"Wonder if he could tell whether it was a buck or doe. I--There he is!"
"There who is?"
"One of those big bucks! See him?"
"No."
"A quarter of the way below the summit. Look a hundred yards to the
right of that light-colored patch of ground and thirty yards down
slope."
"I still don't--Oh, my gosh!"
He uncased his binoculars, put them to his eyes, focused and stared for
a full three minutes. When he took the glasses down, there was a gleam
of purest ecstasy in his eyes and at the same time a little awe.
"There isn't a buck that big!" he murmured breathlessly.
"Look again," Ted invited. "Wonder where the dickens the other one is."
He searched the briers, a little puzzled. Damon and Pythias were known
as such because, except during the rutting season, they were never far
apart. But definitely only one of the two huge deer was on Burned
Mountain now. It was very unusual.
Ted shrugged. There was no unchangeable rule that said the two big bucks
must always be together. Maybe the sound of shooting or the hunters
going into the woods had caused them to separate, or perhaps they had
parted for reasons of their own.
The shooting continued spasmodically, and not too far away came the
outlandish cacophony of shrieks and shouts that meant a hunting party
was staging a deer drive. A thin voice screamed, "He's coming your way,
Harvey!"
As Ted continued to watch the big buck, John Wilson became restless.
"Let's go after him."
"Wait a bit," Ted advised. "It isn't going to be that easy."
The climbing hunters, about a hundred and fifty yards apart, broke out
of the forest and into the briers. Two of them were so placed that,
unless he moved, they would pass the big buck at almost equal distances.
But the buck let them pass without so much as flicking an ear. He knew
very well exactly where both hunters were, but he was no fawn to panic
because men were in the woods. The buck had a good hiding place, knew
it, and he had eluded hunters this time merely by doing nothing.
"He's smart, all right." John Wilson had appreciated the strategy, too.
"What do you suggest, Ted?"
"I'm going over to flush him out. You stay here and let me know what he
does."
"But--What good will that do?"
"Deer are pretty much creatures of habit. He's in that bed now because
he likes it. If he doesn't become too frightened today, the chances are
good, both that he'll go into the same bed tonight and that he'll do the
same thing when he's flushed out of it tomorrow. Only you'll be waiting
for him."