Had he struck the mark?
Another instant would tell.
The creature would either roll over wounded, or would spring upon him.
He jammed back the trigger of his rifle. The tremor that had swept over him at first now left his hand. His arm was perfectly steady, his blood swinging in quick throbs through his body. He fired a third time.
There was a heavy thud, the rolling of a black mass on the ground, a gasp, a growl! Then all was quiet.
Still Donald dared not take any chances. He poured another round of shot into his victim. It did not move.
Then cautiously he crept outside, his rifle tight in his grasp.
There on the ground a shaggy object lay motionless.
He went nearer.
Then he gave a shout of astonishment.