“We’ll follow this run for a while,” said he.  “Bill, you and Larry can ride at the rear.  I’ll keep Horace and Tom with me, so they won’t be tempted to spoil our sport by shooting at the first deer they see, no matter how far out of range it is.  For the benefit of you two,” he added, addressing the brothers, “I will say that when you are riding a trail, and especially a mountain trail, always let your pony have plenty of rein.  It’s easier for him.  He won’t be so likely to stumble and fall, and a pony can generally keep a trail better than a man.”

These instructions delivered, Mr. Wilder turned his pony into the run and the others followed in Indian file, the two elder boys bringing up the procession.

For an hour they rode, now with their ponies scrambling over rocks, now up such steep ascents that the comrades feared the animals would fall over onto them.

But by leaning far forward at such times, they had no mishaps and at last rode out onto a plateau from which they looked down into a vale some two hundred yards below.

A mist hovered over the basin, rendering it impossible for them to see the bottom.

The boys were disappointed and said so.

“On the contrary, it is lucky,” declared Mr. Wilder.  “There is a brook down there and it is a favorite drinking ground for deer.  Under the cover of the mist we shall be able to go down, and it will act as a blanket to keep our scent from the sensitive-nosed beauties.”

“Going to ride down?” queried Tom, looking about for some trail.

“No, we’ll leave the ponies here.  Lively now and hobble them and don’t talk.”

The plateau was some hundred yards long by half as many wide, and quickly the hunters rode their horses to where the mountain again rose, turning the horses loose in some delicious grass.

“Be very careful, very careful in descending,” cautioned the ranchman.  “The ground is wet and the rocks are slippery, and if you once start to fall, there’s no knowing where you will land.”

All the boys had hunted enough to know that the safest way to carry a loaded gun is with the muzzle pointed to the ground, the butt resting against the back of the right shoulder, with the arm akimbo, thus forming a rest for the barrel.

And in this fashion they set out.

After a few minutes’ search Mr. Wilder exclaimed: 

“Here’s the run the deer use.  Steady now.  Mind your feet.  Don’t make a sound.”

With almost no noise, the party descended.  Now and then one of the lads slipped, but there was always a rock or a sapling at hand which they could grasp to steady themselves and no one fell.

As he reached the edge of the mist, Mr. Wilder held up his hand as a signal to halt.

Turning his head, he listened intently for some sound that might give him an inkling as to the whereabouts of the deer.

In his eagerness to locate them, Horace moved away from the trail to the left and then stopped.