But John's instantaneous shot sped through the air and the animal fell
dead from her second bound, the ball having entered the heart. In the
midst of their triumph, John and Micah watched, with relenting eyes
the two hinds, while they took, as on the wings of the wind, their
forlorn flight up the fatal pathway.
Having slung their booty on the boughs of a wide-branching tree, and
taken some refreshment from the supplies in the canoe, Micah declared
himself good for a scramble up the hill to the feeding-ground, a
proposition John readily accepted.
Over rock, bush and brier, up hill and down, for five hours, they
pursued their way with unmitigated zeal and energy. They scaled the
hill, cut by the gorge,--approaching, cautiously, its brow,
overlooking the deer haunt. But they could perceive no trace of the
herd.
"It's abeout as I expected", said Micah, "them two little hinds we
skeered, gin the alarm to the rest on 'em and they've all skulked off
to some covit or ruther. S'pose Captin', we jest make a surkit reound
through the rest of these hills, maybe we'll light on 'em agin".
"Agreed", responded John.
They skirted the enclosure, but without a chance for another shot. As,
about noon, they were rapidly descending the gorge, on their way back
to the promontory, the scene of their morning success, Micah proposed
that they should have "a nice brile out of that fat buck at the pint,
and then put for the settlement".
"Not yet", said John.
Pages:
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139