“The foaming animal dashed away to hunt him; and Ben, creeping stealthily around the bowlder, found its accessible side, and scrambled to the summit as the caribou came bounding to its base.
“If the bowlder had been a very few feet lower, the adventure might have had a very different issue. But as it was, the height proved sufficient. Ben surveyed those spear-sharp prongs from his point of vantage, just three feet beyond reach of their vicious thrusts, and thought proudly how fine they would look mounted in the cabin of the Garnet.
“He was in no great hurry to end the performance, and he did not like to fire while the caribou was so close to the muzzle of the gun. But presently the animal paused and looked around for Mike.
“He turned, in fact, as if to go and hunt the little Irishman again, and Ben’s heart smote him for having even for a moment forgotten the peril in which his comrade yet remained. He took careful aim at a point close behind the caribou’s shoulder. At the report the animal sprang straight into the air, and fell back stone dead.
“Very triumphant, quite pardonably so, in fact, were Ben and Mike as they returned to the Codroy settlement with their spoils. They discreetly refrained from detailing at Codroy all the particulars of the hunt. But if the tourist, exploring the coasts of Newfoundland in the steamer Garnet, chances to remark upon the immense pair of caribou antlers which hang over the cabin door, he will hear the whole story from Ben Christie, who is endowed with an excellent sense of humor.”
When Ranolf ended he received unusual applause. Then I stepped, so to speak, into the breach. “I cannot hope,” said I, “to win the ears of this worshipful company with any such gentle humor as Ranolf has just achieved. But I have a good rousing adventure to tell you, with lots of blood though little thunder. The scene of it is not far from Newfoundland. Let this fact speak in its favor!”
“Fire away, Old Man!” said Queerman.
“I take for my narrative the simple title of—
‘LABRADOR WOLVES.’
said I.