CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE.
THE MAN-HUNTER.
The hounds had fallen into the water--one dead, the other badly wounded.The latter could not have escaped, as one of his legs had been struckby the bullet, and his efforts to swim were but the throes ofdesperation. In a few minutes he must have gone to the bottom; but itwas not his fate to die by drowning. It was predestined that hishowling should be brought to a termination in a far different manner.
The voice of the dog is music to the ear of the alligator. Of all otheranimals, this is the favourite prey of the great saurian; and the howlof hound or cur will attract him from any distance where it may beheard.
Naturalists have endeavoured to explain this in a different way. Theysay--and such is the fact--that the howling of a dog bears a resemblanceto the voice of the young alligator, and that the old ones are attractedtowards the spot where it is heard--the mother to protect it, and themale parent to devour it!
This is a disputed point in natural history; but there can be no disputethat the alligator eagerly preys upon the dog whenever an opportunityoffers--seizing the canine victim in his terrible jaws, and carrying itoff to his aqueous retreat. This he does with an air of such earnestavidity, as to leave no doubt but that he esteems the dog a favouritemorsel.
I was not surprised, then, to see half-a-dozen of these giganticreptiles emerging from amid the dark tree-trunks, and hastily swimmingtowards the wounded hound.
The continued howling of the latter guided them; and in a few secondsthey had surrounded the spot where he struggled, and were dashingforward upon their victim.
A shoal of sharks could not have finished him more expeditiously. Ablow from the tail of one silenced his howling--three or four pair ofgaunt jaws closed upon him at the same time--a short scuffle ensued--then the long bony heads separated, and the huge reptiles were seenswimming off again--each with a morsel in his teeth. A few bubbles andblotches of red froth mottling the inky surface of the water, were allthat remained where the hound had lately been plunging.
Almost a similar scene occurred on the opposite side of the log--for thewater was but a few feet in depth, and the dead hound was visible as helay at the bottom. Several of the reptiles approaching on that side,had seen this one at the same time, and, rushing forward, they servedhim precisely as his companion had been served by the others. A crumbof bread could not have disappeared sooner among a shoal of hungryminnows, than did the brace of deer-hounds down the throats of theseravenous reptiles.
Singular as was the incident, it had scarce drawn my notice. I had farother things to think of.
After firing the pistol, I remained standing upon the tree, with my eyesfixed in the direction whence came the hounds.
I gazed intently among the tree-trunks, away up the dark vistas of theforest, I watched the cane-brake, to note the slightest motion in thereeds. I listened to every sound, while I stood silent myself, andenjoined silence upon my trembling companion.
I had but little hope then. There would be more dogs, no doubt--slowerhounds following in the distance--and with them the mounted man-hunters.They could not be far behind--they could not fail to come up soon--thesooner that the report of my pistol would guide them to the spot. Itwould be of no use making opposition to a crowd of angry men. I coulddo nothing else than surrender to them.
My companion entreated me to this course; abjured me not to use myweapons--for I now held the second pistol in my hand. But I had nointention of using them should the crowd of men come up; I had onlytaken out the pistol as a precaution against the attack of the dogs--should any more appear.
For a good while I heard no sounds from the forest, and saw no signs ofour pursuers. What could be detaining them? Perhaps the crossing ofthe bayou; or the tract of marsh. I knew the horsemen must there leavethe trail; but were they all mounted?
I began to hope that Gabriel might yet be in time. If he had not heardthe signal-whistle, he must have heard the reports of my pistol? But,on second thoughts, that might only keep him back. He would notunderstand the firing, and might fear to come with the pirogue!
Perhaps he had heard the first signal, and was now on his way. It wasnot too late to entertain such a supposition. Notwithstanding what hadpassed, we had been yet but a short while upon the spot. If on the way,he might think the shots were fired from my double-barrelled gun--firedat some game. He might not be deterred. There was still a hope hemight come in time. If so, we would be able to reach his tree-cave insafety.
There was no trace of the dogs, save a blotch or two of blood upon therough bark of the log, and that was not visible from the shore. Unlessthere were other dogs to guide them to the spot, the men might not inthe darkness so easily discover these marks. We might yet baffle them!
With fresh hope I turned once more towards the water, and gazed in thedirection in which I expected the pirogue to come. Alas! there was nosign of it. No sound came from the lake save the wild calling of theaffrighted birds.
I turned once more to the land.
I saw the cane-brake in motion. The tall culms vibrated and crackledunder the heavy tread of a man, who the next moment emerging into theopen ground, advanced at a slinging trot towards the water!
He was alone and afoot--there were no dogs with him--but the long riflepoised upon his shoulder, and the hunting accoutrements around his body,told me at a glance he was the owner of the deer-hounds.
His black bushy beard, his leggings, and buckskin shirt, his redneckcloth and raccoon cap--but above all, the brutal ferocity of hisvisage, left me in no doubt as to who this character was. Thedescription of the runaway answered him in every particular. He couldbe no other than _Ruffin the man-hunter_!