Part 32 (2/2)
The conversation was interrupted at this point by the entrance of Hunky Ben bearing a deer on his l.u.s.ty shoulders. He was followed by d.i.c.k Darvall.
”There,” said the former, throwing the carca.s.s on the floor, ”I told ye I wouldn't be long o' bringin' in somethin' for the pot.”
”Ay, an' the way he shot it too,” said the seaman, laying aside his rifle, ”would have made even a monkey stare with astonishment. Has Leather come back, by the way? I see'd him goin' full sail through the woods when I went out this mornin'.”
”He has not yet returned,” said Charlie. ”When I relieved him and sat down to watch by our friend here, he said he felt so much better and stronger that he would take his gun and see if he couldn't find something for the pot. I advised him not to trust his feelings too much, and not to go far, but--ah, here he comes to answer for himself.”
As he spoke a step was heard outside, and next moment Shank entered, carrying a brace of rabbits which he flung down, and then threw himself on a couch in a state of considerable exhaustion.
”There,” said he, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. ”They've cost me more trouble than they're worth, for I'm quite done up. I had no idea I had become so weak in the legs. Ralph, my dear fellow,” he added, forgetting himself for the moment as he rose and went to his friend's side, ”I have more sympathy with you, now that I have found out the extent of my own weakness. Do you feel better!”
”Yes, old boy--much--much better.”
”That's all right. I'm convinced that--hallo! why, who shot the deer!”
”Hunky Ben has beat you,” said Charlie.
”Beat Leather!” exclaimed Darvall, ”why, he beats all creation. I never see'd anything like it since I went to sea.”
”Since you came ash.o.r.e, you should say. But come, d.i.c.k,” said Charlie, ”let's hear about this wonderful shooting. I'm sure it will amuse Buck--unless he's too wearied to listen.”
”Let him talk,” said the invalid. ”I like to hear him.”
Thus exhorted and encouraged the seaman recounted his day's experience.
”Well, you must know, messmates,” said he, ”that I set sail alone this mornin', havin' in my pocket the small compa.s.s I always carry about me-- also my bearin's before startin', so as I shouldn't go lost in the woods--though that wouldn't be likely in such an narrow inlet as this Traitor's Trap, to say nothin' o' the landmarks alow and aloft of all sorts. I carried a Winchester with me, because, not bein' what you may call a crack shot, I thought it would give me a better chance to have a lot o' resarve shots in the locker, d'ye see? I carried also a six-shooter, as it might come handy, you know, if I fell in wi' a Redskin or a bear, an' got to close quarters. Also my cutla.s.s, for I've bin used to that aboard s.h.i.+p when I was in the navy.
”Well, away I went--makin' sail down the valley to begin with, an' then a long tack into the mountains right in the wind's eye, that bein' the way to get on the blind side o' game. I hadn't gone far when up starts a bird o' some sort--”
”What like was it?” asked the scout.
”No more notion than the man in the moon,” returned the sailor. ”What wi' the flutter an' scurry an' leaves, branches an' feathers--an' the start--I see'd nothin' clear, an' I was so anxious to git somethin' for the pot, that six shots went arter it out o' the Winchester, before I was quite sure I'd begun to fire--for you must know I've larned to fire uncommon fast since I come to these parts. Hows'ever, I hit nothin'--”
”Not quite so bad as that, d.i.c.k,” interrupted the scout gravely.
”Well, that's true, but you better tell that part of it yourself, Hunky, as you know more about it than me.”
”It wasn't of much consequence,” said the scout betraying the slightest possible twinkle in his grey eyes, ”but d.i.c.k has a knack o' lettin'
drive without much regard to what's in front of him. I happened to be more in front of him than that bird when he began to fire, an' the first shot hit my right leggin', but by good luck only grazed the bark. Of course I dropped behind a rock when the storm began and lay quiet there, and when a lull came I halloo'd.”
”Yes, he did halloo,” said d.i.c.k, resuming the narrative, ”an' that halloo was more like the yell of a bull of Bashan than the cry of a mortal man. It made my heart jump into my throat an' stick there, for I thought I must have killed a whole Redskin tribe at one shot--”
”Six shots, d.i.c.k. Tell the exact truth an' don't contradic' yourself,”
said Hunky.
”No, it wasn't,” retorted the seaman stoutly. ”It was arter the _first_ shot that you gave the yell. Hows'ever, I allow that the echoes kep' it goin' till the six shots was off--an' I can tell you, messmates, that the hallooin' an' flutterin' an' scurryin' an echoin' an' thought of Redskins in my brain all mixed up wi' the blatterin' shots, caused such a rumpus that I experienced considerable relief when the smoke cleared away an' I see'd Hunky Ben in front o' me laughin' fit to bu'st his sides.”
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