My nerves were strung with anger—a feeling of intense indignation was burning in my breast, that rendered me as firm as steel. I was cool from very passion—at the thought of being thus hunted like a wolf!
I waited until the muzzle of the hound almost met that of the pistol, and then I fired. The dog tumbled from the log.
I saw the other close upon his heels. I aimed through the smoke, and again pulled trigger.
The good weapon did not fail me. Again the report was followed by a plunge.
The hounds were no longer upon the log. They had fallen right and left into the black water below!
Chapter Seventy Three.
The Man-Hunter.
The hounds had fallen into the water—one dead, the other badly wounded. The latter could not have escaped, as one of his legs had been struck by the bullet, and his efforts to swim were but the throes of desperation. In a few minutes he must have gone to the bottom; but it was not his fate to die by drowning. It was predestined that his howling should be brought to a termination in a far different manner.