The Irishman hastily debated with himself upon the best plan to pursue to escape the serious peril that threatened him, for he was sure the savages would follow up their shot.
"The best thing I can do is to lave," he concluded. "There is strong raison for belaving that I've given some one slight offinse by walking into their house without ringing the bell."
He stooped over and lifted his game. He found its weight somewhat less than he had suspected.
"I have no objiction to your going wid me. If I has to have the same dispute about ivery deer I tips over, I may as well hang on to the fust one."
Slinging it over his shoulder, he began his return with the carcass. It proved beneficial to him in a way that he had little suspected. Not wishing to go any further down the gorge, where there was reason to fear a collision with the savages, he clambered still higher, taking great care to shield himself from observation from below.
This made his labor excessive, and he was often obliged to pause and rest himself. But at length he reached what might be termed the brow of the hill, and began making his way along the edge of a smaller ravine, that led toward the river. While thus engaged, the body of the deer struck a projecting rock, and before Tim could save himself he rolled over and over for a distance of twenty odd feet, coming down plump upon the deer without injuring himself in the least.
"I'm obliged to yez," he said, as he rose and stared around with a bewildered air. "That was kind in yez, and I'll not forget the favor."
Again raising his carcass to his shoulder, he resumed his journey toward the river. But as he progressed the weight upon his shoulder seemed to grow heavier, and he was obliged to pause and rest himself quite often. On these occasions he looked around him half-expecting to see the three savages spring out of the bushes.
If such a thing should occur, Tim had already decided upon his mode of procedure. He intended to sink to the ground at once, with the body of the deer as a sheltering breastwork, and make as gallant fight as possible. His success in bringing down his game, when it was fully fifty yards distant, gave him quite a flattering estimate of his prowess.
The Indians, as the Irishman had anticipated, hastened up the gorge to secure the daring hunter, who had so audaciously exposed himself to their anger. It required some time for them to find the exact spot where the deer had fallen, and when they did so, they followed him readily by the blood which had trickled from its drooping head, which as Tim bore his prize away he little dreamed would betray the course he took.