Part 19 (1/2)
”Shoot him! Shoot him!” came from Fred excitedly.
”Plug him quick!” added Andy.
None of those who had followed Jack and Spouter were armed, so the fight rested entirely upon the shoulders of that pair. Circling around so as to avoid the others, Jack pulled the trigger and fired. The wildcat began flipping and flopping on the snow, badly wounded. Then Spouter discharged his firearm once more, and after this the creature lay quiet where it dropped.
”Is--is he dead?” questioned Fred, who was the first to speak. The youngest Rover was very much excited, and with good cause.
”Wait! Don't go forward!” ordered Jack, as he stepped back a few paces.
”He may be playing possum. Anyway, we had better load our guns first,”
he added to Spouter.
This advice to load immediately after discharging a weapon was one which had been well drilled into the cadets, and so now the pair lost no time in putting new charges into their weapons. Then they approached with caution, and Jack turned the wildcat over with the barrel of the gun, keeping his hand meanwhile on the trigger ready for action.
But the beast was quite dead, the charges from the two guns having gone completely through its body.
”What are you going to do with the carca.s.s?” questioned Randy, after all had made an inspection.
”Might as well leave it here,” declared Fred. ”It isn't good for anything. Even the skin is all torn from the shot.”
”No, we might as well take it along. We can hang it on the back of the boxsled,” said Gif. ”Perhaps we can use the meat to trap some other wild animals.”
A strap which one of the boys happened to carry was fastened around the neck of the wildcat, and then they carried it from the spring to where they had left the boxsled. The excitement for the time being had caused all of the cadets to forget how late it was and how cold and windy it was growing. But now, when they were once more ready to drive off, several of them began to s.h.i.+ver.
”It's going to be mighty cold before morning,” announced Randy.
”Yes, and I wish we were at that bungalow in front of a good log fire,”
added Andy.
”Now that we've discovered that wasn't the road, which way do you propose to go, Gif?” questioned Jack.
”We won't count that as a road, and we'll take the other one on the right,” was the reply. ”I don't know of anything else to do,” Gif added, somewhat helplessly.
None of the others could give advice, for the reason that this territory was entirely new to them. Even Spouter, who had visited the woods a number of times, had never been in that vicinity.
Onward they went once more, up a gentle hill and then down the slope on the other side. At the foot of the hill the road became rougher and rougher, and presently the horses had all they could do to make any progress.
”Gif, this can't be the right road,” declared Jack at last. ”If it was as rough as this, Jed Wallop would have told us about it. He said we wouldn't have any trouble at all in reaching Cedar Lodge.”
”Yes, and besides, we must have come at least five or six miles,” added Spouter.
”I'll bet we've come all of eight miles,” broke in Fred.
”That's just what I think,” declared Randy. ”I'll bet an elephant against a mouse we're on the wrong road.”
”Well, I won't dispute that, Randy,” answered the young driver of the boxsled. ”But you'll all bear witness to it that I followed directions and kept to the right.”
The road now ran along the side of a hill. Here the heavy fall of snow had slid down over the rocks and the going was anything but safe. The faithful old horses had all they could do to keep their footing.
”We'll upset the first thing you know!” exclaimed Fred, and he had scarcely spoken when the runner on the up side of the road struck a series of rocks, and the next minute all of the boys, including Gif, went tumbling from the boxsled, and some of their provisions followed.