"I think he is," replied his cousin. "But we had better make sure. Bucks are mighty tricky at times."
Taking out his hunting knife Henry went forward and cut the throat of the game. Then Barringford leaped from the rocks, and all went to inspect the buck.
"A regular monarch of the forest!" cried Dave, enthusiastically. "Don't know as I've ever seen a larger."
"Nor I," added Barringford. "An' he was a fighter, too, wasn't he?"
"We've got more deer meat now than we know what to do with," went on Dave.
"We don't want the meat of this buck," said Henry. "It would be as tough as all get-out. We can take the skin and some of the meat from that deer, and that will be enough; don't you say so, Sam?"
All were experienced in the work at hand, so it did not take them long to skin both beasts and then the best of the deer meat was cut out by Barringford and rolled up in one of the pelts.
After this the march forward was again resumed.
That night they slept in the open, near a generous camp-fire, without being disturbed, and by sunrise were again on their way. They reached Cherry Run--a collection of half a dozen cabins--a little after noon, and here exchanged the skins and some of the meat for other things of more importance to them.
"There is a Dutch hunter here, who is going to join General Johnson," said the pioneer who gave them other things for their skins. "His name is Hans Schnitzer. Perhaps he'd like to go along with you--if you want him."
"What, old Dutch Hans, the beaver hunter!" exclaimed Barringford. "Why certainly I'd like him along. Thar's more fun in him nor in a barrel o' wasps. Whar is he?"
"He vos right here," came a voice from behind Barringford, and a short, stout individual stepped forward. His hair was red and his shock of a beard bore the same color. Above two sunburnt cheeks peeped two small eyes of blue, ever on a twinkle. He was dressed in the typical suit of the frontiersman of that day, buckskin leggings, coonskin cap and all.
"So you dinks dare vos more fun py me as mit von parrel of vasps, hey?" went on the Dutch trapper. "Vell, how apout dot dime ven you vos going to git dot pird's nest in der hollow dree und you stick your hand py dat vasps' nest, hey? Vosn't dot funny, hey? Ha! ha! ha! I see dot yet--mit you dancing arount like you vos a sailor on a pipe-horn, eh?"