Then he forced his body toward the base of the leaning tree, until the narrowing space permitted him to go no further, and he was so compressed that he could hardly breathe.
THE BUCK LEAPED LIGHTLY OVER THE PROSTRATE TRUNK
Meanwhile he did not forget to use his lungs.
“Tom! Jim! hurry up or I’m lost! Where are you? Come, quick, I tell you! the buck is killing me!”
The frantic appeal reached the ears it was intended for, and the two other Piketon Rangers dashed toward the spot, though not without misgiving, for the wild cries of their imperiled comrade warned them of the likelihood of running into danger themselves, and neither was ready to go to that extent to save their leader.
Tom Wagstaff was the first to reach the spot, and he paused for a moment, bewildered by the scene.
He saw the buck bounding back and forth over the tree, rising on his hind legs and bringing down his front hoofs with vicious force, occasionally lowering his antlers as he endeavored to force the fugitive out of his refuge.
At the first Tom could not locate Bob, whom he expected to see standing on his feet, braced against a tree and swinging his clubbed gun with all the power at his command.
The frantic shouts, however, enabled him to discover his friend, and he called back: