as five or six shots in rapidsuccession, and some hollering, too."
As the cat was now out of the bag, Frank felt there was no need ofkeeping secret the fact that they, too, had heard the series of shots.
"Yes, we caught it just after we'd got our partridges, and before weraised the buck," he confessed; "I didn't mean to say anything aboutit, because there seemed no need; but since you're wise to the fact wecan talk about it."
"It must have been that Nackerson crowd, don't you think?" asked Will.
"There can be no question about that," Frank replied.
"They started a deer, and were peppering away at him in great shape,of course?" suggested Jerry.
"That sounds like the explanation," he was told; "but then the sameshooting would have followed the discovery of a lynx, or perhaps ablack bear in a tree. All we can be sure about is that we want tofight shy of that country over there. We can hunt a different field;and I'm in hopes that by doing so we'll miss running across those menall the time we're up here."
"Now, Frank, you remember you told us to remind you of something?"Jerry remarked when the conversation flagged.
"You mean about this wonderful woods country up in the State ofMaine," Frank went on, smiling as though the task he had been calledon to shoulder pleased him, since he was a native of the State, andloved it dearly.
"Yes; something about the strange ways you said there were for men tomake a living in the woods," Bluff added.
