A black squirrel ran down a tree and seeing the hunter scampered away in alarm.  Isaac knew the habits of the black squirrel, that it was a denizen of the wildest woods and frequented only places remote from civilization.  The song of the hermit and the sight of the black squirrel caused Isaac to stop and reflect, with the result that he concluded he had gone much farther from the fort than he had intended.  He turned to retrace his steps when a faint sound from down the ravine came to his sharp ears.

There was no instinct to warn him that a hideously painted face was raised a moment over the clump of laurel bushes to his left, and that a pair of keen eyes watched every move he made.

Unconscious of impending evil Isaac stopped and looked around him.  Suddenly above the musical babble of the brook and the rustle of the leaves by the breeze came a repetition of the sound.  He crouched close by the trunk of a tree and strained his ears.  All was quiet for some moments.  Then he heard the patter, patter of little hoofs coming down the stream.  Nearer and nearer they came.  Sometimes they were almost inaudible and again he heard them clearly and distinctly.  Then there came a splashing and the faint hollow sound caused by hard hoofs striking the stones in shallow water.  Finally the sounds ceased.

Cautiously peering from behind the tree Isaac saw a doe standing on the bank fifty yards down the brook.  Trembling she had stopped as if in doubt or uncertainty.  Her ears pointed straight upward, and she lifted one front foot from the ground like a thoroughbred pointer.  Isaac knew a doe always led the way through the woods and if there were other deer they would come up unless warned by the doe.  Presently the willows parted and a magnificent buck with wide spreading antlers stepped out and stood motionless on the bank.  Although they were down the wind Isaac knew the deer suspected some hidden danger.  They looked steadily at the clump of laurels at Isaac’s left, a circumstance he remarked at the time, but did not understand the real significance of until long afterward.

Following the ringing report of Isaac’s rifle the buck sprang almost across the stream, leaped convulsively up the bank, reached the top, and then his strength failing, slid down into the stream, where, in his dying struggles, his hoofs beat the water into white foam.  The doe had disappeared like a brown flash.

Isaac, congratulating himself on such a fortunate shot—­for rarely indeed does a deer fall dead in his tracks even when shot through the heart—­rose from his crouching position and commenced to reload his rifle.  With great care he poured the powder into the palm of his hand, measuring the quantity with his eye—­for it was an evidence of a hunter’s skill to be able to get the proper quantity for the ball.  Then he put the charge into the barrel.  Placing a little greased linsey rag, about half an inch square, over the muzzle, he laid a small lead bullet on it, and with the ramrod began to push the ball into the barrel.