"We're in fine shootin' range, and we'll be gettin' all we wants of un," said Skipper Zeb. "Go at un now!"
Charley was so excited that he could hardly hold his rifle, but he aimed and fired. Skipper Zeb and Toby fired at the same time, and the three continued to shoot into the herd until fourteen of the fine antlered beasts lay stretched upon the snow.
"That's enough of un!" directed Skipper Zeb. "'Twill be all we wants, and there'll be enough for Long Tom Ham, too. We'll knock down no more than we can use handy."
With the report of the rifles the animals had begun to move restlessly about. Some of the bucks were snorting, but because the wind was blowing down from the herd toward the hunters, no smell of their enemies reached the caribou. The sound of shooting and even the view of the hunter will often fail to startle a herd, unless they get the smell. But something had happened to some of their number, and the sentinels were on the alert.
Skipper Zeb, with Toby and Charley, stepped out from cover and approached their victims. Suddenly panic seized the herd. It is probable that in their sudden terror the animals did not see or realize that these were the enemies that had attacked them, but with one accord they started forward. Slowly at first the great herd moved, and then, in an instant, were in a wild stampede.
The three hunters stood directly in the pathway of the fear-blinded animals. On they came, the thousands of hoofs beating upon the frozen snow with an ominous roar like that of a great wind, and smashing everything before them.
"Run! Run! They'll trample us down!" yelled Skipper Zeb.
They turned and ran, but they could not run with half the speed of deer.