All this happened simultaneously? Certainly. Just as George struck his fruitless blow, Steve began to carve out the ornament for his pencil.
Reader, do not look upon this scene as savoring of levity. This incident is true in every particular, a party of would-be hunters having experimented with little cartridge-like tubes just as our heroes did here. The story as told by them is the same in substance with this, though, of course, we have touched it up a little here and there.
Having thus kept the reader in suspense long enough, it is now in order to return to Stephen. He had barely begun to “dig out the stuff,” as he phrased it, when a loud report startled the eight hunters. Steve’s tube had exploded with more violence than any fire-cracker he ever handled.
Appalled, his penknife fell unheeded, and he gazed at the others with a silly, bewildered, and horrified expression of countenance, that at any other time would have provoked a roar of laughter.
George’s second blow was never struck, but springing to his feet, he fixed his eyes on Will with a look of extreme horror.
Will’s actions, in fact, attracted the attention of all. As soon as the tube exploded he sprang high into the air, and then fell to bounding about like a harlequin or a piece of black rubber, shouting frantically: “Oh, my head’s off! my head’s off! my head’s off!”
His head was certainly not off, though blood was streaming down his cheeks.
“Oh, Will,” groaned Steve in agony, “what is the matter? Oh, Will, speak! Have I killed you?”
“My head’s off! My head’s off!” was Will’s only answer.