THE ELK AND THE YOUNG HUNTER
"Hey! Hold on, there! That isn't in the game!"
The elk did not seem to care whether it were so or not, but came rushing
straight on. Like many another, more experienced in the ways of the
woods than himself, Bluff almost forgot that he had other charges in his
gun. He was so amazed to see the animal he had fully believed to be dead
show such surprising signs of life, that he stood there for a few
precious seconds, gaping as if in a dream.
Then he made a wild spring to one side and gained the shelter of a tree.
"Oh! What a socker!" he exclaimed, as the enraged and bleeding animal
came full tilt against the trunk of the tree.
Before he could say more, or try to form any plan of action, he found
himself obliged to spin around that same trunk with all the rapidity he
could command, for the elk was apparently determined to overtake him,
and those towering antlers seemed pointed with spikes, in the eyes of
the startled lad as he strained every effort to keep beyond their reach.
Bluff was really alarmed by this time. He knew that any unfortunate slip
on his part would precipitate a tragedy.
"I laughed at Jerry and the wild dogs that chased him around and around,
but never again for me!" he gasped, as he kept up the weary circle,
hugging the trunk as closely as possible.
This, however, caused him to remember that on the other occasion his
chum had finally managed to gain the victory through his own gun, and
Bluff suddenly came to a knowledge of the fact that he did have a gun
gripped in his hand, and which also contained five more shots.
"Hold on! Give me a breathing spell, hang you! I'll fix you yet!" he
managed to exclaim, though he would better have husbanded his breath to
better purpose.
The elk was not a bit accommodating. Perhaps the animal understood that
so long as it kept Bluff in rapid motion the human enemy could not find
a chance to use that fire-stick again, that shot out such burning
missiles. At any rate, it persevered, and poor Bluff's tongue fairly
hung out with fatigue.
In desperation, he was about to turn around, trusting to luck to get in
a shot that would put an end to this awful chase in a circle, when the
elk tripped and fell.
"Now!" gasped Bluff.
You would have thought he must have leveled his gun and fired. Jerry
or Frank would, in all probability, have done that very thing. But
Bluff seemed to go back to the first law of Nature, which is
self-preservation.
He dropped his gun, and seizing a limb that happened to be within reach,
climbed into the tree with the agility of a monkey. Fear spurred him on
to do his best work just then.
"Don't you wish you could?" he shouted derisively down at the elk, which
was jumping up, and making all manner of threatening movements with its
antlered head, much after the fashion of an enraged goat, Bluff thought.
He was safe enough, but somehow Bluff did not like the idea of having to
wait in the tree until his chums, drawn by his calls, came to the
rescue. Why, he would never hear the end of the thing! It was too
horrible to contemplate, and in some fashion he must secure possession
of his gun to end the career of that pugnacious old bull elk.
[Illustration: "DON'T YOU WISH YOU COULD?" HE SHOUTED DERISIVELY DOWN AT
THE ELK.--_Page 98_.
_The Outdoor Chums After Big Game_.]
Bluff had read more or less about the strange adventures that befall
hunters of big game. He also remembered how one man had fished for his
gun, and successfully, under similar conditions.
Having no cord in his pocket, he deliberately tore his handkerchief into
strips and knotted them together. When this failed to reach the ground,
he fastened it to the end of a long and stout "sucker," or sprout, which
he cut from the body of the tree.
A running loop was made at the other end, for he could see that his gun
lay in such a position that the barrel was tilted.
Bluff then began to angle. Many times he came near accomplishing his
purpose, when something occurred to break up his plans.
"I'll never give up," he declared, when the elk moved forward, as if
suspecting something, and endeavored to catch the dangling noose in its
antlers, which Bluff would not have happen for anything.
"If I was trying to catch you, I'd want something stronger than this
rag. Now please wander away again, and let me have another try," he
said; and then, as the animal did walk off a dozen paces, as if
encouraging him to descend, he courteously added, "Thank you."
A minute later he was thrilled to find that his erratic loop had
actually dropped over the end of the gun barrel. A quick jerk at the
proper instant tightened the clutch, and after that it was the easiest
thing in the world to pull the weapon up within reach of his trembling
hands.
"Now, we'll see if you're going to have the laugh on me, you old scamp!
Hi! Hold on, there! Who said you could walk away? Come back here, and
have it out! I dare you!"
The elk, as if suspecting that all was not well, had indeed started to
move off. But when Bluff made a great feint of coming down, he succeeded
in exciting the animal's anger again, and caution was flung to the
winds.
Bluff watched for his chance, and when it came he made sure work of it
by sending a bullet through the heart of the fighting elk.
Even then he waited a little while.
"Going to try getting up again? This time I'm ready for you, old
fellow!" he said to the fallen beast; but presently it became patent,
even to his inexperienced eyes, that the elk had breathed its last.
"Now, if Will were only here," Bluff remarked enviously, as he put one
foot on his prize and tried to look very unconcerned, as if knocking
down such big game might be a matter of almost daily occurrence with
him.
Not knowing how to go about cutting the elk up, Bluff headed back toward
the camp. Before leaving the spot he thought to bleed the quarry, after
a fashion, for he understood that such a thing was always done to make
the meat taste better.
Half an hour later he showed up in the camp. It was next to impossible
to get lost in that valley, which might account for Bluff finding his
way back with comparative ease.
Jerry was lounging alongside one of the tents, engaged in getting his
fishing tackle in order, for a try in the pool below the falls.
"Shall we send the horses out to tote it in?" he asked, after the usual
fashion of greeting greenhorns when they come back from a hunt
apparently unattended by success.
"Did you hear me shoot?" asked Bluff carelessly.
"Why, yes, twice; and some time apart. What was it--a crow or a
jack-rabbit?"
Bluff only smiled as Mr. Mabie came out of the tent and glanced at him.
"What would you say that was, sir?" he asked, thrusting something in
front of the old stockman.
Starting back, Mr. Mabie looked hastily at the hairy object.
"An elk's tail, as sure as you live!" he remarked, his face relaxing in
a smile.
"What's that?" roared Jerry, springing to his feet.
"Oh, you needn't get excited about it. Do you see the dull spots on my
knife? Well, I bled my game, all right, just as I wanted to do with that
bully good blade that was left behind; and if Reddy will only go back
with me, we can bring the old fellow in on a horse," said Bluff coolly.
"Count me in on that!" exclaimed Will, rushing out of his impromptu
dark-room, and waving the bottle in which he was making a solution of
hypo.
"I think I'll go along, too," remarked Frank, appearing from some other
place.
When the party started forth presently, there were six of them with the
horse--the chums, Reddy, and Mr. Mabie himself.
"I am beginning to believe you boys will corral everything in sight if
you keep on the way you've started. A grizzly, a sheep, and now an elk;
and only thirty hours with me! H'm! Perhaps I may not be able to show
you as much about big-game hunting as I expected," said the stockman,
who seemed vastly amused at the energy shown by his young guests at the
ranch.
"Oh, we can pull a trigger, all right, sir, but there are a thousand
things we want to know about these natives that books never teach. I'm
like a sponge, and can keep on soaking up information all the time,"
laughed Frank.
Incautiously, Bluff let fall certain words that gave Jerry a clue as to
the true situation.
"A tree! Shot him downward from a tree, eh? Now, since you've so frankly
confessed that much, why not tell the whole blooming story, Bluff?" he
cried.
"There isn't much to it. I saw the elk. Then I shot him, and he fell
over. After that the elk saw me. He chased me about a tree. I remembered
how fast Jerry said he ran around when those wild dogs were after him,
and I wanted to go him just one better. Then I found a chance to climb
when the wounded elk stumbled. After that I made a rope out of my
handkerchief and fished with a loop until I caught the barrel of my gun.
That's all."
"A whole history in a nutshell. But we must be getting near the place,
according to what you said at the start. There are the three oaks
growing in a clump. Now where's your dead elk?"
As Frank spoke he turned to Bluff. That individual was staring around in
evident bewilderment.
"It was sure here I met him. There's the little glade, and this big tree
is the one I climbed up into. I saw him lying there. I _know_ he was
dead when I bled him. But I must be blind, for the elk certainly is not
here now. Oh! Did he come to life again, and run away?" said poor Bluff,
in despair, looking at the tail, which he had thrust into his belt.