"By heaven!" I cried, "look, Teachman! Garry, look! There! See you not
that noble buck?--he leaped that sumac bush like a race-horse! and see!
see! now he will take the water. Bad luck on it! he sees us, and heads
back!"
Again the fleet hounds rally in his rear, and chide till earth and air
are vocal and harmonious. Hark! hark! how Archer's cheers ring on the
wind! Now he turns once again--he nears the edge--how glorious! with
what a beautiful bold bound he leaped from that high bluff into the
flashing wave! with what a majesty he tossed his antlered head above the
spray! with how magnificent and brave a stroke he breasts the curling
billows!"
"Give way! my men, give way!"
How the frail bark creaks and groans as we ply the long oars in the
rullocks--how the ash bends in our sturdy grasp--how the boat springs
beneath their impulse.
"Together, boys! together! now--now we gain--now, Garry, lay your oar
aside--up with your musket--now you are near enough--give it to him, in
heaven's name! a good shot, too! the bullet ricocheted from the lake
scarcely six inches from his nose! Give way again--it's my shot now!"
And lifting my Joe Manton, each barrel loaded with a bullet carefully
wadded with greased buckskin, I took a careful aim and fired.
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