As they approached the wretched victim of wolfish hunger and ferocity attempted to get on his legs again; but seemed too weak to do more than lift himself halfway, when he once more fell back.
“Better we put him out of his misery, Perk,” Jack, suggested, knowing full well that the animal was doomed, no matter what they did; for if left to himself the wolf pack—what was left of it at any rate—was bound to return, and finish their slaughter.
“You do it, brother,” begged Perk, “somehow I don’t seem able to jest up an’ knock him on the head. Your rifle’s a heap better for that job.”
“It will be a mercy, since he’s done for, no matter how we look at it,” the other went on to say; “so, game law or not, I’ve just got to do it.”
With the speedy crack of his thirty-thirty sporting rifle the caribou gave one expiring kick, and then lay there limp and lifeless.
Jack surveyed his victim, and shook his head as though he took no pleasure whatever in the act of mercy.
“Since necessity forced us into this game, Perk, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have your caribou steak for breakfast; though I’ve got an idea it may give your grinders some job, from toughness. Go to it, brother; if you pronounce it eatable I may try a small portion myself, though I’m not building up any high hopes as to enjoying it.”
Since it was daylight, and they were all aroused, they concluded there was no sense of “making two bites of a cherry.” Accordingly Perk coaxed Red to build up a good cooking-fire, while he proceeded to cut some slices from the intact flank of the fallen stag.
At any rate it had an appetizing flavor while cooking, that caused Red to look expectant. Jack took a small portion on his pannikin, and started to masticate it in sections; but just the same he failed to clear off his plate, which would indicate that he hardly approved of that kind of venison.
From the fact that Perk did not see fit to select any more of the meat to carry along when they pulled out, one of three things must have affected him—either he did not anticipate having another chance to make use of a cooking fire in the near future; felt a bit worried as to what would happen if a game-warden, roving far afield, should happen along while he put in time at his culinary labors; or else even he had found the venison too tough for mastication—possibly a bit of all three reasons influenced him in abandoning the remainder of the carcass to those hungry brutes, undoubtedly still hovering in ambush not far away.