Striking on his belly, several paces beyond, the beast rolled over and over, clawing, snapping, snarling, and beating the air, with lightning-like blows. The leaves and dust flew in all directions, and the foam which he spat from his jaws was flecked with blood.
He continued rolling and struggling until he was a rod distant, and then suddenly stopped, stone dead.
In the excitement and swirl of the moment both Fred and Terry were conscious that their guns were not the only ones that were fired. At the instant the brute was in the act of rising from the ground a second time for his leap, the sharp report of another rifle was heard. The peril was so imminent that the lads could give no attention just then to any thing but the immediate business in hand; but now, seeing their fearful foe was dead, they knew that it was the third bullet that had done it, and they glanced around to see who their friend was.
No one was in sight, and they advanced to the carcass, which they were somewhat timid about touching, even though convinced that it was beyond the power of doing any more harm. They saw that both of their bullets had struck the skull, though not at the precise points at which they aimed. One had passed near the right eye of the nondescript, and must have inflicted serious injury, but its toughness would have enabled it to keep up the fight, and to have slain both of the boys before they could have reloaded and fired a second time.
A little search showed where the fatal wound had been given. Just in front of the fore leg the lead had entered and gone through the heart. No animal, so far as known, amounts to any thing after his heart has been torn in twain, though he may live and move for a time.
"I tell you, Terry, that I don't believe there is another beast in the country that, after receiving two bullets in the head, like that, could make such a fight."
"I begs to corrict ye," said the other; "it was three shots, for do ye not mind that I bored a hole through him when we first made his acquaintance?"
"So you claimed, but you haven't explained how it was that such a shot could be made without leaving any wound?"
"It may have healed up since then," suggested the Irish lad, who knew as well as his companion that the first bullet did not touch the beast.
"I hadn't thought of that," meekly observed Fred; "but there is one thing certain, that if that last shot hadn't been fired, it would have been the last of us: where could it have come from?" he asked, looking around and finding the answer to his question in the sight of Deerfoot the Shawanoe, who came from behind a clump of bushes on the other side of the small stream.