Part 15 (2/2)
This thought swaying me, I called out:
”Holt! you are a brave man. I know it. Why should this go on? It is not too late--”
”_You_ air a coward!” cried he, interrupting me, ”an' I know it--a sneakin' coward, in spite o' yur soger clothes! Shet up yur durned head, or ye'll scare away the birds! an', by the tarnal! ef you do, I'll fire at ye, the fust that takes wing!”
”Let that be the signal, then!” cried I, roused to an impatient indignation by this new insult: ”_the first that takes wing_!”
”Agreed!” was the quick rejoinder, delivered in a tone that bespoke determination to abide by it.
My irresolution troubled me no longer. Thus driven to bay, I felt that further forbearance would not only be idle, but dangerous. It was playing with my life, to leave it in the hands of this unrelenting enemy. Better make _him_ suffer for his sanguinary folly, than be myself its victim. Stirred by these thoughts, I grasped my rifle--now for the first time with a determination to make use of it. By the same prompting, my eye became active--watching with resolute regard the movements of the birds, and measuring the ground that separated me from my adversary.
Notwithstanding the sting which his words had inflicted, I was yet hampered by some considerations of mercy. I had no desire to _kill_ the man, if I could avoid it. To ”cripple” him would be sufficient. I had no fear of his having the shot before me. Long practice had given me such adroitness in the use of my weapon, that I could handle it with the quickness and skill of a juggler. Neither did I fear to miss my aim. I had perfect reliance on the sureness of my sight; and, with such a mark as the huge body of the squatter, it was impossible I could miss. In this respect, the advantage was mine; and, at so short a distance, I could have insured a fatal shot--had such been my intention. But it was not. The very contrary was my wish--to draw blood without inflicting a mortal wound. This would perhaps satisfy the honour of my antagonist, and bring our strife to an end.
Whether any such consideration was in his mind, I could not tell. It was not visible in his eye--nor in his features that, throughout the whole scene, preserved their stern statue-like rigidity. There was no help for it--no alternative but to shoot at him, and shoot him down--if possible, only to wing him; but, of course, a sense of my own danger rendered this last of less than secondary importance. A single exchange of shots would, no doubt decide the affair; and the advantage would fall to him who was ”quickest on the trigger.” To obtain this advantage, then, I watched with eager eye the behaviour of the birds. In like manner was my antagonist, occupied.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
THE DUEL DELAYED.
Full five minutes pa.s.sed, and not one of the vultures showed signs of stirring--five minutes of prolonged and terrible suspense. It was odd that the birds had not at once swooped down upon the piece of venison: since it lay conspicuously upon the ground--almost under the tree where they were perched! A score of them there were--ranged along the dead limbs--each with an eye keen of sight as an eagle's! Beyond doubt, they observed the object--they would have seen it a mile off, and recognised it too--why, then, were they disregarding it--a circ.u.mstance so contradictory of their natural instincts and habits, that, even in that dread hour, I remarked its singularity? The cause might have been simple enough: perhaps the birds had already glutted themselves elsewhere? Some wild beast of the woods--more likely, some straying ox--had fallen a victim to disease and the summer heats; and his carcase had furnished them with their morning's meal? There was evidence of the truth of this, in their blood-stained beaks and gorged maws, as also the indolent att.i.tudes in which they roosted--many of them apparently asleep! Others at intervals stretched forth their necks, and half spread their wings; but only to yawn and catch the cooling breeze. Not one of all the listless flock, showed the slightest disposition to take wing.
There were several already in the air, wheeling high aloft; and two or three had just joined their companions--increasing the cl.u.s.ter upon the tree. These had arrived, after we had taken our stand; and others were constantly coming down. But the signal mutually agreed to was mutually understood: it was the _departure_ of one of the birds--not its _arrival_--that was to give the cue of _entree_ to the tragic act--the signal for the scene of death.
Those five minutes to me appeared fifty--ah! far more than that: for, brief as was the actual time, a world of thoughts pa.s.sed through my mind during its continuance. The past and future were alike considered. The memory of home, kindred, and friends; the probability that all such ties were to be severed _now_ and for ever; some regret that laurels lately won were to be so briefly worn; the near prospect of life's termination; of a death inglorious--perhaps scarcely to be recorded; vague visions of a future world; doubts not unmingled with dread, about the life to come: such were the thoughts that whirled confusedly through my brain.
And the _proximate_ past had also its share in my reflections--perhaps occupying the largest s.p.a.ce of all. That thing of light and gold--that but an hour ago had filled my heart to overflowing--was still there, mingling with its last emotions! Was I never more to look upon that radiant form? never more behold that face so divinely fair? never more listen to that melodious voice? Never more! The negative answer to these mental interrogatives--though only conjectural--was the bitterest reflection of all!
Still stir not the vultures: only to preen their black plumes with fetid beak; or, extending their broad wings, to shadow the sunbeam from their bodies. It is the hour of noon; and the sun, s.h.i.+ning down from the zenith, permeates the atmosphere with his sultriest rays. The birds droop under the extreme heat. It imbues them with a listless torpor.
Carrion itself would scarce tempt them from their perch. Five minutes have elapsed; and not one moves from the tree--neither to swoop to the earth, nor soar aloft in the air! I no longer wish them to tarry. The suspense is terrible to endure--the more so from the ominous stillness that reigns around. Since the last angry challenge, not a word has been exchanged between my adversary and myself. In sullen silence, we eye each other, with scintillating glances watching for the signal.
The situation was more than unpleasant. I longed for the _finale_. My antagonist also showed signs of impatience. No longer preserving his statue-like _pose_, his body began to sway from side to side; while at intervals, he stamped the ground with his heavy heel. From the increasing anger that betrayed itself in his looks, I expected an explosion. It came at length. ”Durn them buzzarts!” cried he, with a hurried gesture, ”thar agwine to keep us stannin' hyur till sundown.
Durn the sleepy brutes! we can't wait no longer on 'em. I dare ye--”
The challenge thus commenced was never completed--at all events, I did not hear its conclusion; and know not to this hour what he meant to have proposed. His speech was interrupted, and his voice drowned, by the shrill neighing of my horse--who seemed startled at some sound from the forest. Almost at the same instant, I heard a responsive neigh, as if it were an echo from behind me. I heeded neither the one nor the other.
I saw that the birds were aroused from their lethargic att.i.tude. Some of them appeared as if pressing upon their limbs to spring upwards from the tree. The deadly moment had come!
With my rifle raised almost to the level, I glanced rapidly towards my antagonist. His piece was also raised; but, to my astonishment, he appeared to be grasping it mechanically, as if hesitating to take aim!
His glance, too, showed irresolution. Instead of being turned either upon myself or the vultures, it was bent in a different direction, and regarding with fixed stare some object behind me! I was facing round to inquire the cause, when I heard close at hand the trampling of a horse; and, almost at the same instant, an exclamation, uttered in the silvery tones of a woman's voice. This was followed by a wild scream; and, simultaneously with its utterance, I beheld a female form springing over the bars! It was that of a young girl, whom I recognised at a glance.
It was she I had encountered in the forest!
I had not time to recover from my surprise before the girl had glided past me; and I followed her with my eyes, as she ran rapidly over the s.p.a.ce that separated me from the squatter. Still mute with surprise, I saw her fling herself on the breast of my antagonist--at the same time crying out in a tone of pa.s.sionate entreaty: ”Father, dear father! what has _he_ done? Mercy! O mercy!”
Good G.o.d! _her_ father? Holt _her_ father?
”Away, Lil!” cried the man in a peremptory tone, removing her arms from his neck. ”Away, gurl! git ye from, hyur!”
”No, father! dear father! you will not? What does it mean? What has _he_ done? Why are you angry with _him_?”
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