CHAPTER XXII
THE FIGHT WITH THE BUCK
"Look out!"
These were the only words Henry had time to utter and as they left hislips he leaped to one side as swiftly as possible.
Hardly knowing what Henry meant, Dave and Barringford stood theirground, looking first one way and then another.
On the instant the big buck came forward. His rush was aimed at Henry,but missing that youth, he went onward with a wild plunge, directlybetween Dave and Barringford.
"A buck!" yelled the frontiersman. "Back out, Dave, an' be quick aboutit!"
He himself started on a run, reloading his rifle as he went. Dave wantedto do as bidden, but he had been so surprised that before he could turnhis heel caught on a rock and down he went flat on his back. His gunstruck on the trigger and went off, the charge tearing over the top ofthe cave into the tree branches beyond.
Dave was now helpless and if the truth must be told the fall had morethan half dazed him, for his head came down on a spot that was far fromsoft and comfortable. More than this, with an empty gun he could do butlittle to defend himself.
The big buck had now come to a halt and turned around. He stood as ifuncertain whether to renew the attack or take to his heels. Then hegazed at his mate and a strange red light shone in his angry eyes. Hewas "blood struck," as old hunters call it, and drawing in a sharp,hissing breath, he leaped forward once again, straight for Dave, who wasnow trying to rise.
He leaped forward once again, straight for Dave.]
Bang! It was now Henry's gun that spoke up, and though the aim was notof the best--for Henry was excited because Dave was in such direperil--the buck was struck in the shoulder and badly wounded. He leapedback and into the air, and when he came down lifted his right foreleg asif in intense pain. But he was still full of fight and now he came ononce more, with eyes glittering more dangerously than ever.
Dave had not time to rise, so he did the next best thing, which was toroll over and over, until a clump of brush stopped his further progress.Then he slipped into the brush, worming his way to the other side.
The big buck came on and struck the brush a stunning blow that sent thestalks and twigs flying in all directions. Then the animal backed outand started for Henry, who had begun to reload.
All this had happened faster than I can relate it, yet it had givenBarringford sufficient time to throw powder and ball into his gun andfix the priming. Now the old hunter came close to the side of the buckand blazed away once more, straight for those reddish eyes.
The shot was a telling one, for it tore out one eye completely andseriously damaged the other. Again the buck halted, and then turnedslowly back and began to stagger off. But he could not see and in amoment more hit the rocks of the cave with a crash that could be heardfor a considerable distance.
"Good for you, Sam!" cried Henry, who was now reloading. "I reckon we'vegot him."
"Don't be too sure," returned the old hunter. "He's got lots of fight inhim yet."
Barringford was right, for again the buck turned and now catching aglimpse of Barringford through the blood of his wounds made a mightyleap for the frontiersman. But Barringford was too quick for him andleaping aside, sprang on the rocks of the cave, satisfied the woundedbuck could not follow him to that spot.
By this time Henry had reloaded, and watching his chance he ran up andlet drive for the buck's neck. This shot proved fatal, and rocking toand fro for several seconds the magnificent beast at last fell down onhis side, and breathed his last.
"Is he--he dead?" came from Dave, as he pulled himself out of the tangleof brushwood.
"I think he is," replied his cousin. "But we had better make sure. Bucksare mighty tricky at times."
Taking out his hunting knife Henry went forward and cut the throat ofthe game. Then Barringford leaped from the rocks, and all went toinspect the buck.
"A regular monarch of the forest!" cried Dave, enthusiastically. "Don'tknow as I've ever seen a larger."
"Nor I," added Barringford. "An' he was a fighter, too, wasn't he?"
"We've got more deer meat now than we know what to do with," went onDave.
"We don't want the meat of this buck," said Henry. "It would be as toughas all get-out. We can take the skin and some of the meat from thatdeer, and that will be enough; don't you say so, Sam?"
"Right you are, lad."
All were experienced in the work at hand, so it did not take them longto skin both beasts and then the best of the deer meat was cut out byBarringford and rolled up in one of the pelts.
After this the march forward was again resumed.
That night they slept in the open, near a generous camp-fire, withoutbeing disturbed, and by sunrise were again on their way. They reachedCherry Run--a collection of half a dozen cabins--a little after noon,and here exchanged the skins and some of the meat for other things ofmore importance to them.
"There is a Dutch hunter here, who is going to join General Johnson,"said the pioneer who gave them other things for their skins. "His nameis Hans Schnitzer. Perhaps he'd like to go along with you--if you wanthim."
"What, old Dutch Hans, the beaver hunter!" exclaimed Barringford. "Whycertainly I'd like him along. Thar's more fun in him nor in a barrel o'wasps. Whar is he?"
"He vos right here," came a voice from behind Barringford, and a short,stout individual stepped forward. His hair was red and his shock of abeard bore the same color. Above two sunburnt cheeks peeped two smalleyes of blue, ever on a twinkle. He was dressed in the typical suit ofthe frontiersman of that day, buckskin leggings, coonskin cap and all.
"So you dinks dare vos more fun py me as mit von parrel of vasps, hey?"went on the Dutch trapper. "Vell, how apout dot dime ven you vos goingto git dot pird's nest in der hollow dree und you stick your hand py datvasps' nest, hey? Vosn't dot funny, hey? Ha! ha! ha! I see dot yet--mityou dancing arount like you vos a sailor on a pipe-horn, eh?"
"Gosh! don't mention it, Hans," returned Barringford, ruefully. "I kinfeel them pesky wasps yet, fer they war the biggest I ever ran across.But put it thar, old boy, I'm downright glad to see you--an' after allthe fightin' we've been a-havin', too. I suppose ye broke loose, didn'tye?"
"Vell I dinks me so," said Hans Schnitzer. "I vos up py dot MohawkValley, und I got me into nine fights by von veek vonce, und fourteenfights after dot." He removed his cap. "See dot mark? Dot is vere twoInjuns tried to kill me--von mit a tomahawk und der udder mit hisshcalpin' knife--dinking I vos dead. But I vasn't dead. I chumped up undve rasselled und rasselled, und I got dem poth down ven, vot youdinks?--Cheneral Johnson himself come up--und dot vos der last of doseInjuns putty quick I can tole you."
"Good for the general," said Barringford. Then turning, he introducedDave and Henry, and a general conversation ensued. The boys liked HansSchnitzer from the start, and having often heard of the comical Dutchtrapper, soon felt at home with him. Schnitzer knew exactly where SirWilliam Johnson's camp was located, and promised to take the party thereby the shortest and easiest trail.
The party of four left Cherry Run early the next morning, each in thebest of spirits, Schnitzer gaily humming a song of the Fatherland. Thetrail led almost due north, until a small stream was reached. Here, in aconvenient spot, the Dutch trapper had a canoe secreted. This theyentered and followed the stream for a distance of thirty miles, whenthey again struck out on foot, this time over the hills leading into thebeautiful Mohawk Valley.
Day after day passed without anything unusual happening. Game was to behad in plenty, and it often made Henry heart-sick to leave it behindwithout taking a shot.
"A regular Paradise!" he said. "When this war is over, how I would liketo come up here and knock around for a few weeks. I reckon I could makeit well worth while."
"You'll find game just as plentiful at father's post on the Kinotah,"answered Dave. "If father can ever get the post back, you must make atrip out there with me."
Ever since leaving home Dave had wanted to see a bear, and one day, justbefor
e the sun was setting, his wish was gratified. But the game was toofar away for shooting, and before they could get closer the bear took tohis heels and went crashing out of sight in the brushwood.
"Never mind, lad, we'll go b'ar huntin' another day," said Barringford,consolingly. "Jest fer the present, we have other ground ter plough, asthe sayin' goes."
At the end of ten days the journey began to grow tiresome to the boys,and they were glad when Schnitzer announced that another day would morethan likely bring them in sight of General Johnson's camp.
That night they encamped on the bank of the Mohawk, in an ideal spotcovered with brush and some timber. All were thoroughly tired, for theday's tramp had been a long one, and Dave and Henry were glad whenpreparations for supper were at an end and there was nothing more to dothan to eat and go to sleep.
It had been a clear day, but with the coming of night, the sky hadclouded over, showing that a storm was not far off, although neitherBarringford nor Hans the trapper thought it would rain before morning.
"Put ven it does come, I dink me it vos come hardt," said Schnitzer."Maype it vos rain for two or fife days, eh?"
"Oh, I hope it doesn't rain as long as that!" cried Dave. "Why, we'll bedrowned out."
The wood was piled on the fire, and a little later all lay down to rest,and it did not take Henry and Dave long to reach the land of dreams.They lay on one side of the cheerful blaze while the two men lay on theother. The wind was blowing the smoke from the fire directly across theriver, so this did not bother them.
Dave had been asleep three hours when he suddenly awoke and gave acough. Thinking that he was in danger of being smothered by the smoke hesat up and gazed at the fire. The wind had shifted slightly, but notenough to do any harm.
"No use of waking up the others," he thought. "They need every bit ofsleep they can get. That wood is about burnt out anyway, so there won'tbe much more smoke."
He was about to lie down again, when the snapping of some brushwoodbehind him caught his ear. Turning he caught sight of an Indiancrouching in the bushes gazing at him. Then came a noise from anotherdirection and four other redmen glided into view. All were armed withguns, and at once Dave realized that the camp was surrounded.
Marching on Niagara; Or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier Page 25