CHAPTER VI.
The White Buck.
It was a week before Frank was able to travel, during which timeGeorge and Archie had been sent back to Uncle Joe's after supplies ofbread, coffee, and salt. Early one morning they again set out, thetrapper leading the way more slowly than at the former part of thejourney, so as not to weary his young companion. They halted at noonfor dinner, and about four o'clock in the afternoon they reached adilapidated cabin.
"This yere is to be our camp for awhile," said Dick, throwing hisrifle into the hollow of his arm. "I camped here last winter; but Isee the shantee is well-nigh broke down. But we can soon set it torights agin."
They leaned their guns against the logs of the cabin, and Archie andGeorge cut down some saplings with which to repair the roof; while theothers cleared out the old pine boughs that covered the floor, anderected a new crane over the fireplace, which was a hole about fourfeet in diameter and a foot and a half deep, that had been dug in themiddle of the floor. An opening in the roof directly over this didduty both as chimney and window. Before dark the cabin was put inorder again, and the hunters began to prepare their supper.
The next morning the trapper, after giving Frank emphatic directionsto remain quiet during the day, set out, with Useless at his heels, tolook for "otter signs." George and Archie followed him with theirfox-traps; and Frank and Harry, being left to themselves, shoulderedtheir guns, and strolled slowly through the woods, and amusedthemselves in shooting rabbits, which were very abundant. In a shorttime they had secured game enough for dinner, and were about toretrace their steps toward the cabin, when the dog, which was somedistance in advance of them, suddenly stopped, and, after listening amoment, uttered a low whine, ran back to his master, and took refugebehind him.
"What's the matter with the dog, I wonder?" said Frank, patting theanimal's head, and endeavoring to encourage him.
"I don't know," answered Harry, clutching his gun more firmly; "hemust have seen or scented some wild animal. Perhaps it would be saferto go back a little way. I shouldn't like the idea of meeting a bearor panther;" and Harry began to retreat.
"Hold on," said Frank; "don't be in a hurry. If it is a panther, weare certainly a match for him. Our guns are loaded with buck-shot."
"I know it; but if I should see one of the 'varmints,' as Dick callsthem, I should be so excited that I couldn't shoot at all. I think wehad better"--
"Hush!" interrupted Frank. "Don't you hear something?"
The boys listened, and a faint cry, like the yelping of a pack ofhounds, was borne to their ears.
"It can't be dogs," said Frank, "for if it was, Brave would not havebeen so frightened; besides, it does not sound exactly like them, andI know of no hunter in this part of the country that keeps hounds."
"I wonder if that is what Brave heard?" said Harry.
"It must be," replied Frank, watching the motions of his dog, whichappeared to grow more excited as the sound came nearer. "I would liketo know what it is."
"We shall soon find out, for it seems to be coming this way. Let'shide behind some of these trees."
The boys, accordingly, concealed themselves, and waited impatiently,with a great deal of anxiety, for the animals to come in sight. Louderand louder grew the noise, and Harry, turning to his companion, withblanched cheeks, exclaimed:
"It's the cry of a pack of wolves. Let's get away from here."
"O, no," said Frank. "They must be in pursuit of something. Let uswait and see what it is."
There was something appalling in the sound, which now began to echoloudly through the woods, and it was no wonder that Harry wished toretreat. Even Brave, although he was a very courageous dog, seemedstruck with terror, and crept up behind his master, as if endeavoringto get out of sight. But Frank, with his usual recklessness,determined to stand his ground as long as possible.
The wolves seemed to be running directly toward them, and the boysheld their guns to their shoulders, ready to shoot the first one thatappeared. In a few moments there was a crashing in the bushes, and awhite object was seen gliding among the trees, while behind himfollowed a pack of a dozen wolves. They ran with their ears laid closeback to their heads, and their mouths open, displaying frightful rowsof teeth. Frank gazed at them a moment, and then turned his attentionto the game. Could he believe his eyes! It was a _white buck_. He wasrunning at the top of his speed; but his tongue was hanging out of hismouth, and his legs were horribly lacerated by the sharp crust, intowhich he sank at every step. He was evidently almost tired out, andthe wolves were gaining on him rapidly. Frank had often heard of whitedeer, but had never seen one before, and he determined to take a handin the affair, and, if possible, rescue the buck from his pursuers.
"Shoot the wolves, Harry," he exclaimed, "and save the deer. We wanthim ourselves."
"Don't shoot--don't," urged Harry. "The wolves will turn on us."
But it was too late. Frank's gun was at his shoulder in an instant,and the foremost of the pack leaped high in the air, and fell to theground, dead. The others stopped and ravenously attacked their fallencomrade, and in a moment every vestige of him had disappeared. Thewhite buck kept on his way, and soon disappeared from their sight.
"Shoot 'em, Harry," exclaimed Frank, excitedly, turning to hiscompanion, who stood holding his gun in his hand, and gazing at thewolves as though he had suddenly been deprived of all action; "shoot'em, and don't be standing there like a bump on a log. They'll pitchinto us, sure, and the more we kill now, the less we shall have todeal with by-and-by."
This seemed to bring Harry back to his senses, and he hurriedly raisedhis gun to his shoulder and endeavored to cover one of the wolves withthe sight. But he was trembling violently, and his gun swayed aboutlike a leaf in a storm.
"Why don't you shoot?" exclaimed Frank.
Harry pressed the trigger, and the loud yell that followed showed thatthe shot had not been thrown away. One of the wolves was severelywounded. Maddened by the pain, he dashed toward the place where theboys were standing, followed by the whole pack.
"Take to a tree, quick!" exclaimed Frank, who began to be surprised athis own coolness; "it's our only chance. Be sure and keep a good holdof your gun." Suiting the action to the word, he swung himself intothe lowest branches of a small pine that stood near, and, reachingdown, seized Brave by his long hair and pulled him up after him. Itwas slow climbing among the thick branches, with a gun in one hand anda dog nearly as heavy as himself in the other; and he had scarcelyascended out of reach before the wolves were around the tree. Severalof the pack leaped among the branches, and made desperate efforts toreach him, while their dismal howls made his blood run cold.
"Hold on, down there," muttered Frank. "Wait until I get Brave fixed,and then I'll soon be even with you."
After feeling in all his pockets, he found a stout strap, with whichhe tied his dog fast to the branches, so that he would not fall downamong the wolves.
"I say, Frank, where are you?" shouted Harry, from his tree.
"Here I am," answered Frank. "Are you all right?"
"Yes; but I had a narrow escape, I tell you. The wolves pulled off oneof my boots as I was climbing up this tree. You're always getting afellow into some scrape or other, ain't you?"
"I don't call this much of a scrape," answered Frank. "We're safe, atany rate."
"I know it," replied Harry, who seemed to be regaining his courage."But we may have to stay up here a week."
"No we won't--not if our ammunition holds out," answered Frank,pushing his gun through the branches of the tree. "I'm going tocommence shooting them."
"That's a good plan; I did not think of that."
The report of Harry's gun followed his words, and feeling safe in histree, he made a good shot, the largest of the wolves receiving theentire charge in his head. The boys continued to load and fire untilthe last wolf was killed, when they dropped down from the trees, andtook a survey of their work. Nine wolves were lying dead on the snow,which was saturated with blood, and a t
enth was endeavoring to crawlaway on two legs. Brave immediately commenced a battle with him, butthe wolf had plenty of fight left in him, and was killed only after ahard struggle.
"Now," said Frank, "let's follow up that white buck. I would givealmost any thing to catch him alive. He is pretty well tired out, andcan't run far."
"Lead on, then," said Harry; "but, if Dick was here, he would say itwas no use. You know hunters are inclined to be superstitious aboutsuch things."
The boys had often heard extravagant stories told about the incrediblespeed and tenacity of life possessed by white deer, and had heard oldhunters say that it was impossible to kill or capture them. But Frankwas not superstitious. He could not see why a white deer should be sowidely different from one of the ordinary color. At all events, hedetermined to make an attempt to capture the white buck--which wouldmake a valuable addition to his museum. So, leaving the wolves wherethey had fallen, he led the way along the trail, which could be easilyfollowed by the blood on the snow. They had run nearly a mile, whenthey discovered the white buck a short distance ahead of them, makinghis way slowly through the snow, and staggering as though he werescarcely able to keep his feet.
"There he is," exclaimed Frank, joyfully. "Catch him, Brave."
The dog was off in an instant, and although the buck made an effort torun, he was speedily overtaken, and pulled down without a show ofresistance. The boys hurried forward to secure their captive, whichstruggled desperately as they approached. But at length Franksucceeded in fastening his belt around his neck. The buck staggered tohis feet, and, after a few ineffectual attempts to escape, seemed tosubmit to his fate, and suffered himself to be led toward the cabin.He was one of the most noble specimens of the common deer that theboys had ever seen. He stood nearly five feet high at the shoulders,and his head was crowned with antlers, which Frank had learned, fromexperience, would prove no mean weapons in a fight. He was evidentlyan "old settler," and had seen some stirring times during his life,for his body was almost covered with scars. They reached the campwithout any mishap, and Harry brought from the cabin a long rope withwhich the captive was fastened to a tree. After a short struggle,during which the boys received some pretty severe scratches from thebuck's sharp hoofs, his legs were rudely bandaged, and he was left tohimself.
After a hastily-eaten dinner, the boys returned to the scene of theirlate fight with the wolves, to procure some of the skins, which Frankwished to mount in his museum. They got back to the cabin just beforedark, and found Dick leaning on his long rifle, and closely examiningthe buck. Useless was seated at his side, and near him lay threeotter-skins, which they had captured during the day.
"See here, youngsters," exclaimed the trapper, as the boys came up,"what's all this yere?"
"O, that's our day's work," replied Frank.
"Give us your hands, youngsters," continued Dick. "Shoot me if youhain't done somethin' that I tried all last winter to do an'couldn't. If I shot at that buck onct, I shot at him twenty times. Doyou see that scar on his flank? I made that. An' there's another onhis neck. When I hit him there I thought I had him sure; for he warthrowed in his tracks, an' when Useless come up to grab him, he war upan' off like a shot. If you war with some trappers I know, they wouldtell you to cut that rope an' let him get away from here as fast as hecould travel. Some fellers think these yere white deer have got theEvil One in 'em."
"O, that's all nonsense," said Frank; "a white deer isn't a bitdifferent from any other, only in the color."
"That's what I used to tell 'em," said Dick. "But this yere is myday's work," he added, lifting the otter-skins from the ground; "and agood one it is, too. But five mile back the woods are full of otter,an' a little further on is a beaver-dam--eight houses in it--fortybeaver at the least kalkerlation."
As the trapper finished speaking, he shouldered his rifle and led theway into the cabin, where a fire was soon started, and some choicepieces of venison, which had been brought in by him were laid on thecoals to broil. In a few moments, George and Archie entered, and thelatter inquired:
"Who caught that white buck?"
Frank gave him the desired information, and also related theiradventure with the wolves; when Archie continued:
"I'm glad you caught him, for you always wanted one for your museum.We came near catching a black fox for you."
"A black fox!" repeated the trapper.
"Yes; the largest one I ever saw," said George. "He's black as acoal--hasn't got a white hair on him, except the very tip of histail."
"I know him," answered the trapper. "Him an' Useless had more'n onerace last winter. You found his trail down by that little creek thatruns through that deep hollow."
"Yes," answered Archie.
"An' lost it up here in the woods but two mile back."
"Yes," said Archie again.
"An' that's the way you'll keep doin' as often as you chase him. Youcan't ketch him. He's an ole one in these parts, an' I guess he'llstay here till he dies a nat'ral death."
"No, I'll be shot if he does," said Archie, decidedly, as he depositedhis gun on a couple of pegs in one corner of the cabin, and began todivest himself of his overcoat. "I've got a dog that was never fooledyet. There was a fox that used to live on Reynard's Island, a shortdistance from Lawrence, and he had been chased by all the best dogs inthe country; but the first time he got Sport on his trail, he was agone sucker. I'm going to start out early to-morrow and try that blackfox again, and if I don't catch him the first day, I'll try him thenext, and keep it up till I do succeed. I don't mean to leave thesewoods without him."
"Then you'd better send home for plenty of grub," said the trapper,"for you'll have to stay here all winter."
"Supper's ready," said Frank; and this announcement cut short theconversation.