But the young elk had evidently received a fatal wound, for it ran only a dozen yards, when it began to stagger.
Just then, as Roger, having fitted his second arrow, was in the act of taking a swift aim, so as to be ready to make assurance doubly certain, to his astonishment he heard a peculiar twang that sounded like the snap of a bowstring.
And, as he arose to his feet to start forward after the wounded animal, just falling to the ground, he believed that he saw a second arrow sticking from its side.
The first instinct of the hunter is to make sure of his quarry; and so Roger hastened to run forward. He kept a wary eye on the other elk, however, to see that the possessor of those tremendous antlers did not turn back, with the idea of giving battle to the strange enemy on two legs, so different from the four-footed wolves and panthers which he had known in the past.
But somehow this did not come to pass. Either the buck failed to grasp the full nature of the disaster that had befallen his little family; or else, catching a whiff of human foes about that time, fear had dominated valor. At any rate he sped out of sight, with the frightened doe ahead of him—at least the buck was gallant enough to hang back, and protect the rear.
Roger went as fast as he could toward the fallen calf, pleased to know that he had been so successful in his little hunt, and that they would have fresh meat for some time to come.
As he ran he seemed to understand, as though through instinct, that there was some one else pushing ahead on one side of him; but, being in such desperate haste to plant a foot on the fallen game first, he could not even take the time to look.
He heard a distant whoop from Dick, which, however, fell on deaf ears if it was intended as a warning. Roger was an obstinate boy, and, having taken a notion to accomplish a certain thing, he could not be easily discouraged or influenced to give up his design.
There the young elk lay, and in plain sight, so that, rushing up, Roger had no difficulty in placing his right foot on the still quivering body, by that act making it known to whoever disputed his claim that he intended to stand by his rights.
It happened that the animal had fallen so that its wounded side lay uppermost, and one of the first things the young hunter noticed was the fact that there were two arrows deeply imbedded there; his own well-known eagle-feathered shaft, and one that had the token of the gray goose fastened to its end in a peculiar circling manner, calculated to influence its steadiness of flight.