There was the baleful glint of Hell in the monster eyes
The head swung back. The hooves pawed at the snow. With a snort, the creature sprang into the air. Robinson ducked quickly to one side, but there was no reason for him to flee. The phantom buck, for he was sure the animal was a phantom, moved past him with incredible speed and was gone in the forest. He was aware of a terrific burst of speed—of a perfectly proportioned body, and that was all.
With a burst of speed, the magnificent buck rushed past him
For a long time, Robinson stood there by the stump. All the education that goes into a man, to bring him culture, was reviewing itself in his mind. All the hunter instinct drained out of him. There was only humbleness left, and respect for wild things.
He knew he would find no tracks, even though he forced himself to look for them. Six inches of untouched snow covered the spot where the phantom had stood.
Robinson shrugged and started back along the lengthy, circular trail to his car.