HOW JERRY WAS TREED
Jerry, that same morning, reached the camp of the old trapper without
any trouble.
He did not find Jesse Wilcox at home; but, knowing something of the
trapper's habits, he made himself comfortable, and waited.
After a time the other showed up. He carried a tidy bunch of fur along
with him, having stopped to remove the pelts on the way.
"Glad to see ye, Jerry. Looky here, one fine fox, and, would ye believe
it, actually a mink, boy! That ere pelt orter bring me a twenty, all
right. That's why I'm so tickled, ye see. This shore must be one o' my
lucky days. Make yerself to hum. Come to take a snack o' dinner along
with me, I reckons, eh?"
"Well, I might wait up and have a bite if you don't keep me too long. You
see I mean to make a roundabout trip into that stretch of woods you told
us about I'd like the worst kind to get a crack at a deer. That would be
worth while, Jesse."
"Then I'll get busy right away. But p'raps ye'd better defer that ere
trip fur a day or so, lad," remarked the trapper, sweeping an eye upward.
"Why?" asked the boy.
"Thar's some sorter storm broodin', er I'm bad deceived. In course at
this season we don't expect much along that line; but I hev seen a
scorcher come along, even in October. Ten year ago it was, and thar was
quite some timber leveled, I'm tellin' ye."
But Jerry was built along a stubborn line: Having once made up his mind
to do a thing it was very hard for him to break away.
"Oh! I don't bother about a little blow. If it comes to the worst I can
find a hollow tree, and keep pretty dry. Now, I want to see just how you
cook that stew, so I can do it sometime."
The dinner was a success, and, of course, Jerry, being hungry, heartily
enjoyed it. When the meal was finished he arose, and picked up his gun.
"Still of a mind to take that long tramp, air ye?" asked the trapper.
"Why, certainly. I haven't even thought of changing my mind,"
returned the boy.
"Well, I s'pose ye must, then. Only keep yer eye peeled for trouble up
yonder. It's sure goin' to storm; for I feels it in my bones. Besides,
thar's a pack o' measly wild dogs loose in that stretch o' timber."
"Wild dogs?" repeated Jerry, opening his eyes wider.
"Sartin; dogs as has strayed away from ther homes, an' took back to a
wild state. It happens that ways sometimes. Ther call o' the wild,
they name it. Sumpin' seems to pull the critters back, an' they break
away from human kind to roam the woods an' hunt ther livin'. I seen
the pack once or twice, an' I kinder believe ther a-gettin' more
fiercer all the while."
"Wild dogs, eh? How many about are there, Jesse?" asked Jerry, fingering
his shotgun a little nervously.
"From three to five ginerally. Ye see they comes an' goes, so ther ain't
no tellin' jest how big the pack kin be. But ef so be they tackles ye,
son, jest shin up a tree, an' then pick 'em off. That's my ijee,"
remarked the trapper.
Shaking hands, after getting further directions, Jerry hastened away.
It was not long before he found himself in the densest kind of timber. In
fact, he had not seen anything like it since coming to the hemlock camp.
Here and there were little openings, in some of which green grass
grew. It was here the trapper had told him he might possibly find a
deer feeding; and as he made his way along, Jerry kept on the lookout
for signs.
He had been walking much over an hour when he thought he caught a glimpse
of a deer ahead; there was something moving there, at least, and with his
pulses quickened the boy began to slowly and cautiously advance.
Yes, it was a deer, and feeding, too!
The light was none too good under the trees, with that dark threatening
sky over all; but Jerry had keen eyes and he was just now excited at the
prospect of at least getting a shot.
He kept on advancing, taking advantage of every bit of cover that
offered. To his delight the animal did not seem to pay any attention to
him, though raising its head several times to sniff the air suspiciously.
By this time, he had gained a position where he believed he could make
the buckshot in his gun tell, and with as steady a hand as he could bring
to bear, Jerry took aim at the exposed side of the deer.
When he fired the animal fell in its tracks, and, giving a shout, the
exultant young hunter was about rushing forward to secure his quarry when
suddenly his horrified eyes discovered moving figures rushing through the
undergrowth, and heading toward the spot where the deer lay, still
struggling feebly.
Instantly he remembered what the trapper had said. These then were the
wild dogs. Evidently they were hungry, and at the time he shot had been
trying to creep up on the animal which they yearned to make a meal from.
Jerry mechanically threw out the empty shell, and pushed another into the
chamber of his gun. He saw the pack bolt forward, heard the wild clamor
that marked their advance, and then caught the exultant strain in their
noisy yelpings, as they pounced upon the slain deer.
The boy felt more indignant than alarmed. That was _his_ deer, for he had
done the stalking up against the wind; nor was he at all disposed to
allow those greedy curs a chance to tear the quarry to pieces in their
savage way.
Jerry immediately hurried forward, ready to dispute the possession
of the game.
He found the whole pack furiously tearing at the fallen deer, growling,
and exhibiting all the savage nature of wolves.
When the boy shouted they looked up, drew back their lips and looked
furious; but not one gave a sign of obeying him.
"Get out, you brutes! Leave that carcass alone, will you?" he yelled,
waving his gun threateningly.
As if they realized that this human creature meant to dispute their right
to the royal dinner they had found, the four wild dogs started toward
him. They presented a terrible appearance just then, with the blood about
their muzzles, and white fangs exposed.
Perhaps Jerry may have felt a shiver pass over him, but that did not
prevent him from raising his gun and deliberately covering the foremost
of the brutes.
Bang! went the gun. Then arose a tremendous howling, together with
furious snapping sounds. The balance of the pack continued to rush
forward more rapidly than before, leaving the stricken member to roll on
the ground.
Jerry thought it high time he made an ascension, after the manner of that
which had marked the alarm of old Toby at the time the wildcat invaded
the camp. But he wanted to use that other barrel the worst way.
Quickly covering the pack he pulled the trigger. Then, without waiting to
ascertain what the results might be, he started to climb.
This was no easy task, especially when encumbered with a gun, for he
would not think of letting this precious ally go; but there was enough
inspiration in the approaching yelps and growls of the wild dogs to spur
him on to heroic efforts, and, as a consequence, he managed to get beyond
their reach.
It was an old tree in which he happened to have sought refuge. Just then,
however, Jerry was not caring about that, for it was a case of any port
in a storm; and as he said, "beggars should not be choosers."
Quite out of breath, he clung to the rotten limb and proceeded to shout
at the dogs so as to keep them there until he could find a chance to
insert fresh charges in his gun, when he expected to take care of them.
"Hey, you with the collar, ain't you ashamed of yourself to take to such
a pirate life, when you once had a good home, I bet? Say, ain't he a
jim-dandy of a big bouncer, though, and as strong as an ox? I'd just hate
to fall into his maw. Now, hang around a few seconds more, and I've got a
nice surprise for you. If you ever knew what a gun is, I guess you've
forgotten by now."
In this strain he talked to them, and kept both dogs jumping up at him in
the endeavor to get a grip. Sometimes they brushed his dangling foot
with their jaws, and at that Jerry involuntarily drew up a little.
When he had inserted the shells, he tried to get a chance to cover the
big dog. That animal, though, apparently suspected his purpose, and kept
jumping about so wildly that it seemed impossible to aim at him. The
second brute had been wounded so seriously that it had crawled away, so
there were now but two left.
Finally, seeing a good chance to knock over the smaller one of the pair,
Jerry could not resist the temptation.
The animal may once have been a family pet, but a wild existence of some
months, perhaps years, had taken him back to the wild state from which
his ancestors had come ages ago. He was a mangy-looking, dirty white
brute, with eyes that seemed red to the boy in the tree.
At the report of the gun the animal fell over in a kicking heap, for the
distance was so very short that the charge of shot had gone with all the
destructive power of a "forty-four" bullet.
But something not down on the programme immediately followed. The rotten
limb upon which Jerry was hanging, unable to stand the strain of his
weight and movements, gave way with a crash.
He felt a thrill of horror as he found himself being precipitated
downward, knowing as he did that the largest and fiercest of the wild
pack was still there, unhurt save in the way of a few stray shot that had
flecked his tawny hide with tiny blood spots!