He dropped on one knee, and threw the Marlin up to his shoulder with a resolute air. Thad could hardly be said to be an expert shot, for his opportunities to go out hunting had never been very numerous; still, he possessed nerve, and could aim straight, which, after all, were qualities standing him in better stead just then than experience.
The beast was coming all right, there could be no doubt about that; and his appearance, with that hair bristling along above his shoulders, was anything but pacifying.
To the kneeling lad the rush of a lion in the African wilds could not have seemed more fierce.
He waited just three seconds, until Maurice, fearing that his chum might be almost paralyzed with fright, gave a shriek to startle him into action.
But Thad had done the wise thing after all; he wanted the dog to get close enough to warrant the bird-shot to possess all the deadly attributes of a bullet.
Of course there was more danger of his missing entirely; but Thad's mind was fully made up that he just could not and would not do any thing of the sort.
Then his finger pressed first one trigger, and almost simultaneously the other, of the double-barrel.
The deafening report was accompanied by what seemed to be a piercing yelp or two, after which there was silence.
Maurice had jumped down out of his tree as soon as the shots told that there was no further danger of his being hit by any stray leaden pellet; and seizing upon the handy ax he bounced across the glade toward the scene of hostilities.
"Thad!" he shouted eagerly, as he ran, waving the ax in the air, and ready to resume the battle, if so be it seemed necessary.