“We have some birds and a squirrel,” said Whopper.

“Oh, we didn’t shoot any birds,” put in Ham Spink, coming up.  “Ain’t that fine?” and he held up a medium-sized rabbit.

By this time the whole crowd had surrounded our friends.  All the rival campers had were two rabbits and a small woodchuck that was of no account.

“How do you like these?” said Snap, and showed up the mink and the rest of the game.

At the sight of the game, Ham Spink’s eyes opened widely, and the others from the rival camp showed their astonishment.

“Where did you get all that game?” asked the leader of the other camp.

“Shot it.”

“Not to-day.”

“Yes, to-day,” answered Giant, proudly.

“Then somebody must have helped you,” said am Spink, enviously.  “Maybe Jed Sanborn is around.”

“No; we brought this game down alone.”

“Where did you get the mink?”

“Up that little brook you see yonder.”

“I didn’t know there was any mink around here,” came from Carl Dudder.  “Guess I’ll look for some myself.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” said Snap, pleasantly.

“Yes, you wish us a pile of luck!” burst out Ham Spink.  “I rather guess you wish we wouldn’t bring down a thing!”

“No; I am not so mean, Ham.  There is enough for all in these woods.”

“Bah! don’t tell me!” snorted the dudish youth, and stalked off, followed by two of his cronies.

Ham Spink was dressed in as fine a hunting outfit as he could procure, and his shotgun was an expensive nickel-plated affair—–­the kind of a gun some old hunters who know will not have for a gift.

Ham Spink had just caught sight of a small animal, hidden in the long grass of a glade but a short distance away.

“I am going to bring it down, whatever it is!” he cried to Dick Bush.  “Keep back!”

“Ham’s found something to shoot at!” cried one of the other boys.

They all held back, to give their leader a chance to show his ability.  Snap and his chums watched curiously.

“I don’t see anything-----” began Giant, and then he burst into
a laugh.   “It’s a skunk!”

“A skunk?” repeated Shep.  “If that’s so, Ham had better give it a wide berth.”

It was indeed a skunk, dark in color and with a bushy tail.  As it moved along in the grass it looked somewhat like a large black cat.  Excited, Ham Spink ran close, took hasty aim and let fire.

The skunk was hit but not badly wounded.  It swished around, and an instant later the dudish young hunter received a stream of liquid over his cheek and shoulder that almost paralyzed him.

“Oh! oh!  Take it away!” screamed poor Ham.  “Oh, dear me!”

“Phw! what a stench!” gasped Dick Bush, falling back a step or two.

“That’s a skunk!” yelled Giant.  “Get out of the way—–­unless you want your clothing ruined!”