This quick movement sent the animals to the ground, and as they landed Snap jumped forward and struck one of the wildcats with the stock of his gun.  It was a telling blow, for by luck more than judgment it crushed the beast’s skull.

The attack on its mate caused the other wildcat to pause.  Then, filled with a sudden fear, and failing to get at Whopper’s throat, it commenced to retreat.

“It’s running away!” shouted Snap.  “Kill it, Shep!”

The doctor’s son had been dancing around, trying to get in a shot without injuring Whopper.

Now he leveled his shotgun and banged away.  It was a close-range hit, and the head of the wildcat was almost blown from the body.

It was several seconds before the three boy hunters realized that the battle was at an end.  Slowly Whopper turned over and looked at the two dead animals.  He rose to his feet, panting heavily.

“Are they bo—–­both dead?” he asked.

“As dead as nails,” answered Snap.

“I thought I was—–­was going to be—–­be chewed up!”

“It was a narrow escape.”

“Say, after this, do you know what I think?  I think we had better kill the beasts first and take the pictures afterward!”

“Then we’ll not have such good photos,” returned the doctor’s son.

“Yes; but what good are photos to a fellow if he gets killed?” questioned Whopper ruefully.

“We’ll have to be more careful, that’s all,” said Snap.

“What shall we do with the wildcats?”

“Leave them here, for all I care,” answered the doctor’s son.  “The skins are not much good at this time of year and after such handling.”

The three boys rested for a while, and then took a picture of the dead wildcats with themselves in the background.  So that all might get in the pictures they set their cameras on rocks and worked them by means of threads of black linen.

“I am afraid our shots have scared away all the game in this vicinity,” remarked the doctor’s son as they, trudged forward once more.  And so it seemed, for nothing came into view for the next hour.  Then Snap sighted some rabbits, but before he could get a shot the game was out of sight.

At noon they rested in a glade that commanded a fine view of the surrounding country and each of the boys took several time pictures with small lens openings, so as to get sharp outlines.

It was well on toward the middle of the afternoon when they came upon the trail of a deer.  It looked to be quite fresh, and this filled them with the hope of catching up to the game.

“We want to be mighty quiet,” cautioned Snap, who was in the lead.  “The wind is uncertain and may carry the slightest sound to the deer.”

“It will carry our scent, too,” answered Whopper.

“That we can’t help and will have to chance.”

They followed the trail for fully half a mile, through something of a hollow between the mountains.  Here they came on quite a pond, much to their surprise.  The pond was filled with lilies and other flowers, and on one side was a series of rocks leading to quite a cliff.