the new arrival was hero the hound. he came on the scene with a rush and proceeded straight to business.

he did not need to pause to take in the situation, but with a faint whine and short yelp he bounded for the savage buck, which did not see him until they collided. but the old fellow was game. though he had fled in a wild panic when the baying of the dog rang through the woods, yet now that he was at bay he fought like a trojan.

realizing that it was a fight for life, he whirled about, lowered those 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 a chance to seize his victim by the throat.

now was the time for the young hunters to put in the finishing touches, for the buck was so occupied with his new assailant that he could give them no attention.

bob budd dared not crawl from under the tree and run for his gun lying some yards away, which would have to be re-loaded before it could be of use to him.

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

tom wagstaff was persuaded that he was safe so long as he remained astride of the limb where he had perched himself with such haste when the buck gave him a lively chase, and if he knew his own heart (as he was confident he did) he did not mean to descend from his elevation and run the risk of being elevated or bored by the antlers of the vicious buck.

“by the time i can get down there and get hold of my gun he will have the dog knocked out and then he’ll start for me, and where will ibe? no; i had enough hard work to climb up here and i’ll stay.”

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 prolonged one, though it looked as if the fine beast would have to succumb in the 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 of those antlers would have been enough, but the agility of hero saved him each time. when the horny weapons were lowered and the buck made a rush which seemed sure to impale the canine, he sprang nimbly aside like a skillful sparrer, still on the alert for an opening.

the deer displayed an intelligence that hardly would have been expected at such a time. he avoided rearing on his hind legs, and trying to hew his assailant with his fore-paws, as he had sought to do in the case of the youngsters, for such an effort on his part would have given hero the fatal opening he wanted. one lightning-like bound, and his sharp teeth would have closed in the throat of the buck, and there they would have stuck until he gasped his last breath.

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

it was this fact which must have been understood by the buck, that caused him to keep his head lowered and toward the hound, who, despite his rapid darting hither and thither, was unable for a time to catch him off his guard.

it was a forcible commentary on the incompetence and cowardice of the hunters, that there were three of them, all armed and one with both charges in his gun, and yet they dared not interfere while the feinting and striking was going on between the dog and buck.

it must be borne in mind that what i am relating took place in an exceedingly brief space of time.

but the contest, if such it may be called, between the two animals might have continued indefinitely, so far as bob budd and tom wagstaff were concerned.

the latter, as i have explained, was safely perched among the branches of a tree, while his unloaded gun lay on the ground some distance away, and it was certain to lie there until the struggle between hero and the larger animal should be settled.

bob was equally positive that it was his duty to keep himself squeezed beneath the trunk of the oak, though his dread of the animal caused him 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 resolved as the other two to avoid any charge from the buck, reasoning that if neither of his brother rangers was able to stay him with their loaded guns, 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 his gun, which he still held in hand with its two hammers raised and the triggers ready to be pressed.

he inclined to favor the scheme of climbing a tree, where he could open a bombardment at his leisure and smile at the anger of the buck that was so much interested in the hound.

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

you will understand that the same obstacle would be encountered in grasping a limb and lifting himself upward, for a lad who drinks whiskey and smokes cigarettes can never be enough of an athlete to draw 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 in a 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, for he’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 settled over the exciting scene.

the fiery hero saw that he would soon have the buck at his mercy, for the animal was tiring himself out by his savage charges. sometimes he would lower his antlers and dash forward for twenty paces at the dog, which deftly avoided him and saved his strength. then the buck would slowly fall back, all the time maintaining his defiant front and charging again, often before he had fully recovered from his preceding effort.

it was an interesting fact that, during the few minutes occupied by this singular contest, each of the combatants met with a hair-breadth escape, so to speak, from the other.

once when the buck made his rush, hero, in leaping backward, collided with an obstruction on the ground which caused him to roll over and over, and the formidable antlers touched him; but with inimitable dexterity he regained his feet and escaped the sword-like thrust that grazed his skin.

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

it may have been that hero was a victim to some extent of the impatience which the youths around him felt, for seeing an opportunity he bounded like a cannon-ball from the earth at the throat of the buck.

the latter was quick to read the meaning of the crouching figure which left the ground before he could drop his antlers to receive him, else it would have gone ill for the assailant, but the buck flung his head backward just far enough to save his throat from those merciless fangs.

when it is stated that the flesh of the deer just back of his jaws was nipped by the same teeth which could not get a hold deep enough to be retained, it will be admitted that the fellow could not have had a closer call.

but these furious efforts were far more telling upon the larger animal than upon the dog, which could not have failed to understand that he had only to wait a brief while to have the buck at his mercy, and those 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 gathered his muscles for a spring.

a few seconds previous to this crisis jim mcgovern had mastered the idea that there was but one thing to do, and that was to take careful aim at the buck and kill him; no quicker means of ending the danger could be devised than that.

he had learned that a good place into which to send the charge, no matter what the species of the animal may he, is just behind the foreleg, where a well-aimed bullet or charge of shot fired at close quarters, is sure to reach the seat of life.

while running his eye along the barrel the buck turned broadside toward jim, and thrusting one foot forward gave the very opportunity he wanted.

fearful that he would shift his position the next instant, jim discharged both barrels in quick succession.

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

“i didn’t know that deer let out such cries as that when they were shot,” muttered jim, lowering his gun and walking forward, “but i s’pose i sent both charges through his heart—great jewhilakens!”

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

the inevitable consequence of this blunder was that hero lay stretched on the ground as dead as julius cæsar.