The serow seemed now to be quite done up, and it appeared as if his pursuers might at any moment have pulled him down. But this they evidently did not wish to do. They wanted to drive him a little farther.
The creature, however, was not going to accommodate them. He had run enough. A very large tree stood in his way. Its trunk was many feet in diameter, and great broad buttresses stood out from its flanks, enclosing angular spaces between them, any of which would have made a stall for a horse. It was just the sort of place which the serow was looking out for; and making a sharp rush for the tree, he entered one of these divisions, and wheeling around, buttocks to the stump, stood firmly to bay.
This sudden manoeuvre evidently disconcerted his fierce pursuers. There were many of them that knew the serow well, and trembled at the sight of his horns when brought too close to them. They knew his tactics too, and were well aware that once in a position, like that he had now taken up, he became a dangerous customer to deal with.
Knowing this, most of the old dogs held back. But there were several young ones in the pack, rash, hot-blooded fellows, who, vain of their prowess, were ashamed to hang their tails at this crisis; and these, without more ado, rushed in upon the antelope. Then ensued a scene that caused Ossaroo to clap his hands and shake his sides with laughter. A desperate struggle was carried on. Right and left pitched the wild dogs, some yelping, some skulking back, crippled and limping; while one or two soon lay stretched out dead; transfixed as they had been by the pointed horns of the antelope. Ossaroo enjoyed this scene, for the shikarree had a great dislike to these wild dogs, as they had often interfered with his stalking.
How the battle would have ended, or whether the bold buck would have beaten off his numerous enemies will never be known; for while the contest was raging, the great boar-hound, Fritz, contrived somehow or other to slip his fastening, and the next moment he was seen rushing like a streak of fire towards the mêlée. The wild dogs were as much terrified by his sudden appearance in their midst as the quarry itself could have been, and, without staying to examine the interloper, one and all of them took to their heels, and soon disappeared behind the trees.
Fritz had never seen a serow before, but taking it for granted it was fair game, he sprang at the creature on sight. Better for Fritz had it been a Saxon boar, for it cost him several sharp rips, and a long struggle before he became master of the field; and it is doubtful whether he would not have suffered still worse, had not a pea of lead from the rifle of his master aided in bringing the strife to an end.
The game, but for its hide, was hardly worth faking home; as the flesh of the serow is very coarse, and poor eating. For all that, the animal is eagerly hunted by the natives of the Himalayas; partly because it is not difficult to come up with, and partly that these poor people are not very epicurean in their appetites.