The words were scarcely spoken when the hog made a savage lunge at Eugene, who happened to be nearest him, and the rope, no longer strong enough to sustain his weight, parted with a loud snap. Eugene’s face grew as pale as death. He stood for an instant as if paralyzed, and then turned and took to his heels, but before he had made a half dozen steps a root caught his foot, and he fell heavily to the ground.
A cry of horror burst from all who witnessed the peril of the unlucky young hunter, and Bab stood motionless, while Walter sat in his saddle looking fixedly at his brother without possessing the power to move hand or foot. There was but one thing he could do, and that was to encourage the hounds to catch the hog. That might delay him until Eugene could reach his horse, and then he would be safe. As soon as he had recovered the use of his tongue he set up a shout, and the dogs being well trained and accustomed to obedience, seized the hog and pulled him to the ground.
“Now, then, run in and catch him—all of us,” cried Walter, throwing himself from his saddle. “Be in a hurry, and if you once get a good hold of him, hang on with all the strength you’ve got.”
But before Bab or any of the negroes had time to move, the hog scrambled to his feet, and shaking off the dogs as easily as a giant would shake off so many school-boys, again started after Eugene. So quickly had all this been done that his intended victim had not yet arisen from the ground, and before he could think twice the hog charged upon him like a runaway locomotive. O! if Rex had only been there, or if Walter had had his trusty double-barrel in his hands!
The only weapon he could find was a short club which happened to be lying near him on the ground, which, even had he been within striking distance of the hog, would no more have checked him in his headlong rush than a straw would stem the current of Niagara; still he caught it up and sprang forward, determined to save his brother or share in his peril, when, just in the nick of time—not one single instant too soon—help arrived, and from a source from which he least expected it. He heard a yell of delight from Bab, a gray streak flashed before his eyes, and just as Eugene put up his arm to ward off the blow from those terrible tusks, which were now almost within an inch of his face, the hog was jerked backward and thrown struggling on the ground. It was out of his power to hurt anybody then, for Rex the infallible had him.
“Hurrah!” shouted Eugene, jumping to his feet, “he’s our hog now. Shake him up a little, old fellow, to pay him for the scare he gave me.”
Rex did shake him up, not only a little but a great deal; and in five minutes more the hog was secured, his feet having been fastened together so that he could not get up, and his mouth tied with ropes to prevent him from using his teeth. But even then Walter could not help trembling. What would have become of his brother if Rex had been one minute later? His timely arrival had saved Eugene from death, or at least from horrible mutilation, and do you wonder that he threw his arms around that greyhound’s neck and actually hugged him? Eugene did not seem to mind it in the least. With him the danger being out of sight, was out of mind. The fight was over; he had come out of it without serious injury; and if there had been another wild hog about he would have been the first to start after it.
“I am all right, Walter, don’t look so sober,” said he, rolling up his sleeve to examine his arm, which had been pretty severely bruised by his fall. “Now, then, where are Perk and Featherweight?”
“I haven’t seen Featherweight,” replied Walter, “but I left Perk and Rex attending to the mate of this hog. We’ll go and meet him. Bring up the cart, Cuff, and take care of the game.”
The three hunters mounted their horses and rode back to find Perk. As they were considerably wearied by their recent exertions, they allowed their horses to walk leisurely along, and they were probably a quarter of an hour in reaching the spot where Walter had first discovered Rex and his huge antagonist. They saw no signs of Perk, and neither did they hear anything of him; and they concluded that he had tied his hog and sat down to wait for them. They soon learned, however, that their friend was not taking matters quite so easily as they had imagined, and that there were things in the world against which even Perk, with all his strength, activity and courage could not prevail; for, when they reached the clearest space in the thicket of briers and cane where Walter had left him, they saw a sight that filled them with amazement and alarm. It was nothing less than a fight between Perk and the hog. The young hunter was holding his antagonist by both hind feet, and the hog was kicking and struggling and trying hard to get at Perk to strike him. The latter’s face was white with terror, the perspiration was streaming from his forehead, and the boys saw that it was with the greatest difficulty that he could retain his hold. He looked up when he heard them approaching, but was too exhausted to speak.