"
This bit of advice made a deep impression on the lads and they
promised to remember it.
The sun was high in the heavens and its heat was becoming terrific.
"Fetch the horses and come into the woods," commanded Mr. Wilder.
"We'll get dinner ready and wait for Bill and Larry where it's
cool."
"Why it's a quarter of twelve," said Tom, looking at his watch. "I
had no idea it was so late."
"Time flies when you are hunting," returned the ranchman, "a fact
that you should remember, and with it that darkness falls quickly
in the mountains."
The ponies were nothing loath to move from the broiling plateau to
the cooler woods and stood contentedly, now and then nibbling the
leaves and tender twigs from the trees near them.
Lighting a fire, Mr. Wilder soon had a choice slice of venison
broiling In the saucepan, and the aroma was so good that the boys
could hardly wait to taste the meat.
At last it was ready, and they ate it ravenously. "How much better
it tastes when you've shot it yourself," declared Tom. "I've had
venison before, but it wasn't nearly so good as this."
"A keen appetite and the mountain air certainly do give a zest to
your food," smiled the ranchman.
"I reckon I'll put another slice on the fire so it will be ready
for the boys when they come."
But it was fully an hour later before they heard the others hail.
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