Beyond a doubt the bearcoot was in a bad fix; and, although it was soon relieved from its tether of poshm, it was only to find itself more securely tied by a stronger string taken out of the pocket of Ossaroo.
The other bearcoot having followed close after, seemed determined upon rescuing its mate out of the hands of its captors; and uttering loud screams, it flew, first at one, then at another of them—with its long pointed talons menacing each of them in turn.
As all of them had weapons in their hands, they succeeded in keeping the angry bird at bay, but it might not have fared so well with Fritz—who in turn became the object of its furious attack, and who had no weapon but his teeth.
These would scarce have been sufficient protection against the talons of an eagle; and Fritz would very likely have lost one of his eyes, or perhaps both of them, had it not been for an arrow springing from the bow of the shikaree; which, transfixing the great bird right through the gizzard, brought it down with a “flop” upon the surface of the earth.
It was not killed outright by the arrow; and the dog, on seeing it bite the dust, would fain have “jumped” it. But perceiving the strong curving beak and the sharp talons extended towards him, Fritz was easily persuaded to remain at a prudent distance, and leave the shikaree to make a finish of the bearcoot with his long boar-spear.
Chapter Thirty Six.
A hope built upon the bearcoot.
In this unexpected supply of food—which might be said almost literally to have descended from heaven—Karl could not help recognising the hand of Providence, and pointing it out to his companions. Even the less reflecting mind of Caspar, and the half-heathen heart of the Hindoo, were impressed with a belief that some other agency than mere chance had befriended them; and they were only too willing to join with Karl in a prayerful expression of their gratitude to that Being who, although unseen, was with them even in that lone valley.