The Plant Hunters Part 18

Ha!--what!--good!"

These e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns escaped from the hunter as he cast his eyes upward.

It was a peculiarity in the form of the rocks that had caused him to utter them. He noticed that the lesser one had a sloping ridge that could be easily ascended; and from its highest point the top of the larger might also be reached by a little active climbing.

"Good!" repeated he to himself; "I'll be safe enough there, and I can easily get up if I'm chased. The top of the rock's equal to any tree.

It'll do if I am put to the pinch; so here goes for a shot, bull or no bull!"

Saying this, he once more looked to his gun; and kneeling down close in to the great rock, he commenced shuffling round one of its impending corners, in order to get within view of the herd.

He did not move one inch forward without looking well before him into the plain where the yaks were feeding, but quite as anxiously did he bend his eyes around the edge of the boulder, where he surmised the bull might be. He even listened at intervals, expecting to hear the latter breathing or giving a grunt, or some other sign, by which his presence might be made _known_.

If behind the rock at all he must be very near, thought Caspar--near enough for his breathing to be heard; and once Caspar fancied that he actually heard a grunt, which did not proceed from any of the herd.

The hunter, however, had less fear now, as he believed he could retreat to the rock before even the swiftest animal could overtake him. He therefore moved on with sufficient confidence.

You are not to suppose that all these thoughts and movements occupied much time. There were not five minutes consumed from the time Caspar arrived at the rocks, until he had taken all his measures; and another minute or two were occupied in creeping round within view of the herd-- where at length Caspar arrived.

As yet no bull was seen. He might still be there, but if so, he was farther round the corner of the rock; and the sight of the others now fair before the muzzle of Caspar's gun drove all thoughts of the bull out of his mind. He resolved to fire at the nearest.

Quick as thought the gun was to his shoulder, his finger touched the trigger, and the loud report echoed from the distant cliffs. The ball told, and a cow was bowled over, and lay sprawling on the plain. Bang went the second barrel, and a young bull with a broken leg went hobbling off toward the thicket. The rest of the herd tore away at top speed, and were soon lost sight of in the bushes.

A little calf alone remained by the cow that had fallen. It ran frisking around, uttering its singular cries, and seemingly astonished and unable to comprehend the catastrophe that had befallen its mother!

Under other circ.u.mstances Caspar would have pitied that calf--for though a hunter, he was not hard-hearted. But just then he had something else to do than give way to pity.

He had scarce aimed his second shot--even while his finger was still resting on the trigger--when a sound reached his ears that made his heart leap. It spoiled his aim in fact, or the yearling would have had it between his ribs instead of in his hind-leg. That sound could be nothing else than the grunt of the old bull himself; and so close to Caspar did it appear that the hunter suddenly dropped the muzzle of his gun, and looked around thinking the animal was right by him!

He did not see the bull on looking around; but he knew the latter could not be many feet off, just behind the angle of the boulder. Under this impression Caspar sprang to his feet, and ran with lightning speed to ascend the rock.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

FACE TO FACE WITH A FIERCE BULL.

Caspar leaped on to the lower one, and scrambled up its sloping ridge.

His eyes were turned more behind than before him, for he expected every moment to see the bull at his skirts. To his astonishment no bull had yet appeared, although as he was running around the rock twice or thrice had he heard his terrific grunting.

He now faced toward the summit, determined to climb up to the safest place. From the top he would be able to see all around, and could there watch the movements of the bull, as he fancied, in perfect security. He laid his hand on the edge of the rock and drew himself over it. It was as much as he could do. The parapet was chin high, and it required all his strength to raise himself up.

His attention was so occupied in the endeavour, that he was fairly upon the top ere he thought of looking before him; and when he did look, he saw, to his amazement and terror, that he was not alone. _The bull was there too_!

Yes! the bull was there, and had been there all the while. The top of the boulder was a flat table, several yards in length and breadth, and upon this the old bull had been quietly reclining, basking himself in the sun, and watching his wives and children as they browsed on the plain below. As he had been lying down, and close to that edge of the table which was most distant from Caspar, the latter could not have perceived him while approaching the rock. He did not even think of turning his eyes in that direction, as he would as soon have thought of looking for the old bull in the top of one of the trees. Caspar had quite forgotten what Karl had told him,--that the summits of rocks and isolated boulders are the favourite haunts of the yaks,--else he might have kept out of the sc.r.a.pe he had now fairly got into.

On perceiving his dilemma, the young hunter was quite paralysed; and for some moments stood aghast, not knowing how to act.

Fortunately for him the bull had been standing at the farthest extremity of the table, looking out over the plain. The trouble he was in about his family occupied all his attention, and he stood loudly grunting to them as if calling them back. He was unable to comprehend what had caused such a rout among them; although he had already experienced the dire effect of those loud detonations. He was "craning" forward over the edge, as if half determined to leap from the summit, instead of turning to the easier descent by which he had got up.

As Caspar scrambled up to the ledge, the rattle of his accoutrements on the rock reached the ears of the bull; and just as the former had got to his feet the latter wheeled round, and the two were now face to face!

There was a moment's pause. Caspar stood in terror; his antagonist, perhaps, also surprised at the unexpected rencontre. It was a very short pause, indeed. Almost in the next instant the fierce yak, uttering his terrific cry, charged forward.

There was no chance to evade the shock by springing to one side or the other. The s.p.a.ce was too circ.u.mscribed for such a manoeuvre, and the most adroit matador could not have executed it where Caspar stood. He was too near the edge of the rock to make the experiment. His only hope lay in bounding back as he had come; which he did almost mechanically upon the instant.

The impetus of the leap, and the slanting surface of the lower boulder, carried him onward to the bottom; and, unable any longer to retain his feet, he fell forward upon his face. He heard the rattle of the bull's hoofs upon the rock behind him; and before he could recover his feet again he felt the brute trampling over him.

Fortunately he was not hurt, and fortunately the same impetus that had flung him upon his face also carried his antagonist far beyond him; and before the latter could turn from his headlong charge, the young hunter again stood erect.

But whither was he to run? The trees were too far off;--oh! he could never reach them. The fierce beast would be on him ere he could half cross the open ground, and would drive those terrible horns into his back. Whither?--whither?

Confused and irresolute, he turned and rushed back up the rock.

This time he scaled the slope more nimbly; more lightly did he leap upon the ledge, but without any feeling of hope. It was but the quick rush of despair,--the mechanical effort of terror.

The manoeuvre did not yield him a minute's respite. His fierce antagonist saw it all, and went charging after.

Lightly the huge brute bounded up the slope, and then leaped upon the table, as if he had been a chamois or a goat. No pause made he, but rushed straight on with foaming tongue and flaming eye-b.a.l.l.s.

Now, indeed, did Caspar believe his last moment had come. He had rushed across the table of granite, and stood upon its extremest end. There was no chance to get back to the place where he had ascended. His vengeful antagonist was in the track, and he could not pa.s.s him. He must either spring down from where he stood, or be tossed from the spot upon the horns of the fierce bull. Dizzy was the height,--over twenty feet,--but there was no alternative but take the leap. He launched himself into the air.

He came down feet foremost, but the terrible shock stunned him, and he fell upon his side. The sky was darkened above him. It was the huge body of the bull that had bounded after, and the next moment he heard the heavy sound of the animal's hoofs as they came in contact with the plain.

The hunter struggled to regain his feet. He rose and fell again. One of his limbs refused to perform its functions. He felt there was something wrong; he believed that his leg was broken!

Even this fearful thought did not cause the brave youth to yield. He saw that the bull had recovered himself; and was once more approaching him. He scrambled towards the rock, dragging the useless limb behind him.

You will suppose that there was no longer a hope for him, and that the wild ox rushing upon him must certainly gore him to death. And so he would have done, had not Caspar been in the hands of Providence, who gave him a stout heart, and enabled him to make still another effort for his safety.

As he turned toward the boulder, an object came before his eyes that filled him with fresh hopes. That object was the cleft between the rocks. It was, as already described, about a foot in width, and separated the two boulders at all points,--except along the top, where they rested against each other.

Caspar's quick mind at once perceived the advantage. If he could only reach this crevice, and crawl into it in time, he might still be saved.

It was big enough for his body; it would be too narrow to admit that of his huge antagonist.

On hands and knees he glided along with desperate speed. He reached the entrance of the crevice. He clutched the angle of rock, and drew himself far inward. He had not a moment to spare. He heard the horns of the bull crash against the cheeks of the chasm; but the charge was followed by a grunt of disappointment uttered by the furious animal.

A cry of joy involuntarily escaped from the lips of the hunter,--who felt that he was saved!

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

CASPAR IN THE CLEFT.

Caspar breathed freely. He had need; for the peril he had pa.s.sed, and the rushing backward and forward, and springing over the rocks, had quite taken away his breath. He could not have lasted another minute.

The bull, thus balked of his revenge, seemed to become more furious than ever. He rushed to and fro, uttering savage grunts, and at intervals dashing his horns against the rocks, as if he hoped to break them to pieces, and open a pa.s.sage to his intended victim. Once he charged with such fury that his head entered the cleft till his steaming snout almost touched Caspar where he lay. Fortunately, the thick hairy shoulders of the bull hindered him from advancing farther; and in drawing back his head, he found that he had wedged himself; and it was with some difficulty that he succeeded in detaching his horns from the rock!

Caspar took advantage of his struggles; and seizing a stone that lay near at hand, he mauled the bull so severely about the snout, that the brute was fain to get his head clear again; and although he still stood madly pawing by the outside of the cleft, he took care not to repeat his rude a.s.sault.