"No, but it came pretty close. I thought first it was an Indian leaping up out of the grass."
They moved off, side by side, and each with his gun ready for use. As Henry was the hunter of the Morris family and knew the forest better than anyone, Dave allowed him to do such guiding as seemed necessary. They pursued their course over one rise and then another, and after that followed the windings of a tiny brook which Henry said ran to within gun-shot of the Risley homestead.
They were just making a bend of the watercourse when another wild animal started up directly under Henry's feet. It was a fox resting in a hollow log, and in its anxiety to get away the animal struck against Dave's legs, upsetting him.
"Oh!" cried Dave as he went down. "Help! shoot him!"
"It's a fox!" ejaculated Henry, and as the animal shot past him he made a dive and caught the beast by the brush. The fox gave a snarl and tried to bite him, but ere the head came around the young hunter swung the fox in a circle and brought him down with a dull thud on the log. The first blow was followed by another, which crushed the beast's skull as though it were an egg-shell.
"There! he'll never bother anybody again," said
