“Let go of the buck, Louis, and I will finish him with my hunting-knife.”
“No! No!” replied the woodsman. “I have a good hold on him now, and I refuse to let go until either he or I lose our lives.”
He continued to strike heavy blows upon the buck’s side, as Meshack seized the animal by the ear. Now determined to end the affair, he quickly dispatched him with his hunting-knife, and, as he dropped to the snow, the prostrate trapper drew himself to his feet with a loud shout of satisfaction and delight.
“Meshack,” said he, “you have saved my life! If you had not come, I do not believe that I would have whipped this fellow, for he was the toughest customer that I ever tackled in my entire woodland experience.”
Van Sickle was so upset by the beating which the buck had given him that he would never hunt any more unless Browning went in advance, and if a bush rattled, would jump back in deadly fear that another buck was coming after him. He was severely injured, having many black and blue lumps upon his head, and one very black eye. Two or three days later, he exhibited a long war-club, which he had made to defend himself with, as well as to attack the fighting bucks. It was eight feet in length, with a large knot upon the upper end, and was a deadly means of defense. He would never venture to the woods again unless Meshack went along, and, as the trapper would not go with him, he had no opportunity of trying his murderous instrument.
Shortly after this strange and novel battle in the woods, Meshack was asked by his wife to bring home some young turkeys for supper. Telling her that he could soon do this, he called his dog, Watch, and was off into the woodland. His faithful hound had been lame for more than a month from the bite of the last bear which he had tackled, and was still very stiff. He frisked about his master in spite of this, and seemed to be all ready for anything that might turn up.
It was not long before the trapper saw three or four old turkeys with perhaps thirty or forty young ones. He sent Watch after them, in order to drive them towards him, but they flew into some low, white oak trees. When Meshack walked fast, as if he were going past them, they would sit still as they could for him to pass on. After taking twelve or fifteen steps the trapper would shoot off their heads. He thus kept on, until he had shot off the tops of nine young turkeys. This was sufficient for the larder, and whistling to his dog, he turned about for home.
Watch, however, seemed to be very much excited, and kept whining and sniffing, as if some species of game were near.
“What is it, my boy?” asked his master.
For answer the dog bounded away towards a large mass of rocks. Here he began to bark vociferously, so that the trapper felt sure that a bear was concealed near by.