And then Frank did what might have been considered a foolish thing. Carried away by the enthusiasm engendered by seeing his plan to stampede the herd work out successfully, he continued to bound along behind, at first able to whip the bunched-up stragglers, but soon falling hopelessly behind as the herd picked up speed and swept forward like the wind.
Straight toward the clump of trees sheltering Frank’s friends dashed the reindeer. And an exultant throb filled his breast. For the hidden enemy lay in the long grass between the herd and the trees, and inevitably, therefore, the stampeding animals would drive them out.
Regardless of the risk to himself, Frank continued on his way, running as fast as the nature of the ground permitted. The herd beat the long grass flat in its advance, as flat as if a great board had been pressed down on all, and the going was easier than he had looked for.
Suddenly a shot rang out, then another, and a little wisp of smoke showed the young fellow the discharge came from the trees. His own friends were shooting. At what? Again an exultant thrill swept over him. He felt certain his friends were firing at the enemy, and that the stampeding herd was driving the latter ahead of it, although because of the presence of the animals between himself and the enemy he could not see whether such was the case.
That Frank’s surmise was correct, however, was soon borne out. For the first shots fired from the trees were succeeded by a rapid rattle that told him everybody was in action.
Then followed a confused medley of shots interspersed with shouts and cries, and Frank, pausing a moment to peer ahead and listen came to the conclusion that the enemy was desperately shooting at the reindeer in an effort to turn the herd aside. If that was the case, however, their efforts were unsuccessful, for the animals filled with the unreasoning spirit of panic did not swerve from their course.
“By golly,” Frank exclaimed aloud, “I believe I can reach camp all right.”
And once more he began to run forward. For it seemed to him that the herd, sweeping the enemy before it, would leave the ground free for him to reach the clump of trees and rejoin his friends.
On swept the herd, and on ran Frank in the beaten down grass behind it. His eyes were strained towards the trees. He began to wave and shout, as he came closer and made out the outline of Mr. Hampton’s tent. He paid no attention to his surroundings.
Then a form rose up from the long grass beside the swathe beaten down by the reindeer, there was a shot, and Frank fell forward on his face, a buzzing in his ears, and lost consciousness.