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"Oh, it was easy once I made up my mind to fire," went on Bart. "I drew a bead on him, and I thought of the game laws, but I knew I was justified."
"It was a corking good shot," exclaimed Fenn, admiringly. "You're a wonder with the rifle, Bart."
"Oh, not so much, I guess. But how about you? Can you walk?"
"Yes, I'm all right. I got scared there for a while, especially when that brute got his leg down inside my belt. I thought it was all up with me."
"So did I. You shouldn't have fired at him."
"I know it, but I let her go before I thought. I'm done with hunting for a while."
"Nonsense, you'll be at it again in a few days. But, if you can walk, let's get back to camp, and get the other fellows. Then we'll come after our meat. We'll have enough venison for a month."
Fenn was rapidly recovering from the effects of his encounter with the buck, though he was still a trifle shaky. He managed to march along, however, and it was found that the cut on his arm was his only injury, except for some bruises and a severe shaking up.
The boys managed to get the buck on some tree branches, after Fenn and Bart had returned to camp, where they found Ned and Frank waiting for them, and they dragged the carca.s.s over the snow to the tents. There it was cut up, and hung in trees, out of the way of foxes, or other prowling beasts.
With enough food in camp for the rest of their stay, the four chums now took things a little easier, only going out for occasional game birds.
Fenn's injury seemed to be healing from the effects of the medical salve put on from the box Alice had provided.
It was one afternoon, three days later, that Ned was observed to be busy with an empty box, some big rubber bands, and string.
"What are you up to now?" asked Frank.
"You'll see," was the answer. "I don't know whether it will work or not, so I'm not going to say what it is." A little later Ned started off through the woods, carrying his contrivance.
His chums were busy about camp, cleaning their guns, bringing in wood or water, and "slicking up" generally, and so paid little attention to Ned.
It wasn't until half an hour afterward that, hearing startled cries in the woods, from the direction of a little clearing where rabbits were numerous, that Bart exclaimed:
"Something's happened to Ned! Hurry up!"
They ran to the place, and saw a curious sight. Ned was lying on the snow-covered ground, his hands stretched toward a sapling while his feet seemed encased in the box at which he had been working a short time previous.
"What's the matter?" panted Bart.
"Get me loose first, and I'll tell you," cried Ned.
"Are you fast?" asked Frank.
"Fast? Of course I am! Can't you see for yourself. I'm caught by my hands and feet in some rabbit traps I was setting."
"Serves you right," commented Bart, trying not to laugh. "You ought to be a sportsman, and shoot your game."
"I didn't want to shoot 'em," explained Ned. "I wanted to catch 'em alive and tame 'em. Hurry up and get me out; will you, fellows?"
They soon released him. His feet were caught under a box, which was weighted down with rocks, while his hands were held in a slip-noose of heavy cord that was fast to the tree, which had been bent over to act as a spring. Ned was stretched out like a prisoner "pegged-out" in the army. He was soon released, and explained that as he was setting the noose trap, his feet had unexpectedly gotten under the box trap, which was sprung, and then the noose slipped, holding him fast at both ends.
CHAPTER XXVI
A VISIT TO TOWN
"Well," remarked Bart, as they walked back to camp with Ned, "there's no use setting any traps now, Ned. The rabbits were watching you, and they saw just how they worked, so you couldn't catch the simplest bunny in these woods."
"I'll make another kind of trap," declared Ned. "I want a rabbit to keep Fenn's turtle company."
"Don't bother about it," said Fenn, dryly.
"Why not?"
"Because my turtle got away in the night. He went back to the boiling spring, to join the others for a New Year's celebration, I guess."
"That's so, to-morrow is the last day of this year," observed Frank. "We ought to celebrate it in some way."
"We will," said Bart. "We'll sit up, and watch the old year out and the new one in, and fire our guns off at twelve o'clock. But what's the matter, Stumpy?" for Fenn was holding the arm injured by the buck, and on his face was an expression of pain.
"It's been hurting considerable since morning," explained the stout youth.
"Let me look at it," demanded Bart, and, when the bandages were taken off, there was disclosed a red and angry sore. The arm was much inflamed.
"I was afraid of this," said Bart. "We've got to go to town and let a doctor look at this. You may get blood poisoning, Stumpy."
"Oh, I guess not. Can't you put some of the stuff on from the box Alice gave us?"
"I'm afraid to take any chances. Besides, I don't think there is anything strong enough for blood poison in the box. No, fellows, we'll go to Cannistota. It's only ten miles. We can easily walk there and back in a day, and, if the doctor thinks it better for Stumpy to stay in town over night, so he can treat him, why we can arrange for that, too. We'll start in the morning, early."
"Then we'll see some of the celebration," put in Frank.
"What celebration?"
"Why the New Year's doings that William Perry said were always held in Cannistota. Don't you remember?"
"Sure, that's right," agreed Bart. "It will do us good to make the trip.
Game is getting rather scarce around here now, and we must begin to think of getting back. We certainly have had a swell time, and I don't want anything to happen to Fenn's arm.
"So get ready, fellows, and we'll make a trip to town, and see what civilization looks like. It seems as if we'd been away six months, instead of three weeks."
"Shall we take our guns?" asked Frank.
"Might as well. No telling what game we'll see on our way back, and going in. We'll fix up the camp so if we have to stay away over night it will be all right, though I don't imagine any one will bother it."
"Unless it's that mysterious man," said Ned, significantly. "He may come snooping around."
"Well, if he does we can't help it," replied Bart, "only I'd like to catch him."
"And I'd like to get back Mrs. Long's diamond bracelet!" exclaimed Frank, with a flash of his dark eyes. "It's not pleasant to be considered a thief!"