Frank, the Young Naturalist Part 19

The dogs now all broke out into a continuous barking, and Archie exclaimed, in an excited voice,

"Shoot him! shoot him!"

"He is too far off," answered Frank. "You must remember that our guns are loaded with small shot. Give way lively!"

The boys very soon discovered that they had no easy task before them.

The light skiff, propelled by Archie's powerful strokes, danced rapidly over the little waves; but the buck was a fast swimmer and made headway through the water astonishingly.

"Don't we gain on him any?" inquired Archie, panting hard from his exertions.

"Yes, a very little," answered Frank. "But he swims like a streak."

At length they reached the middle of the lake, and Frank, to his delight, discovered that they were gaining rapidly. Archie redoubled his efforts, and a few more strokes brought them close alongside of the buck, which snorted aloud in his terror, and leaped half-way out of the water, then settled down n.o.bly to his work.

Had Frank been an experienced deer-hunter, he would have been very careful not to approach the game in that manner; for a deer, when he finds himself unable to escape, will fight most desperately, and his sharp antlers and hoofs, which will cut like a knife, are weapons not to be despised. But Frank, in his excitement, did not step to think of this, and, letting go the tiller, he seized his gun, and fired both barrels in quick succession. But the shot was not fatal; and the buck, maddened with pain, leaped almost entirely out of the water.

Frank now saw their danger, and, seizing the oars, attempted to turn the boat out of the reach of the wounded animal; but it was too late, for the buck, in his struggles, placed his fore-feet in the bow of the skiff, and overturned it in an instant, and boys, dogs, ducks, and all, were emptied into the cold waters of the lake. When they rose to the surface, they found the skiff right side up, and dancing over the waves they had made, and the ducks and oars were floating in the water around them.

Their first thought was to discover what had become of the buck; he and Brave were engaged in a most desperate fight, in which the dog was evidently getting the better of it. The hounds, probably not relishing their ducking, were making for the nearest sh.o.r.e, as if their lives depended upon the issue.

Frank swam up to the skiff, and took hold of it, to keep himself afloat; but Archie picked up an oar, and struck out toward the buck, exclaiming,

"I guess I'd better take a hand in this fight."

"No, no," said Frank, quickly, "you had better keep away from him; he has too much strength left. He would beat you down under the water in less than a minute. Brave can manage him alone."

The next moment Frank happened to think of his gun. Where was it? He drew himself up and looked into the canoe. It was not there; it was at the bottom of the lake.

"Archie," he exclaimed, "we've lost our guns."

"Just my luck," answered his cousin, bitterly. "Now, I'll have revenge for that."

And, swimming around behind the buck, out of reach of his dangerous hoofs, he raised himself in the water, and struck him a powerful blow, that shivered the blade of the oar into fragments. It was a fatal blow; and the buck ceased his struggles, and lay motionless on the water. It was a lucky circ.u.mstance for Brave that Archie had taken part in the fight, for the poor dog had experienced some pretty rough handling. He had received several wounds from the sharp hoofs of the buck, and there was a severe cut in his neck, from which the blood was flowing profusely; but the way he continued to shake the buck after Archie had dealt the fatal blow showed that there was plenty of fight left in him. Frank carefully lifted him into the boat, and, by their united efforts, after a good deal of hard work, the buck was thrown in after him. The boys then climbed in themselves, and Frank said,

"Well, we have captured our first deer, haven't we?"

"I wish we had never seen him," answered Archie. "We've lost our guns by the operation."

"I am afraid so; but we will, at least, make an attempt to recover them."

"How will we go to work?"

"We will dive for them."

Archie shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply.

Frank's first care was to bandage Brave's neck with his handkerchief.

He then divested himself of his clothes, and, after wringing the water out of them, he spread them out in the bow of the boat to dry.

"I don't much like the idea of going down in there," said Archie, looking dubiously at the dark, muddy water; "there may be snakes in it, or it may be full of logs, or the bottom may be covered with weeds that will catch hold of a fellow's leg and keep him down."

"I can't help it," said Frank; "we must have the guns; I'd rather risk any thing than lose them. The only thing I am afraid of is that the water is too deep. I'll be a little careful at first"

So saying, he lowered himself over the side of the boat, and, drawing in a long breath, sank slowly out of sight.

Meanwhile Archie was pulling off his clothes, and, when his cousin appeared, he exclaimed,

"How do things look down there? Rather muddy, isn't it?"

"Yes," answered Frank, as he wiped the water from his face, "but the bottom is all clear, and the water is only about fifteen feet deep."

"Did you see any thing of the guns?"

"No, I couldn't stay down long enough to make observations. I'm going to dive this time," he continued, as he commenced climbing back into the boat.

"Well, here goes!" said Archie.

And, clasping his hands above his head, he dived out of sight, and Frank followed close after.

When the latter again appeared at the surface, he found Archie holding on to the boat, with one of the guns elevated above his head, to allow the water to run out of the barrels.

The boys climbed up into the boat, and dived again, but neither of them met with any success. The next time Archie was again the fortunate one, for, when Frank rose to the surface, he was climbing up into the boat, with the other gun in his hand.

"I don't call this a very unlucky hunt, after all," said Frank.

"Neither do I," said Archie. "I say, Frank," he continued, "I wish we could reproduce in our museum the scene we have just pa.s.sed through."

"So do I. If we could represent the buck in the act of upsetting us, it would be our 'masterpiece,' wouldn't it? But I am afraid that is further than our ingenuity extends."

The boys drew on their clothes, which were but partially dry, and, after pulling ash.o.r.e to get the hounds, which had kept up a loud barking all the time, they turned the boat's head toward home.

After changing their clothes and eating a hearty dinner--during which they related their adventure to Mrs. Nelson and Julia--they carefully removed the buck's skin, and hung it up in the shop by a fire to dry.

Their guns were found to be none the worse for their ducking; the loads, of course, were wet, and had to be drawn, but a good coat of oil, and a thorough rubbing inside and out, made them look as good as new.

During the afternoon, as the boys sat on the piazza in front of the house, talking over the events of the morning, their attention was attracted by a combat that was going on between one of Frank's pet kingbirds and a red-headed woodp.e.c.k.e.r. The latter was flying zigzag through the air, and the kingbird was pecking him most unmercifully.

At length the woodp.e.c.k.e.r took refuge in a tree that stood on the bank of the creek, and then seemed perfectly at his ease. He always kept on the opposite side of the tree, and the kingbird, active as he was, could not reach him. His loud, angry twittering soon brought his mate to his a.s.sistance, and then the woodp.e.c.k.e.r found himself between two fires. After trying in vain to elude them, he suddenly popped into a hole in the tree, and stuck out his long bill, as if defying them to enter. The kingbirds were completely outwitted; and, after making two or three angry darts at the hole in which their cunning enemy had taken refuge, they settled down on the branches close by to wait until he should show himself. They had no intention of giving up the contest. The woodp.e.c.k.e.r seemed to take matters very coolly, and improved his time by pounding away industriously on the inside of the tree. Occasionally he would thrust his head out of the hole, but, seeing his enemies still on the watch, he would dodge back, and go to work again.

After waiting fully a quarter of an hour for him to come out, and seeing that the kingbirds had no idea of "raising the siege," Archie concluded (to age his own expression) that he "might as well lend a little a.s.sistance." So he ran round to the shop, and, having procured an ax, he went up to the tree, and dealt it a heavy blow. The next moment the woodp.e.c.k.e.r flew out, and the kingbirds were after him in an instant They followed him until he reached the woods, and then returned to the cottage.

CHAPTER XIII.

A 'c.o.o.n-Hunt.