CHAPTER X
THE TWANG OF A BOWSTRING
"I'D like to do that first-rate," Roger replied, at the same timepassing hastily over to his horse, in order to get the bow, with hisquiver of arrows.
"It just happens, luckily," Dick whispered, having fastened his horseto a tree, "that the wind is in our favor, because we're to leeward ofthe elk, and they will not get scent of you creeping up."
"How about cover?" asked Roger, as, with a hand that trembled a littlein spite of his efforts to appear calm, he commenced to bend the stouthickory bow on his knee, and slip the loop of cord over the notched end.
"You'll have to pick your own as you find it," came the reply. "Ididn't have a chance to see what it was like; but there ought to besome way to creep close up, so as to get in a shot. I only hope youmanage to put an arrow where it will count. Some elk steaks wouldtaste pretty fine, let me tell you, Roger."
"I'll do my level best," was the reply of the archer, as, havingarranged the otterskin quiver over his left shoulder, so that he couldquickly pull out a second feathered shaft, should it be needed in ahurry, he fitted the one he had retained to the bowstring, and thenprepared to advance toward the spot where Dick had noted the feedingelk.
"Easy, now, Roger," for Dick knew the other's failings, and many a timehad his admonition stilled a tumult in the heart of the nervous lad,causing him to get a grip on himself, and come out of some enterprisewith credit.
Roger was a born hunter, at least. Few border lads could creep up on asuspicious quarry more quietly than he. Part of this was an inheritedtrait; but he had also been much in the company of a young Indian bravewho used to visit at the St. Louis settlement before his people wentfurther West; and from him Roger had picked up many valuable points.
He now bent down, and glided noiselessly along until he could seethrough an opening in the underbrush, when he, too, caught sight of theelk.
The sight thrilled the young hunter, and caused him to shut his teethhard together as he resolved to do his very best to get in a fatalshot. The fact that he knew his cousin would surely be watching himseemed to lend Roger additional faculties; and when he finally droppeddown, and commenced to do his creeping, he was in a mood to excel allprevious efforts.
Once in a while, as he "snaked" his way from bush to bush, takingadvantage of every possible screen, the lad would lift his head justa little to take an observation. And thus he learned that there werethree elk in the band, as far as he could see just then, althoughothers might be lying down where they were hidden from observation.
First there was the buck, a big fellow with a pair of towering antlersthat looked particularly dangerous; then there was a cow; and finally ahalf-grown calf.
It was upon this last that Roger had fastened a covetous eye, for heknew that the meat of both the older animals would very likely provepretty tough eating, and just then he was after a supply of food,rather than a skin from which to make moccasins, or a new fringedborderman's jacket.
As his cousin had said, the wind was just where he most wanted it,blowing directly from the feeding animals toward the place where hewas edging his way along, foot by foot, careful not to make the leastmovement that the elk might notice and take the alarm.
Keeping a close watch upon them now, Roger tried to suit his movementsto their own; that is, he waited until the three had their heads downwhile cropping the sweet grass that grew in the glade. At such a timehe crept a little closer.
These golden opportunities did not come as frequently as he wished, forit seemed to him as though the elk had some arrangement whereby theytook turn-about in keeping a suspicious eye around, one doing this dutywhile the other two fed. Still, now and then a chance came, of which hewas always quick to make use.
Ten, fifteen minutes had passed, and by that time he felt that he wasin a position to make a fair shot if it became necessary to do so ina hurry. He figured on trying his skill, even should the elk suddenlytake the alarm, and start to run away. Roger had practised long anddevotedly at moving targets, and delighted in being able to hit arunning animal, just as an Indian, born to the bow, might have done.
Still, he felt that he would like to get a little nearer to theyoungster before trying to get in his work. Fresh meat meant a gooddeal to them just then, since it would fill a long-felt want, and atthe same time help to preserve their priceless ammunition. And underthese conditions the boy was bound to make as sure of his aim aspossible.
With most species of ordinary antelope and deer the young is calleda fawn; but even in those days, with so large an animal as an elk,a moose, or a buffalo, it was known as a calf; and so the boys hadlearned to term it.
Peering out from behind the clump of bushes that served him as his lastscreen, Roger saw just one more good hiding-place close at hand, ifonly the chance arose whereby he could reach it.
He did not want to lie flat on his face from now on, and wriggle alonglike a crawling snake; because while in that position he would not beable to shoot quickly, should the elk take the alarm.
So he meant to wait again until all three of the animals seemed tobe engaged in feeding, when he would creep stealthily forward. Hecould keep his eye fastened on the elk, and if one of them startedto raise its head Roger would instantly become as rigid as a stump;and possibly, if the animal noticed him at all, it would take hismotionless figure for some such harmless thing.
But fortune was very kind to the young hunter. He managed to gain thenew covert without having to halt once; which he considered a luckything indeed. And it can be set down as certain that, having held hisbreath pretty much all the time he was making this critical changeof base, Roger heaved a great sigh of relief when he found he hadsucceeded in his undertaking, and that, so far as he could see, theusually timid elk had not shown the least sign of alarm.
Now would come the test of skill, when he was to gradually raisehimself until on his knees, and, taking sure aim, send hiskeen-pointed arrow straight at the flank of the youngster, fortunatelynearer to him than either of the others.
Roger tried to still his rapidly beating heart. Strange how excitedhe always grew at a time when he needed all the coolness he couldsummon. Had it been Dick, the chances were that he would be perfectlyself-possessed under similar circumstances, and able to do his levelbest; whereas a fellow who finds himself trembling as with the "buckague" is placed under a handicap. And yet Roger had brought many a finedeer low with his trusty gun, during all the time that he had rangedthe woods and open country in search of game for the family at home.
Having in some measure managed to get control over his nerves, he nowprepared to carry out his plans.
First of all it was necessary that the elk be feeding at the samemoment, and it seemed to the impatient Roger that one of them was onthe lookout all of the time.
But in the end his chance did come; perhaps in less time than heimagined, for Roger was apt to count seconds as minutes when laboringunder such a strain.
No sooner had the big buck lowered his head than gradually the form ofthe hunter arose from the midst of the clump of grass. The sturdy bowwas extended, clutched in a hand that no longer trembled, but was asfirm as a rock; the other started to draw back the arrow, the notchedend of which was fitted on the taut cord.
Roger could have asked for no better chance than the one now presentedto him, for by the greatest of good luck the side of the calf wastoward him, and its left foreleg advanced, giving him a splendidopening to speed his arrow straight at a vital point behind that sameshoulder.
So Roger let fly. The hurtling shaft shot through the sunlight likea thing of life, the eagle feathers with which it was plumed simplyshowing to a practised eye the direction in which it sped.
There was heard a slight thud as the arrow struck. The calf was seen tostart violently, while both the buck and the doe looked up, and jumpedseveral feet.
Then all three started to run off, though it was instantly seen by theyoung hunter that the calf faltered, and grew weak from the effect
ofthe death-dealing barb that had pierced its side.
Roger had instinctively thrown up his hand and drawn another arrow fromhis quiver, which he was even then adjusting to his bowstring. He hadseveral reasons for doing this. In the first place his hunter instinctadvised him that it was always best to be on the safe side; for therecould be no telling but what that savage old buck would get over hisfright, and turn to offer battle to the enemy. And in that open place,with not even a friendly tree to offer him refuge from those uglyantlers, Roger had no heart for the job of meeting an enraged beast,capable of doing him serious damage before Dick could come to therescue with his rifle.
But the young elk had evidently received a fatal wound, for it ran onlya dozen yards, when it began to stagger.
Just then, as Roger, having fitted his second arrow, was in the act oftaking a swift aim, so as to be ready to make assurance doubly certain,to his astonishment he heard a peculiar twang that sounded like thesnap of a bowstring.
And, as he arose to his feet to start forward after the woundedanimal, just falling to the ground, he believed that he saw a secondarrow sticking from its side.
The first instinct of the hunter is to make sure of his quarry; and soRoger hastened to run forward. He kept a wary eye on the other elk,however, to see that the possessor of those tremendous antlers did notturn back, with the idea of giving battle to the strange enemy on twolegs, so different from the four-footed wolves and panthers which hehad known in the past.
But somehow this did not come to pass. Either the buck failed to graspthe full nature of the disaster that had befallen his little family;or else, catching a whiff of human foes about that time, fear haddominated valor. At any rate he sped out of sight, with the frighteneddoe ahead of him--at least the buck was gallant enough to hang back,and protect the rear.
Roger went as fast as he could toward the fallen calf, pleased to knowthat he had been so successful in his little hunt, and that they wouldhave fresh meat for some time to come.
As he ran he seemed to understand, as though through instinct, thatthere was some one else pushing ahead on one side of him; but, beingin such desperate haste to plant a foot on the fallen game first, hecould not even take the time to look.
He heard a distant whoop from Dick, which, however, fell on deaf earsif it was intended as a warning. Roger was an obstinate boy, and,having taken a notion to accomplish a certain thing, he could not beeasily discouraged or influenced to give up his design.
There the young elk lay, and in plain sight, so that, rushing up, Rogerhad no difficulty in placing his right foot on the still quiveringbody, by that act making it known to whoever disputed his claim that heintended to stand by his rights.
It happened that the animal had fallen so that its wounded side layuppermost, and one of the first things the young hunter noticed wasthe fact that there were _two_ arrows deeply imbedded there; hisown well-known eagle-feathered shaft, and one that had the token ofthe gray goose fastened to its end in a peculiar circling manner,calculated to influence its steadiness of flight.
Then, casting his eyes up, Roger saw the figure of hisrival--apparently an Indian, though dressed in tanned buckskin afterthe manner of white hunters, and gripping a bow in his left hand.
The other was staring hard at the boy, as though astounded to findhimself face to face with a young paleface, never before known in thisparticular section.
And there they stood, each with a foot advanced, and a look of defianceon their faces, as though ready to dispute title to the possession ofthe dead elk.
The Pioneer Boys of the Missouri; or, In the Country of the Sioux Page 13