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"No," said Joe.
"Did you not accompany me, and fire at the buck?" interrogated Glenn, resuming his seat.
"No--I'll be hanged if I did!" said Joe somewhat warmly.
"What have I been doing all day?"
"You've been sitting there fast asleep, and I presume you were dreaming."
"Thank Heaven, it was but a dream!" exclaimed Glenn, laughing.
"A dream?" responded Joe, sitting down on his stool, and soliciting Glenn to relate it to him. Glenn complied, and the narration was nothing more than what the incredulous reader has been staring at all this time. But we will make amends.
CHAPTER VI.
A hunt--A deer taken--The hounds--Joe makes a horrid discovery --Sneak--The exhumation.
"It beats all the dreams I ever heard," said Joe, feeling his right shoulder with his left hand..
"Why do you feel your shoulder, Joe?" asked Glenn, smiling, as he recollected the many times his man had suffered by the rebound of his musket, and diverted at the grave and thoughtful expression of his features.
"It _was_ a dream, wasn't it?" asked Joe, with simplicity, still examining his shoulder.
"But you know there was no lead in the gun, and it could not rebound with much violence," said Glenn.
"I'll soon see all about it," exclaimed Joe, springing up and running to his gun. After a careful examination he returned to his stool beside the fire, and sat some minutes, with the musket lying across his knees, and his chin in his hand, plunged in profound meditation on the imaginary incidents which had just been related to him. Had the dream been an ordinary one, and he not an actor in it, it might have pa.s.sed swiftly from his memory; but inasmuch as the conduct imputed to him was so natural, and the expressions he was made to utter so characteristic, he could not but regard it as a vision far more significant and important than a mere freak of the brain during a moment of slumber.
"What are you studying about?" interrogated Glenn.
"I can't understand it," replied Joe, shaking his head.
"Neither can the most renowned philosopher," said Glenn; "but you can tell whether your musket has been discharged."
"It hasn't been fired," said Joe. "But what distresses me is, that there should be only a charge of powder in it, just as you stated, and when I drew out the shot you were fast asleep. You must have heard me say I intended to do it."
"Not that I remember," said Glenn.
"Then there must be a wizard about, sure enough," said Joe, and he crossed himself.
"Suppose we take our guns and walk out in the direction mentioned?"
said Glenn; "I feel the want of exercise after my sleep, and have some curiosity to test the accuracy of my dream by comparing the things described with the real objects on the island."
"Not for the world!" cried Joe, lifting both hands imploringly; "but I will gladly go anywhere else, just to see if the bushes are as beautiful as you thought they were, and if the deer can't run on the snow-crust as well as the dogs."
"Come on, then--I care not which course we go," said Glenn, taking up his gun, and leading the way out of the inclosure.
They pursued a westerly course until they reached nearly to the edge of the prairie, when they paused in the midst of a cl.u.s.ter of hazel bushes, to admire the beauty of the novel scene. The description had been perfect. Even Glenn surveyed the emblazenry of magic "frost work," around him with some misgivings as to the fallacy of his vision. Joe stared at his master with a curious and ludicrous expression.
"I am not dreaming now, Joe," said he, with a smile.
"How do you know?" asked Joe.
"That's well put," said Glenn; "indeed, I am very sure that many of my lively and spirited friends in Philadelphia and New York, could they but see me, would swear that I have been dreaming every day for the last three months. However, I have not now the same reverence for the sylvan G.o.ds I was so much inclined to worship in my last sleep; and, moreover, I am the first to see the deer this time. Yonder it stands.
It is not a buck, though; capture it as soon as you please."
"Where is it?" exclaimed Joe, his superst.i.tion vanishing as he antic.i.p.ated some sport; and, gliding quickly to Glenn's side, he beheld, under the branches of a low scrubby oak tree, the head and ears of a large doe. It was intently watching our pedestrians, and stood motionless in the ambush, on which it vainly relied to obscure it from the eyes of an enemy.
"You must not fire," said Glenn, placing his hand on the shoulder of Joe. Joe lowered his musket reluctantly, and turning his eyes to his master, seemed inclined to relapse into the belief that all was not right and natural in their proceedings.
"Now go to it," said Glenn, gently taking the gun from Joe.
"I'd rather not," said Joe.
"Why? A doe cannot hurt you--it has no horns."
"I don't fear it--I'm only afraid it will run away," said Joe, eager to secure the prize.
"Try it, at all events; if it should run very fast, I think I shall be able to arrest its career with the gun," said Glenn, who prepared to fire, provided the deer was likely to escape the clutches of Joe.
"Here goes!" cried Joe, leaping through the small bushes towards the covert. The deer moved not until Joe reached within a few feet of it, when, making a mighty spring, it bounded over the head of its a.s.sailant, and its sharp feet running through the icy surface of the snow, penetrated so far down, from the force of its weight, that it was unable to escape. It now lay quite still, with its large blue eyes turned imploringly to its foe. Joe seized it by the hind feet, and exultingly exclaimed that the prize was safely his own. The trembling and unresisting animal appeared to be as perfectly submissive as a sheep in the hands of the shearer.
"You have it, sure enough!" said Glenn, coming up and viewing the scene with interest.
"Lash me if I haven't!" said Joe, much excited. "Have you got any sort of a string about you?"
"No."
"Please cut down a hickory withe, and peel the bark off for me, while I hold its legs."
Glenn drew out his hunting knife, but paused when in the act of executing his man's request, and turning, with a smile playing upon his lip, said--
"Perhaps, Joe, this is but another dream; and if so, it is folly to give ourselves any unnecessary trouble."
"Lash me if it ain't reality!" replied Joe, as the deer at length began to struggle violently.
Extricating its feet from his grasp, the doe bestowed a well directed kick on its foe's head, which tumbled him over on his back. The animal then sprang up, but aware there was no chance of escape by running, faced about and plied its bony head so furiously against Joe's breast and sides that he was forced to scamper away with all possible expedition.
"Has it bruised you, Joe? If so, this is certainly no dream," remarked Glenn.
"Oh, goodness! I'm battered almost to a jelly. I'll take my oath there's no dreaming about this. Let me go after Ringwood and Jowler."
"It would be too cruel to let the hounds tear the poor thing," said Glenn; "but after you have bound its feet together, you may bring out one of the horses and a sled, and convey it home unhurt."
"The horses can't go in this deep snow," said Joe.