When Phil walked away from the spot where the power boat was secured, with his two companions aboard, he did not mean to go far. Night would soon swoop down on the wilderness; and from former unpleasant experiences the young hunter knew what it was to be lost.

This was his first experience in Florida sport, and he knew that he had lots to learn; but he was a boy who always kept his eyes and ears open; and besides, had a general knowledge of the many things peculiar to the country.

He had mapped out a little turn in his mind. By moving directly east for perhaps ten minutes, then turning sharply north, and proceeding for the same length of time, after which he would swing into the southwest, Phil believed he might cover quite a stretch of territory, and stand few chances of missing the river.

He pushed on through patches of the ever-present saw palmetto, with its queer roots thrust out of the ground, and as large as a man’s leg. Phil never ceased to be interested in this strange product of the southern zone, even if he did manage to stumble over the up-lifted roots more than once.

The pine woods proved rather open, since they had halted for the first night in a region where there was something of a swamp on one side of the river, and high land on the other. Tony had of course selected the latter for their stopping place.

Phil noticed that he had the breeze on the left as he advanced; and it was toward this quarter in particular that he kept his eyes turned; for if he was to get near a feeding deer it would have to be with the animal toward the wind.

When he made his first turn, and headed north, the conditions were still more favorable, since he was now walking directly into the breeze.

Once he heard the whirr of little wings. He had flushed a covey of quail; but as his mind was at the time set on nobler game, and the chance for a shot not particularly good, he did not attempt to fire; though naturally his gun flew up to his shoulder through the hunter instinct.

“Looks good to me ahead there?” he muttered, as he noticed some patches of green in open spots or little glades. “If there’s a deer around, I ought to find him feeding at this hour of the afternoon.”

With this idea pressing upon his mind he began to advance cautiously in the direction of the glades; keeping his body sheltered by the scrub, and his eyes on the alert for a moving red form.

Five, ten minutes he employed in making his “creep,” but he found that it was time well spent; for as he finally reached the spot he had been aiming for, he discovered a deer within easy gunshot, calmly feeding.

Phil repressed any emotion that would have overcome a greenhorn at the fine prospect for a shot. He saw that the animal was a bit suspicious, since it frequently raised its head to sniff the air, and look timidly around.

That meant a quick shot, while the chance remained. Once the animal took the alarm it would bound away on wings of fear; and Phil knew that it was not so easy to hit a leaping deer, especially when trees and scrub intervened.

So he raised his Marlin at a time when the deer’s head was lowered. Perhaps even this cautious movement may have stirred some leaf, for he saw that graceful head quickly raised. The deer was looking straight at him.

“Bang!”

No sooner had Phil fired than he sent the empty shell flying with one swift movement of the forearm; and by another action brought a fresh shell into place. Thus he was instantly ready to shoot again, so marvelously did the clever mechanism of the up-to-date firearm work.

No second shot, however, was needed. One look convinced the young Nimrod of that pleasant fact. The deer had fallen, and seemed to be kicking its last on the grass.

Phil hastily advanced, still holding his gun in readiness for instant action in case of necessity; for he had heard of wounded deer jumping up, and in a rage attacking the hunter.

When he reached the side of his quarry, however, the last movement had ceased; and Phil knew he had secured the game for which Larry had been pining so long.

“My! what a little chap!” he exclaimed. “Now I wonder if it can be a youngster; and yet look at the full-fledged antlers, would you? But then it seems to me I was told the deer down South were all much smaller than up in the Adirondacks. I believe I can carry this fellow to the boat without any help.”

He soon lifted the game, and swung it to his back. Then, managing to grip his gun in one hand, he took his bearings again, and started off.

Phil was too experienced a woodsman to easily get lost. And he had fixed the points of the compass so well in his mind that, just as he expected, he actually struck the river a short distance above the tied-up motor boat.

Larry was still fishing away, and so engrossed in playing a bass that had taken his bait that he did not at first notice the returning hunter. Having finally succeeded in dragging his prize aboard, with the help of Tony, he was made aware of the coming of his chum through low words spoken by the swamp boy.

One look Larry gave; then seeing what it really was Phil carried on his shoulders he let out a whoop that might have been heard a mile.

“Venison for supper, with fish! Wow! ain’t we going to live high, though? Delmonico isn’t in it with we, us and company tonight. See, I’ve caught three fine bass, Phil; and didn’t they pull like sixty, though? My arms are real sore after the job of getting them in. And I didn’t break your nice pole, either.”

“Which was very kind of you, old fellow,” said Phil. “Somebody please take my gun, so I can dump this deer on the ground. I bled him, Tony; but when we cut the venison up, we don’t want to make a mess aboard. And that limb up yonder will be just the ticket to hang him from over-night, to keep our meat away from any prowling cats.”

Larry drew in his line and put away his fishing rod, which of course was to him only a “pole.” He immediately busied himself in getting ready to cook supper. And presently everybody seemed hard at work. Tony was cleaning the fish, Phil getting some slices from the haunch of the deer; and Larry peeling potatoes which they had secured in the river town that morning.

A couple of lanterns gave all the light needed when night gathered around them. And after all it was not so dark; for the moon happened to be more than half full, and being nearly overhead, shone down nicely.

Phil pounded the steaks he had cut off, hoping in this way to make them somewhat more tender. A fire was built ashore, since they had need to save their kerosene when it could be just as well done as not.

Over this Larry got busy. He had all the assistance he required; for as soon as the coffee got to boiling, the fish to frying, after being placed in a pan where some salt pork had been tried out; and the venison to browning, the mingled odors caused every fellow to realize that he was mighty hungry.

As long as he lived Larry would probably never forget that first supper in the wilderness. It seemed to him as though he might be living in an enchanted land; with that silvery moon shining overhead, the fire sparkling near by, and all those delightful dishes awaiting attention.

Food never tasted one half so delicious as it did right then; for already was Larry beginning to get the hunter’s zest, what with the ozone in the air, and the prospect for happy days ahead.

And when they could eat no more there was still quite a quantity of the cooked food left over, which Larry stowed away in a couple of pans against breakfast.

With Tony’s help Phil managed to draw the carcass of the deer up some ten feet from the ground. It looked quite weird swinging there in the moonlight; but Larry chuckled with pleasure every time his eyes roved that way.

He had declared the venison was all that he had expected it to be; and vowed it equaled any ordinary beefsteak he had ever eaten.

“Next time we try it, though,” Larry said, “I’m going to fry a mess of those nice big onions we’ve got along. Always did have a weakness for steak with onions.”

“Let’s talk about something else besides eating,” remarked Phil.

“Well, how d’ye like your coffee then, with this evaporated cream in it?” asked the cook, as he lifted his tin cup, and proceeded to drain it.

“It’s all to the good, and touches the right spot,” Phil laughed; and then added, to get his chum’s mind off the subject: “How many more days journey lie ahead of us, Tony, before we strike the region where the shingle-makers live?”

The swamp boy seemed to consider.

“If we make good time tomorrow, it ought to be only one more day after that,” he remarked, with convincing positiveness.

“Well, we don’t expect to rush things,” said Phil; “but since there’s an ugly piece of business ahead, I mean to get it over with as soon as I can, with reason. One more night, and then we’ll come in touch with your people, eh?”

“If yuh don’t change your mind some, an’ turn back,” replied the other; with a vein of pleading in his smooth Southern voice that quite touched Phil.

He knew what influenced the swamp boy; who was fearful lest some harm befall the new-found friend who had become so dear to him, even though a span of a day would cover their acquaintance.

“How about our being disturbed tonight by some hungry wildcat that might scent fresh blood, and think to dine on our fine deer up yonder?” and Phil nodded his head up toward the swaying bundle for the game had been partly skinned, and was now wrapped up in the hide.

“That might be,” returned the other, carelessly. “All depends if thar be a hungry cat aroun’. Hear ’em, and get a shot.”

“Oh! my! do you really think such a thing could happen?” exclaimed Larry, a bit uneasily as though he wondered whether an agile wildcat might not take a notion to jump into the launch while up in the overhanging tree.

“Don’t worry about it, Chum Larry,” said Phil soothingly. “This stationary top would keep him from getting aboard, you see. But in case you hear a shot during the night, just remember what we’ve been talking about.”

“All right, I will,” Larry observed; and later on when making preparations for sleeping he was unusually careful to tuck himself well in, and draw down the curtains close to him, fastening them securely with the grummets that were meant to clutch the round-headed screws along the side.

Phil himself was secretly wishing a hungry cat might come sneaking along, to climb up in the tree, and tackle their meat; for he wanted to have the satisfaction of saying he had shot a Florida bobcat; and in protecting their stores he could find plenty of excuses for making war on such a beast.

So he arranged things when laying down, in order to allow of a peep at any time he woke up. As long as the moon remained above the horizon, which would be until after midnight, he could plainly see that dark object swinging from the limb of the tree above.

None of them dreamed of the various things that were fated to come to pass ere the journey’s end was reached. Could stout hearted Phil have had a fleeting vision of what lay before them, even he might have hesitated about going on. But he fully believed that he was carrying an olive branch of peace that could not fail to subdue the truculent nature of the dreaded McGee. And it was in that confident spirit he fell asleep.

Possibly a couple of hours may have passed when he awakened, feeling rather cramped from lying on one side so long. Before turning over, he remembered his intention to take occasional peeps up at the meat that had been swung aloft; and raising the flap of the loose curtain he cast his eyes in that quarter.

The moon was lower now, but still shone brightly. And he could without any particular trouble make out the dark object which he knew must be the suspended package of venison. Nothing seemed to be near it, save the usual branches of the tree; and Phil was about to give a satisfied grunt, after which he would roll over the other way, when somehow he became convinced that the bundle appeared much larger than previously.

Watching closely he made a startling discovery. There was some object flattened out on top of the deer, for he plainly saw it move, as though a head were being raised. And what was evidently the truth burst upon him. A wildcat had climbed the tree while they slept, and was now trying to get at the venison!