“That’s right,” said Uncle Ely. 
One scrubby oak tree near the water hole had be- 
gun to turn a little brown. A few of its leaves had 
red tints, for autumn was approaching. 
Suddenly, through the leaves of this tree, came the 
antlers. A huge buck deer thrust his head out and 
looked at the water. He was still for a few seconds, 
then he stepped out in full view. 
What a picture he made! 
Buck and Ginger held their breath, not daring even 
to whisper. Here was a real, live, wild deer, one of 
the finest of American animals. They knew he would 
be afraid of them, and would instantly dash away if 
