PREFACE

My Dear Lads: 

This tale of “Four Boy Hunters” is a complete story in itself, but forms the first volume of a line to be called “The Boy Hunters Series,” taking the heroes through various adventures while searching for big and little game in the woods and in the mountains.

The boys are bright, lively fellows of to-day, with a natural taste for a life in the open, and a fondness for a gun and a rod.  In the present volume they organize their little club, and after a good deal of talk obtain permission to go a number of miles from home and establish a camp on the edge of a lake.  From this spot they are driven away by one who is their enemy, and then they go elsewhere.  They have fun and adventures in plenty, around the camp and while out after both big and little game, and they help to bring to justice two men who are hiding from the officers of the law.  To-day hunting in our country is not what it was some years ago.  Many of the best hunting localities have become settled, and it is becoming harder and harder to catch a sight of a deer, or a moose, or a bear, or, in fact, any wild animal of size.  In the far West the buffalo has been practically wiped out, and in the East the deer and moose would also be gone were it not for the protection of the law, which makes it illegal to shoot down such game during the closed season.

With best wishes to all who love a gun and love good hunting, I remain, Your sincere friend, Captain Ralph Bonehill.

CHAPTER I

TARGET SHOOTING AND A PLAN

Cling!

“A bull’s-eye!”

Cling!

“Another bull’s-eye, I declare!”

Cling!

“Three bull’s-eyes, of all things!  Snap, you are getting to be a wonder with the rifle.  Why, even old Jed Sanborn couldn’t do better than that.”

Charley Dodge, a bright, manly boy of fifteen, laid down the rifle on the counter in the shooting gallery and smiled quietly.  “I guess it was more luck than anything, Shep,” he replied.  “Perhaps I couldn’t do it again.”

“Nonsense,” came from Sheppard Reed, also a boy of fifteen.  “You have got it in you to shoot straight and that is all there is to it.  I only wish I could shoot as well.”

“How did you fellows make out?” came from a third youth, as he entered the gallery.  He was sixteen years old but hardly as large as the average lad of ten.

“Snap just made three bull’s-eyes!” cried Shep Red.  “Made them as easily as pie, too.”

“And what did you make?”

“Made one bull’s-eye and two inner rings.  Are you going to try your luck, Giant?”

“Humph!—–­I don’t think I can hit the back of the building unless they move it up to me,” answered Will Caslette.  “But I’ll take a chance,” he added, turning to the keeper of the gallery and fishing five cents from his pocket.  “Got to learn to shoot if I’m going on a hunt, you know,” he went on, to his chums.