CHAPTER XIII.
BIRDS OF A FEATHER.
When Eli Perkins left the camp on that memorable afternoon with Cuthbert's fine rifle on his shoulder, he did have a card up his sleeve, so to speak.
Not that Eli was not intent on securing game for the pot, and meant to keep an eye out for anything in the shape of a deer that he could bag; for he had long desired to shoot that dandy gun, the envy of his soul, and as yet the opportunity to use it on a gallant stag had not been forthcoming, though he had often carried it forth when the time seemed propitious.
But Eli had been looking around ever since they landed, and it was his settled conviction that the country in that section had all the color of a copper region.
Copper was Eli's little god.
He eternally dreamed of some day finding a ledge of such incredible richness as would make all previous discoveries sink into utter insignificance; and from his delightful share of the profits from the mine he meant to satisfy that yearning for seeing foreign lands; for long had he looked forward to the time to come when he could visit Egypt, Turkey, Russia, Germany and all those countries he had read so much about.
His only prospect of ever getting there, in his mind, lay in this discovery of copper, and copper haunted him day and night.
Cuthbert knew all about his yearning, and in his own mind had long since arranged it so that Eli would share his next trip abroad; but the other knew not what luck was awaiting him and so he kept thinking of this happy find, and his eyes were constantly on the watch for "signs." And now more than ever before he was convinced that he must be in a country where there was undiscovered copper veins.
That no one has as yet stumbled upon them did not strike the lad as strange, for he knew that those who stalked through this wilderness were, for the most part, ignorant trappers or Indians, who would not know the value of a find if they fell over the richest outcropping ever found.
Eli had studied up the subject in his leisure hours for some years past, and was fully posted on all that pertained to its various branches.
So while he was walking ahead and looking with one eye for big game his other optic was on the alert for any signs of an outcropping of the rich metal that had been given the place of honor in his heart.
This accounted in some measure for his eccentric advance; for many times he turned aside to bend low over some suspicious spot where his keen eye had detected symptoms of a deposit.
Although disappointment came again and again Eli never despaired, for he was certain he would sooner or later come upon that which he meant to have, and the delay, while aggravating, could not crush his spirits.
Twice later on he found reason to believe he was getting nearer the object of his ambition, for the signs were certainly growing stronger; and thus he was being lured further and further away from the camp.
Then came the moment when he sighted the deer through the bushes, and all his hunter instinct was aroused by the sight.
He began to creep forward, his finger upon the trigger of the gun, and a sense of delicious uncertainty thrilling his nerves.
Just as the observant Owen later on declared, he did get down on one knee several times, intending to shoot; but finding that the deer had not shown any indication of alarm, he had concluded to advance a bit further, in order to make doubly certain.
Eli knew that he was sure of that buck, for he had perfect faith in his own abilities as a marksman, when within such short range; and as for the quality of Cuthbert's pet rifle, that went unquestioned.
Finally he took a quick aim and fired.
It had been the report of his gun that floated away back to the camp, and was heard by his two comrades about half an hour before dark.
Eli deliberately pumped another cartridge into the chamber with one speedy movement of his hand, as he had done many times in practice, and then ran forward to where he had last seen the deer.
He knew full well that it had gone down in a heap, for he had seen as much while he was in that instant placing the rifle in condition for further work; and hence he was not in the least surprised to find the noble animal kicking its last when he arrived upon the spot.
Eli was not an enthusiastic hunter; indeed, as a usual thing, he had been pretty well satisfied to let Cuthbert do most of the shooting and fishing of the trip; but when it came to disposing of the cooked product while they sat around the camp fire, he was right in the game, for Eli's one weakness was his appetite, and he never seemed to have enough.
He placed the rifle against a neighboring tree, and, drawing his hunting knife, proceeded first of all to bleed the deer, after which he started to work cutting it up, for it was too heavy by long odds to think of trying to carry the whole carcass to camp, now more than a mile distant.
So busily engaged was he in this work that he paid not attention to what was taking place around him, and consequently did not see the shadowy figure that came flitting from tree to tree like a wraith of the great pinelands, finally reaching the oak against which Eli had leaned his gun.
Then a gnarled hand was stretched out and eagerly seized upon the beautiful little Marlin, which was quickly withdrawn from view.
Just then Eli was startled to hear a gruff "Ahem" from a point in front of him, and glancing up hurriedly from his work he discovered a man standing leaning on a long-barreled rifle and surveying him with a sneer on his face.
It was the same fellow who had bunked with them and drank their elegant Java with such gusto--Stackpole, the timber-cruiser.
Eli had not liked his looks when he was in camp, and he certainly saw no reason to change his mind concerning the fellow now, for Stackpole did have a piratical appearance when he scowled or looked scornful.
Instinct compelled Eli to reach out his hand for his gun, even while not removing his eyes from the interloper with the evil cast of features.
When his groping hand failed to connect with the rifle he was compelled to turn his head quickly and saw, to his dismay, that the gun no longer occupied the spot where he had placed it.
At the same moment a second man stepped into view, having his own rifle hung over his shoulder with a strap, while the repeater belonging to Cuthbert was resting in his grimy hands.
Eli recognized this worthy immediately, nor was he very much surprised to see him there, since Owen had declared it to be his belief that they might run across him sooner or later.
He remembered how they had met him some weeks earlier, and also how he had made up that chart for Cuthbert, for a consideration, which since that time had proven so very unreliable, and which the Canadian lad pronounced utterly worthless.
It was Dubois, the greasy woods-ranger, fit comrade for the ungainly and grinning Stackpole.
He stood there looking at the boy and nodding his head.
"Well, well, if it ain't Eli Perkins alive and in ther flesh! Who'd ever a thort tew see yer up hyer?
I allowed thet p'raps yer boys mighter come part way, but it does beat all how some fools air taken keer ov.

Thank yer kindly fur this yer purty little gun, Eli.

Reckon I kin soon git ther hang o' the way ye work thet pump bizness.

Anyhow, I'm willin' ter larn.

Hold on, now, jest keep yer distance, er somethin' not down on ther bill'll happen ter ye, boy!" was the way Dubois addressed him.
Of course, Eli felt angry, but he saw that they had him trapped neatly enough, and he was not the fool the other would try to make out.
At least he had had considerable experience with just such fellows as these and knew how far one could go in conducting negotiations with their breed.
Eli had a streak of caution and also a bit of cunning in his make-up; doubtless he had found need of both in his dealings with the huskies to be met with in the Michigan lumber camps, where brute strength counts for more than education.
It evidently behooved him to play "lame duck," just as the mother mallard does in order to deceive the wandering egg hunter, and lead him away from her nest.
So Eli simply chose to look foolish, and stood there grinning and saying not a word.
He was a good hand at playing the game of "wait," and perhaps in time his chance would come to knock up their hand, and call the deal.
"I see yer hev cut up ther deer all hunky-dory, Eli.