The Hunters of the Ozark
Page 14
CHAPTER XIV.
A WELCOME ALLY.
Fred Linden, like his companion, aimed directly between the eyes of thestrange beast, and, like him, he struck the mark; but both shots onlyserved to awake the irrestrainable ferocity of the animal, which, withanother rasping howl and parted jaws, bounded toward them. Since bothweapons were discharged, and they had no other firearms, the boys werealmost helpless, and it may be said their enemy was upon them.
"Run!" called out Fred, wheeling about and leaping toward a tree, behindwhich he took refuge; but sturdy Terry had no thought of turning awayfrom such a foe. Throwing one foot back so as to steady himself, heseized his fine rifle with both hands, near to the muzzle, and held itso as to use it as a club or shillaleh.
The brute was so close that he had no more than time to gather hisstrength, and swing the heavy stock with might and main, when the animalbounded at him straight from the ground.
There was a "dull thud," as it may be called, and the stock crashedagainst the side of the beast's head, knocking him a couple of yards tothe left, and almost at the feet of Fred Linden; but in point of factthe blow did no harm except to thwart the creature for a second or two.
He was now snarling, and gave utterance to one or two peculiar barkingsounds like a dog or wolf. His eyes were ablaze, and there could be nodoubt that his fury was at white heat. Crouching for an instant, he madea bound for Terry, before he had time to balance himself to deliver hissecond blow with the same power as the first.
Fred Linden could not stand still and see his companion torn to shredsin that fashion. He leaped from behind the tree, with his gun alsoclubbed, and hastened to strike with all his might; but he was toolate.
It was a curious fact, not understood at the moment, that the savagecreature, although he leaped straight at Terry, passed fully two feetover his head, and that, too, when the lad was standing erect, andbraced to deliver his second blow.
Striking on his belly, several paces beyond, the beast rolled over andover, clawing, snapping, snarling, and beating the air, withlightning-like blows. The leaves and dust flew in all directions, andthe foam which he spat from his jaws was flecked with blood.
He continued rolling and struggling until he was a rod distant, and thensuddenly stopped, stone dead.
In the excitement and swirl of the moment both Fred and Terry wereconscious that their guns were not the only ones that were fired. At theinstant the brute was in the act of rising from the ground a second timefor his leap, the sharp report of another rifle was heard. The peril wasso imminent that the lads could give no attention just then to any thingbut the immediate business in hand; but now, seeing their fearful foewas dead, they knew that it was the third bullet that had done it, andthey glanced around to see who their friend was.
No one was in sight, and they advanced to the carcass, which they weresomewhat timid about touching, even though convinced that it was beyondthe power of doing any more harm. They saw that both of their bulletshad struck the skull, though not at the precise points at which theyaimed. One had passed near the right eye of the nondescript, and musthave inflicted serious injury, but its toughness would have enabled itto keep up the fight, and to have slain both of the boys before theycould have reloaded and fired a second time.
A little search showed where the fatal wound had been given. Just infront of the fore leg the lead had entered and gone through the heart.No animal, so far as known, amounts to any thing after his heart hasbeen torn in twain, though he may live and move for a time.
"I tell you, Terry, that I don't believe there is another beast in thecountry that, after receiving two bullets in the head, like that, couldmake such a fight."
"I begs to corrict ye," said the other; "it was three shots, for do yenot mind that I bored a hole through him when we first made hisacquaintance?"
"So you claimed, but you haven't explained how it was that such a shotcould be made without leaving any wound?"
"It may have healed up since then," suggested the Irish lad, who knew aswell as his companion that the first bullet did not touch the beast.
"I hadn't thought of that," meekly observed Fred; "but there is onething certain, that if that last shot hadn't been fired, it would havebeen the last of us: where could it have come from?" he asked, lookingaround and finding the answer to his question in the sight of Deerfootthe Shawanoe, who came from behind a clump of bushes on the other sideof the small stream.
Fred uttered an exclamation of delight when he recognized the gracefulyoung warrior, who was holding the stock of his gun in his left hand,with the barrel resting idly in the hollow of his right arm. Fredjumped across the brook, with hand extended to greet him.
"I'd rather see you than any person in the world," was the truthfulexclamation of the youth: "when you gave me the letter yesterday Ithought what a splendid trip this would be if Terry would go with me,and behold, he has come! I would have liked to have you too but I didn'tdare say so, for I didn't think it was possible: but ever since westarted I have felt that we only lacked _you_ to make the partycomplete. Now, ain't I glad to see you, and how are you, old fellow?"
The lad in his boisterous way wrung the hand of Deerfoot and slapped himon the shoulder; then laughed, and shook hands again with an enthusiasmthat left no doubt of the cordiality of his welcome.
As for Deerfoot, he showed a gentle dignity that was never absent. Hisfaint smile lit up his handsome face, and he was pleased with thepleasure of the others.
"Deerfoot has seen the faces of his brothers not many times, but itbrings sunshine to his heart to meet them again."
Then his countenance was crossed by an expression of gravity like aneclipse passing over the face of the sun.
"Is my brother ill, that he suffers so much?"
This question referred to Terry Clark, Deerfoot looking over theshoulder of Fred at the Irish lad behind him. Fred heard a curiousnoise, and turned to learn what it meant. His friend had leaned his gunagainst the nearest tree, so as to give his limbs free play, and wasflinging his arms aloft, and dancing a jig with a vigor that made itlook as if his legs were shot out, and back and forth, by some highpressure engine. Now and then he flung his cap aloft, and, as it camedown, ducked his head under and dexterously caught it. His mouth waspuckered up most of the time, while he whistled with might and main,though the energy of his general movements shut out all resemblance to atune. Occasionally he stopped whistling and broke into snatches of songwhich, from the same cause, could not be identified.
Fred Linden laughed. He was demonstrative, but not so much so as Terry.Looking sideways at Deerfoot, he saw his eyes sparkling and the cornersof his mouth twitching. Rarely had he been amused as much as he now wasby the extravagant manifestations of the Irish lad, for whom he hadformed a strong regard.
Deerfoot and Fred having turned their glances toward Terry, the latterappeared to catch sight of them for the first time. With a whoop heflung his hat higher than ever in the air, caught it with right side upon his crown as it came down, and then shouted:
"How are yees, me friends?" and made a dash for them.
In his enthusiasm he forgot the brook running through a small hollowbetween them. His feet went down in the depression without any knowledgeon his part, and he sprawled headlong, his cap rolling at the feet ofDeerfoot, who pushed the toe of his moccasin under the edge, and flungit to him as he rose to his feet.
"It's all the same, and a part of the show," laughed Terry, "as the wifeof the bear-keeper obsarved when the bear ate him up, and it's how areye, and how do ye ixpect to be, and what have ye to say for yersilf, andwhy are ye so long answerin' me quistion?"
Deerfoot simply smiled, and made no reply until Terry had replaced hiscap, and was done with his noisy greeting. Then he pointed to his gunleaning against the tree, and said:
"When my brother is in the woods, he should keep his gun within reach ofhis arm."
"Yer moral sentiments are corrict," remarked Terry, hurrying back--thistime without falling--to regain
his piece. When he once more stoodbeside the laughing Fred, the Shawanoe addressed both:
"Are the guns of my brothers loaded?"
Both felt the rebuke; they had violated one of the elementary rules ofthe hunter's life, which is that the first thing to be done afterdischarging a weapon is to reload it. Fred flushed, for he did notremember that he had ever forgotten it before.
"It was a piece of forgetfulness of which Terry and I ought to beashamed, but it was the first time we had ever had a fight with such abeast as that: what do you call it, Deerfoot?"
The Shawanoe shook his head to signify that he knew of no distinct namefor the animal, but he explained to the boys, what they already knew,that it was a cross of some kind, concentrating in itself, as it seemed,all the power, activity, daring and ferocity of the most dreaded animalsof the woods. Deerfoot could not deny that his shot had saved the boysfrom being torn to shreds by the brute. Had it been a few seconds later,or differently aimed, nothing could have saved them from its fury.