THE QUEST OF THE PHANTOM DEER
The dogs were tugging at their leashes, having already scented the
trail, when Lilly called his hunters about him to give them their
directions. It was decided that Tad Butler and Stacy Brown were to
proceed to the north, posting themselves between two ridges of cane
in the swamp, and there to wait until they were called in by the
guide's horn later in the day.
Ned was given a post to the south, while Walter Perkins and the
Professor were to remain with Lilly. Taking all things into
consideration the three boys who were to guard the north and south
were in much the better positions, as it was believed that the bears
would take one of these two directions, breaking from ridge to ridge
until they found a hiding place in one or the other of the canebrake
ridges.
Tad and Ned were each equipped with a bush-knife, with a horn to each
party. Lilly considered that the boys needed no further advice from
him, the lads having had experience with bear before this and all
being good shots and well-tried hunters at big game.
"Look out that you don't get lost if you get on a chase," he warned.
"One is likely in the excitement of a chase to forget to blaze his
trail. It isn't any use to get game if you can't get back to camp
with it."
The boys knew this, too. Stacy declared that such a little thing as
the canebrake didn't worry him in the least; that he could find his
way out with his eyes shut.
"Don't try it," warned the guide tersely.
"I am glad I haven't the responsibility of looking after Chunky,"
chuckled Ned Rector. "Tad, you have your work cut out for you."
"All take your positions. We will wait here until you have done so,
then we will free the dogs. Blow your horns, one long blast when you
are ready, then lie low," directed the guide.
"Come on, Chunky; I'm off," cried Tad, springing into his saddle,
armed with rifle, bush-knife, horn and hunting knife, Chunky having
the usual equipment without the bush-knife and horn.
The two boys fought their way through the jungle and were soon out of
sight and sound of their companions. Ned, too, was on his way to his
post, thus placing the two outside parties about five miles apart,
with the guide, Professor Zepplin and Perkins, somewhere midway
between the outside parties.
After some time had elapsed, Ned's horn was heard. He had farther to
go than Tad. The latter's horn sounded fully half an hour after
Ned's.
Lilly unleashed the dogs, and with joyful yelps they scattered,
diving into the thick cane, darting here and there, in search of the
trail, which they found, and started away in a very few minutes. To
the surprise of Lilly, the dogs headed west instead of going either
north or south, as he had looked for them to do.
"He will round back sooner or later and break for the other ridges,"
was the guide's confident prediction. "The boys will get a chance at
the bear unless I am greatly mistaken."
Lilly and his two companions now started at break-neck speed in
pursuit of their dogs. Through cane, through soft, swampy land they
urged their ponies, slashing to the right and left with the
bush-knife. The yelping of the dogs could be heard far ahead of them.
"Good trail," observed Lilly. "The hounds are making excellent time.
That's a favorable sign."
"But we shan't get a shot at the game if it is going so far away,"
objected Walter.
"You can't tell about that. The bears are just as likely to double
back here as to go on. You never can tell about those fellows. They
are sharp and they can cover ground faster than we can in the woods.
This nearest one is a she-bear and a big one."
"How do you know?" questioned Walter.
"I can tell by her tracks and the way she works. It is easy when you
know. There, the dogs are out of hearing now. Gracious, she's
making a long run. We will take a short cut across this way. That
ought to bring us across the trail and we may be able to head her
off."
While all this was taking place Tad Butler and Stacy Brown were
standing beside their horses close to the canebrake. They too heard
the barking of the dogs, and realized that the game was getting
farther and farther away.
Suddenly Tad heard what he thought was the sound of a breaking twig
off to the north of them.
"Chunky," he whispered, "you stay here and watch the horses while I
make a scout. I believe that bear has given them the slip and has
come over into the brake here. Don't make a sound. I will be back
pretty soon."
"How long?"
"Half an hour at the most."
Stacy nodded. Tad tethered his horse, then taking his rifle from the
saddle boot stole silently away. Stacy lost sight of him in a few
minutes. Butler, proceeding as quietly as an Indian, had crossed the
next cane ridge and had gotten nearly over a narrow stretch of swamp
when he heard a sound in the cane just ahead of him. Tad crouched
down and listened. Not a sound save that of the birds of the forest
did he now hear. He had waited in that position for some time, when
he heard something strike the ground in the canebrake just beyond him.
The boy straightened up. A flash of red and a crashing of the cane
told him that his ears had not deceived him.
With characteristic quickness, Tad threw up his rifle and fired. A
crash woke the echoes of the forest, stilling the songs of the birds
in the trees. Then followed another crash.
"I got him that time. It's a deer," exulted the Pony Rider Boy. He
did not pause to think that his had been a remarkable shot, or that
he had fired while the deer was still in the air, making a leap for
safety. The animal had caught sight of him as he rose to his feet,
then leaped. Alarmed by the baying of the dogs, the deer had fled in
Tad's direction, and perhaps it had halted because of the scent of
the boy himself. At any rate Tad Butler's shot had been sure. His
bullet had caught the animal just back of the shoulder, dropping the
deer dead in its tracks.
Butler started on a run, crashing through the bushes and into the
dense cane, and there lay the deer, a handsome doe. The young hunter
felt regretful as he gazed down at the fallen animal.
"Well, I reckon I've got enough meat to keep us going for some time.
Mr. Lilly will be glad to get this. Now, I must get the horses."
Tad jacked the deer up in the manner learned from his former guide in
the Maine Woods, then started back for Stacy and the horses. Butler
had a little difficulty in finding his way at first, thus losing
fully twenty minutes, but finally he found the trail, and set off for
the stock on a brisk run.
"Hey, what did you shoot at?" cried Stacy the instant he caught sight
of his companion.
"At a deer," answered Tad, smiling happily, "and I got him, too."
"You did?" wondered Stacy.
"I surely did. We will go get him and take him back to camp."
"What about the bear?"
"I don't believe the bear will come this way. You heard them going
off in the other direction, but perhaps you had better stay here and
watch while I get the deer."
"No, no, I'm going with you," protested Chunky.
"Very good, if you want to. I don't think we shall lose much. Then
again I may need your help in loading the beast on my horse."
"Is he a big one?"
"No, it is a doe," answered Tad, climbing into his saddle, Stacy
doing the same with his mount.
"Hurrah!" shouted the fat boy. "We are the mighty hunters. Give us
a fair show and send the rest of the folks about their business and
we will show them how to get game. But I'm sorry we didn't meet the
bears."
"So am I. Still, we have some food that is better than bear meat."
The boys hurried along Tad's trail as fast as possible. They crossed
the swamp places, on through the canebrake and into the partially
open swale where Tad had stood when he shot.
"It is right over there," called Tad. He pushed on, but as he
reached the spot he stopped and rubbed his eyes. There was no deer
there.
"He's gone," gasped Tad Butler.
"A regular phantom deer," jeered the fat boy. "Oh, what a joke on
you. Won't the boys have the laugh on you?"
"This is no joke," answered Tad slowly. "I'm going to find out what
it is right now."