by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
THE BATTLE OF THE BUCKS.
"The main object we had in view was not yet accomplished. With theexception of our flock of turkeys, none of the pets we had tamed couldcontribute to our support. We wished to capture some of the deerspecies, and for this purpose we had thought of various expedients. Wehad seen the fawns once or twice following their mothers; but we hadfailed in coming up with them, although we had made several huntingexcursions for that purpose. At length, however, instead of a fawn, wevery unexpectedly captured a couple of old bucks, of the red-deerspecies. The circumstances of this capture were somewhat singular; andI shall detail them minutely as they occurred.
"We had gone out one day, Harry and myself, in search of the deer, andin hopes that we might be able to start, run down a fawn with the dogs,and take it alive. For this we had muzzled both, so that they shouldnot tear the fawn when they came up with it--as I had often seengreyhounds muzzled at home for the same purpose. We went up the valley,where we should be most likely to fall in with the objects of oursearch; but not knowing how soon a deer might start out of the bushes,we walked along very silently and slowly, watching the woods before us,and listening to every sound. At length we arrived near the edge of asmall opening, as we could tell by the clear breaks through thebranches. It was in these glades or openings that we usually fell inwith the deer; and we advanced with increased caution, each of usholding a dog in the leash which we had made for them. All at once asingular noise reached our ears, evidently coming from the glade. Itsounded as if several large animals were stamping furiously over thefirm turf; but in the midst of this there was a constant cracking ofsome hard substances, as if half-a-dozen men were playing with eagernessat the game of single-stick. Every now and then we could hear a strangesound, short and fierce, like the snorting of a horse. Of course, Harryand I stopped in our tracks the moment we first heard these singularnoises. Our dogs cocked their ears, and wanted to spring forward; butwe held them both tightly on their strings, while we listened. For thelife of us, neither I nor my companion could guess what was going on inthe glade.
"`What can it be, papa?' said Harry.
"`I haven't the slightest idea,' replied I.
"`It must be animals,' said he, `and a good many of them, too, to makeso much stamping. Papa, is not that the snort of a deer? I think Ihave heard deer make just such a noise.'
"`Maybe it is. Perhaps it may be elk; but what can cause such acommotion among them, I wonder?'
"`What think you,' suggested Harry, `if they are fighting with someanimal--a panther, or perhaps a bear?'
"`If so,' said I, `our best plan would be to get back the road we came,and that as speedily as possible. But I do not think it is that. Theywould not stand to fight such creatures. Both elk and deer trust totheir heels rather than horns to escape from bears and panthers. No, itis not that; but let us creep forward, and see what it is, anyhow. Holdfast to your dog. Come!'
"We crouched forward with the utmost caution, taking care not to treadupon the dry leaves and dead branches that lay across our track. We sawbefore us a thicket of pawpaws; and we made towards this--knowing thatthe broad green leaves of these bushes would screen us. We were soonamong them; and a few paces farther through the thicket brought us infull view of the glade. There we saw what had caused all the strangenoises, and which still continued as loud as ever.
"In the middle of the glade there were six red-deer. They were allbucks, as we could easily tell from their great branching antlers. Theywere engaged in fierce and terrible conflict--sometimes two and two, andsometimes three or four of them, clumped together in a sort of general_melee_. Then they would separate again; and going some distance apart,would wheel suddenly about, and rush at each other with furious snorts--first striking forward with their forefeet held close together, and thengoring one another with their sharp horns, until we could see the skintorn open, and the hair flying from them in tufts. Their eyes wereflashing like fire, and their whole actions betokened that the animalswere filled with rage and fury.
"I saw at once what all this meant. It was now the rutting season; andthese chivalrous bucks were engaged in desperate combat about some fairdoe, as is their yearly habit.
"They were too distant for either Harry's rifle or mine; and thinkingthey might fight themselves a little nearer, we determined to remainwhere we were, and watch. The combat continued to rage furiously.Sometimes a pair of them came together with such violence that both wentrolling over to the earth; but in a moment they would up, and at itagain, as fiercely as ever.
"Our attention was particularly directed to two of the combatants, thatwere larger and older than any of the others--as we could tell from thegreater number of points upon their antlers. None of the others seemeda match for either of these two, who had at length singled each otherout as worthy antagonists, and fought separately. After goring andstamping a while, they parted--as if by mutual consent--and walkedbackward until they had got at least twenty yards from each other. Thensetting their necks, and putting all their energy into the rush, theydashed forward, and met head to head, like a couple of rams. There wasa terrible crashing among their antlers; and Harry and I looked to seewhether a pair of them had not been knocked off in the concussion; butit appeared not. After this, the two struggled for a while, and thensuddenly paused--still head to head--as though by a tacit agreement, inorder to take breath. For some moments they stood quietly in thisattitude, and then once more commenced struggling. After a while theystopped again, still keeping their heads together, so that their redexpanded nostrils steamed into each other. We thought that they foughtquite differently from all the rest; but our eyes were now drawn to theothers, who were getting nearer us; and we prepared our rifles toreceive them. At length several came within range; and, each of uschoosing one, we fired almost simultaneously. At the double crack oneof the bucks fell; and the other three, on perceiving the common enemy,immediately desisted from their mutual warfare, and bounded off likelightning. Harry and I rushed forward, as we had fired; and thinkingthat the deer which we had missed--it was Harry's miss that time--mightbe wounded, we unmuzzled the dogs, and let them after. Of course, wehad stooped down to perform this operation. What was our surprise, onlooking up again, to see the two old bucks still in the glade, andfighting, head to head, as briskly as ever!
"Our first thought was to reload our pieces, but the dogs had been letloose; and these, instead of pursuing the other deer, dashed forward atthe bucks, and the next moment sprang upon their flanks. Harry and Irushed after, and you may guess that our surprise was still furtherincreased when we saw the bucks, instead of separating, still strugglehead to head--as if their desperate hostility for each other hadrendered them reckless of every other danger! When we got forward tothe spot, the mastiffs had brought both of them to their knees; and nowfor the first time we perceived the true cause why they had continuedtheir singular combat--because they could not help themselves--their_antlers were locked in each other_! Yes,--held as firmly as if theyhad been lashed together by thongs cut out of their own hides. Indeed,far more firmly, for after we had beaten off the dogs, and secured theanimals from the chance of escaping, we found their horns sointerlocked--one pair within the other--that we could not separate themwith all our efforts. We had sadly wronged the poor old bucks, inbelieving them so desperately pugnacious. Their hostile feelings foreach other had long since ceased--no doubt the moment they foundthemselves in such a terrible fix--and they now stood, nose to nose,quite frightened-like, and `down in the mouth,' as if vexed at the messthey had got themselves into by their bad behaviour.
"Harry and I, after much pulling and hammering, found it quiteimpossible to make two of them. The antlers, which, as you know, areelastic, had bent with the terrible concussion we had witnessed; and itwas far beyond our strength to bend them back again. In fact, nothingbut a machine of horsepower could have accomplished that. I sent mycompanion, therefore, after Cudjo
and his handsaw--at the same timedirecting him to bring the horse and cart, for the carcass of the buckwe had shot, as well as some ropes for our captives. While he was gone,I employed my time in skinning the dead animal, leaving his livecompanions to themselves: I had no fear of their being able to escape.Cowed and sullen as both of them looked, it was well for them--since wedid not mean to butcher them--that we had arrived upon the ground as wedid. Otherwise their fate was a settled one. The wolves, or some otherof their numerous enemies, would have treated them worse than weintended to do; or even had they not been discovered by these, theirdoom was sealed all the same. They might have twisted and wriggledabout for a few days longer, to die of thirst and hunger, still lookedin that hostile embrace. Such is the fate of many of these animals.
"Cudjo soon arrived with the necessary implements; and, after hobblingboth the bucks, we sawed one of the branches from their antlers, and setthem asunder. We then put all three into the cart, and returnedtriumphant to the house."