CHAPTER IV.
THE DEMON AT THE CAMP-FIRE.
Teddy gave up; he believed it was all over with him. Lying flat on his face, he committed himself to heaven, and waited for the beast to devour him.
Ugh! what a galvanic shudder shook him, as he heard its smothered bark repeated, and felt its hideous nose glide along his body! He felt it thrust beneath his breast, and then the beast gave a lunge, like a hog when rooting, as if seeking to turn him over on his back.
“No; be the powers, you don’t,” muttered Teddy. “I’m not the chap that’s goin’ to turn over and see mesilf ate up.”
So, instead of turning, he remained flat upon his face, sliding a few inches over the ground.
With a low growl of rage the monster repeated the attempt, and his victim resisted him as before.
Teddy O’Doherty was brave, almost to fearlessness, but this was too much even for him; and, at that point, he swooned away into unconsciousness.
He probably remained in that condition but a short time. When his senses came back to him, he was lying on his back, with his face upturned to the moon. For a few moments, he was naturally enough bewildered, and he lay motionless until it all came back to him. Then he half whispered.
“I’m dead and ate up! how qu’ar it saams! I never knew it felt this way. Yis, Teddy, you’re ate up!”