The Campers Out; Or, The Right Path and the Wrong

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  CHAPTER XXIII

  A BRILLIANT SHOT

  The new arrival was Hero the hound. He came on the scene with a rushand proceeded straight to business.

  He did not need to pause to take in the situation, but with a faintwhine and short yelp he bounded for the savage buck, which did not seehim until they collided. But the old fellow was game. Though he hadfled in a wild panic when the baying of the dog rang through thewoods, yet now that he was at bay he fought like a Trojan.

  Realizing that it was a fight for life, he whirled about, loweredthose splendid antlers and went for the canine like a steam engine.

  The dog had no wish to be bored through by such formidable weapons,and, with a bark of fear, he leaped back, alert and watchful for achance to seize his victim by the throat.

  Now was the time for the young hunters to put in the finishingtouches, for the buck was so occupied with his new assailant that hecould give them no attention.

  Bob Budd dared not crawl from under the tree and run for his gun lyingsome yards away, which would have to be re-loaded before it could beof use to him.

  But the young man was convinced that the golden opportunity for theothers had arrived, and he did not hesitate to proclaim it in tonesthat could have been heard a half-mile off.

  Tom Wagstaff was persuaded that he was safe so long as he remainedastride of the limb where he had perched himself with such haste whenthe buck gave him a lively chase, and if he knew his own heart (as hewas confident he did) he did not mean to descend from his elevationand run the risk of being elevated or bored by the antlers of thevicious buck.

  "By the time I can get down there and get hold of my gun he will havethe dog knocked out and then he'll start for _me_, and where willIbe? No; I had enough hard work to climb up here and _I'llstay_."

  And so, unmindful of the reproaches and appeals of the howling Bob,Tom continued to play the part of interested spectator.

  The fight between the buck and the hound promised to be a prolongedone, though it looked as if the fine beast would have to succumb inthe end.

  Had he been able to get the dog in a corner where he could not dodge,it is probable he might have finished him, for one terrific ramming ofthose antlers would have been enough, but the agility of Hero savedhim each time. When the horny weapons were lowered and the buck made arush which seemed sure to impale the canine, he sprang nimbly asidelike a skillful sparrer, still on the alert for an opening.

  The deer displayed an intelligence that hardly would have beenexpected at such a time. He avoided rearing on his hind legs, andtrying to hew his assailant with his fore-paws, as he had sought to doin the case of the youngsters, for such an effort on his part wouldhave given Hero the fatal opening he wanted. One lightning-like bound,and his sharp teeth would have closed in the throat of the buck, andthere they would have stuck until he gasped his last breath.

  Not only that, but the hound would have kept his body out of reach ofthe hoofs, while, as a matter of course, the antlers would have beenpowerless against such a determined assailant.

  It was this fact which must have been understood by the buck, thatcaused him to keep his head lowered and toward the hound, who, despitehis rapid darting hither and thither, was unable for a time to catchhim off his guard.

  It was a forcible commentary on the incompetence and cowardice of thehunters, that there were three of them, all armed and one with bothcharges in his gun, and yet they dared not interfere while thefeinting and striking was going on between the dog and buck.

  It must be borne in mind that what I am relating took place in anexceedingly brief space of time.

  But the contest, if such it may be called, between the two animalsmight have continued indefinitely, so far as Bob Budd and Tom Wagstaffwere concerned.

  The latter, as I have explained, was safely perched among the branchesof a tree, while his unloaded gun lay on the ground some distanceaway, and it was certain to lie there until the struggle between Heroand the larger animal should be settled.

  Bob was equally positive that it was his duty to keep himself squeezedbeneath the trunk of the oak, though his dread of the animal causedhim to edge as many inches as he dared toward the opposite side.

  As for Jim McGovern, he was in a quandary. He was as strongly resolvedas the other two to avoid any charge from the buck, reasoning that ifneither of his brother Rangers was able to stay him with their loadedguns, it was improbable that he could do so with his single weapon.

  But somehow or other he felt it incumbent upon him to make use of hisgun, which he still held in hand with its two hammers raised and thetriggers ready to be pressed.

  He inclined to favor the scheme of climbing a tree, where he couldopen a bombardment at his leisure and smile at the anger of the buckthat was so much interested in the hound.

  But the difficulty with this plan was that of taking the weapon intothe branches with him. To make his way up the trunk, he needed the useof all his limbs, arms as well as legs, and it was therefore out ofhis power to carry a heavy gun with him.

  You will understand that the same obstacle would be encountered ingrasping a limb and lifting himself upward, for a lad who drinkswhiskey and smokes cigarettes can never be enough of an athlete todraw himself upward with a single arm.

  At such times as I am describing the most sluggish brain thinks fast,and the thoughts I have named went through the head of Jim McGovern ina twentieth of the time taken to narrate them.

  He was inclined to the theory that he ought to do _something_,though impatient with the continued yelling of Bob.

  "Now's your chance, Jim! What are you waiting for? Shoot quick, forhe'll soon kill the dog and then he'll finish _me_!"

  "If you'll shut up for a minute," shouted Jim, in reply, "I'll shoot,but you're making such an infernal rumpus that I can't take aim."

  At this hint Bob ceased his appeals and something like silence settledover the exciting scene.

  The fiery Hero saw that he would soon have the buck at his mercy, forthe animal was tiring himself out by his savage charges. Sometimes hewould lower his antlers and dash forward for twenty paces at the dog,which deftly avoided him and saved his strength. Then the buck wouldslowly fall back, all the time maintaining his defiant front andcharging again, often before he had fully recovered from his precedingeffort.

  It was an interesting fact that, during the few minutes occupied bythis singular contest, each of the combatants met with a hair-breadthescape, so to speak, from the other.

  Once when the buck made his rush, Hero, in leaping backward, collidedwith an obstruction on the ground which caused him to roll over andover, and the formidable antlers touched him; but with inimitabledexterity he regained his feet and escaped the sword-like thrust thatgrazed his skin.

  No escape could have been narrower, but that which the buck met withinthe same minute was fully as narrow.

  It may have been that Hero was a victim to some extent of theimpatience which the youths around him felt, for seeing an opportunityhe bounded like a cannon-ball from the earth at the throat of thebuck.

  The latter was quick to read the meaning of the crouching figure whichleft the ground before he could drop his antlers to receive him, elseit would have gone ill for the assailant, but the buck flung his headbackward just far enough to save his throat from those mercilessfangs.

  When it is stated that the flesh of the deer just back of his jaws wasnipped by the same teeth which could not get a hold deep enough to beretained, it will be admitted that the fellow could not have had acloser call.

  But these furious efforts were far more telling upon the larger animalthan upon the dog, which could not have failed to understand that hehad only to wait a brief while to have the buck at his mercy, andthose teeth, once buried in the throat of the game, would stay there,as I have said, until the last gasp of life departed.

  By and by Hero saw a better opening than before and instantly gatheredhis muscles for a spring.

  A few seconds previous to this crisis Ji
m McGovern had mastered theidea that there was but one thing to do, and that was to take carefulaim at the buck and kill him; no quicker means of ending the dangercould be devised than that.

  He had learned that a good place into which to send the charge, nomatter what the species of the animal may he, is just behind theforeleg, where a well-aimed bullet or charge of shot fired at closequarters, is sure to reach the seat of life.

  While running his eye along the barrel the buck turned broadsidetoward Jim, and thrusting one foot forward gave the very opportunityhe wanted.

  Fearful that he would shift his position the next instant, Jimdischarged both barrels in quick succession.

  The report was yet ringing through the woods when a rasping howl roseon the air that made the blood of every one tingle.

  "I didn't know that deer let out such cries as that when they wereshot," muttered Jim, lowering his gun and walking forward, "but Is'pose I sent both charges through his heart--_greatJewhilakens_!"

  He had suddenly awakened to the fact that instead of shooting the buckhe had sent both charges into the body of the hound, just as he was inthe act of leaping at the throat of his victim.

  The inevitable consequence of this blunder was that Hero lay stretchedon the ground as dead as Julius Caesar.