Then he must have discovered him, or caught his wind, for he stopped suddenly, and, wheeling like a flash, went back across the plateau with short, high bounds, at the same time uttering notes of warning that brought the battle to a close at once.
His companions gathered about him in a frightened group; and Oscar, knowing that in a moment more they would be off like the wind, drew his rifle quickly to his face and pulled the trigger.
The buck which had discovered his presence paid for his vigilance with his life. He fell dead in his tracks, and the others fled with every demonstration of terror.
In less time than it takes to write it, Oscar threw out the empty shell, pushed in a fresh cartridge which he had held in his hand, and, just as the big-horns were about to plunge headlong into the gorge, he made a hasty snap-shot, and had the satisfaction of seeing another of their number fall to his knees; and, after struggling a moment to regain his feet, roll over on his side.
Such luck as this was quite unexpected, and it set Oscar almost wild with excitement.
Leaping upon the plateau, he ran forward to examine the first buck he had brought down, at the same time sending up the hunter’s cry with all the power of his lungs.
“Who-whoop!” he shouted.
“Who-whoop!” came the answer almost immediately.
And, to Oscar’s delight, it sounded close to the foot of the bluff.
This proved that Big Thompson had struck the trail of the big-horns in the valley, and that he was following it up.