I did not have to wait long. With a toss of his shaggy head the old fellow took deliberate aim, and came towards me. I waited until he got under full headway, and then stepped behind a tree that my body had screened. The crash was terrible. The ram rebounded several paces, and rolled over and over, kicking violently, and when he did struggle to his feet he winked his eyes rapidly, as though afflicted with a headache of a violent nature. For a few minutes we stood looking at each other in silence, and then the old patriarch wagged his tail slowly, and moved towards his wives, with rather a crestfallen appearance.
CHAPTER LXVII.
THE HUNT FOR THE BURIED TREASURE.
"How do you feel?" I asked of my companion, who was sitting where he had fallen the second time.
"Feel," he replied, placing his hand upon that portion of his body supposed to be the sorest, "why I could readily imagine that I had ridden a hard trotting horse all day."
"Why didn't you spring aside?" I asked; "you saw the animal measuring the distance, and could have got out of the way."
"Can a man dodge a streak of lightning or a thunder bolt? If he could, there would he some use attempting to get beyond the reach of that crooked horn devil when he starts on a butting expedition. I believe no bones are broken, for which, I suppose, I must feel thankful."
My friend arose, shook himself, and then declared that he felt no serious inconvenience from his bruises; and while I started a fire he undertook to skin the sheep, and get a portion of his meat ready for dinner.
It was near four o'clock before we got ready to commence our explorations of the island where we supposed the treasure to be concealed. I suggested carrying the shovel, but Mr. Brown, with a degree of superstition that I was not prepared to give him credit for, would not listen to the idea for a moment, on the pretence that if we made any movement for the treasure, except during the night time, we should be defeated in our purpose.