Jack Ranger's Gun Club; Or, From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail
CHAPTER XXVIII
WILL SAVES JACK'S LIFE
"What do you think of that, Jack?" asked Nat. "Bullyragging bean-poles! but who would have expected to meet Jerry Chowden out here? What do you make of it?"
"I don't know," Jack replied. "I'm as much surprised as you are. Not only at seeing him, but at meeting those men, and at being ordered back."
"Do you think Jerry had anything to do with them making us move away?"
"How do you mean?"
"I mean do you think he told those men lies about us? Such as saying we were dangerous characters, and not safe to have around?"
"No, I hardly think that. I believe those men have something to conceal, and would order back any one who they thought would discover their secret. They ordered us back before Jerry appeared and recognized us."
"That's so. But how do you suppose he came to get in with them?"
"I don't know. It's all part of the same puzzle, I think--the mysterious sounds, the queer marks in the snow, and all that. Of course, Jerry may have met them by accident, and they might have hired him. We knew he came out West, you know, after the part he played in kidnapping us, and very likely he was willing to do any kind of rascally work these men wanted."
"Yes, that's probable. But what do you s'pose it is?"
"I give it up; that is, for the time being. But I'm going to solve this mystery, Nat, if it takes all winter. We've got something to do now besides hunt. We'll see what these men are up to. Maybe it's something criminal, such as Jonas Lavine and his gang were mixed up in."
"I hardly think that."
"What do you think, then?"
"I believe they have some rare kind of animal or bird, or, maybe, several of them, and they are going to place them on exhibition. For I'm sure the noise we heard, and the marks in the snow, were made by some gigantic bird."
"Oh, you're away off," declared Jack. "It isn't possible."
"That's all right. 'Most anything is possible nowadays," answered Nat.
They soon rejoined their comrades, and told them what had happened. Sam was for going on, defying the men, and administering a sound drubbing to Jerry.
"Then we'll find out what's up," he said, "and end all this suspense."
"Yes, and maybe get into trouble," objected Jack. "There must be several men in that camp, if it was a camp, and those we saw seemed ready to use their guns on us. No, I think we'll have to prospect around a bit first, until we see how the land lays. I'm not going to run into danger. We made a mistake by moving too suddenly in the bogus stock certificate case, and only because of good luck were the rascals caught. I'm going a little slower this time."
"Jerry Chowden is certainly going to the bad fast," declared Bony.
"We don't know that he is in anything bad this time," said Jack. "It may be all right, and those men may be engaged in some regular business. But I admit it looks suspicious."
A sharp snowstorm kept the boys in camp the next two days, but on the third, as fresh meat was getting low, they started off again after game, leaving Budge and Long Gun, as usual, in charge of the place.
"Boys, we've got to get something this time," said Jack. "The place is like Mother Hubbard's cupboard, almost bare, so don't despise even jack-rabbits, though, of course, a nice deer or a sheep would go better."
They had been directed by Long Gun to take a trail that led obliquely up the side of the mountain, as the Indian said it was a likely place for game, and at noon they camped in a little clearing for lunch, having had no sight of anything bigger than squirrels, which they would not shoot.
"I tell you what it is," said Jack, after thinking the matter over, "I believe we're too closely bunched. We ought to divide up, some go one way, and some the other. We'd be more likely to see something then. We can make a circle, and work our way around back to camp by nightfall."
"All right," agreed Sam. "Bony and I will take the trail to the left, and you can go to the right with Nat and Will. I'll wager we beat you, too."
"That's a go," agreed Jack. "Come on."
A little later the two parties of young hunters separated, and were soon lost to sight of each other.
For an hour or more Jack, Nat and Will slowly urged their horses through the light snow. They kept a sharp lookout for signs of game, but were beginning to despair of seeing any, when Jack uttered a cry.
"There's been a deer along here," he said. "And not long ago, either, if I'm any judge of the signs Long Gun taught us."
"It does look so," admitted Nat. "Easy, now, and maybe we can trail him."
"We'd better leave our horses, though," Jack went on. "It's bad going, and they make quite a bit of noise."
"I'll stay with them," volunteered Nat. "I've had my share of good shots lately. Let Will have a show. You and he go ahead, Jack."
Jack did not want to leave Nat, but his chum insisted that some one had to stay with the animals, and he wanted to do it. So Will and Jack started off alone to trail the deer.
They went on about a mile, the trail becoming fresher at every step, until Will, who was close behind Jack, gently touched his companion on the arm and pointed to the left.
There, framed in a little opening of the trees, pawing the snow off the grass in a little glade, stood a noble buck mule deer, the largest Jack had ever seen. The animal had not heard nor scented them.
"Take the shot, Will," urged Jack. "You may never get another like that."
"No, I'd rather you would."
"Nonsense. I've shot several of 'em. You take it."
"I'd rather you would."
"Go on," urged Jack in a whisper. "Wait, though, we'll move forward a bit, and you work off to the left. You'll get a better shot then. The wind's just right."
They went forward a few feet cautiously, until they stood just on the edge of the clearing. Then Will, stepping a few paces to the left, raised his rifle. No sooner had he done so than, to his surprise and regret, his arms began to shake violently. He had a severe touch of "buck fever."
"I--I can't do it. I'm too nervous," he said in a whisper to Jack.
"Nonsense. Wait a minute and aim again. You'll be all right in a second. Take a long breath and count five."
Will did as directed, but it was no use. The muzzle of his rifle wobbled more than ever when he tried to aim.
"I--I can't," he whispered again. "You shoot, Jack."
Then, realizing that Will was too nervous to do it, and not wanting to see the buck escape, as they needed fresh meat in camp, Jack took aim and pulled the trigger.
At the instant the report rang out, the buck raised his head, wheeled around, and catching sight of Jack standing on the edge of the clearing, came at him almost as fast as an express train. He had been only slightly wounded, and, full of rage, he had only one desire--to annihilate the person responsible for the stinging pain he felt.
Jack saw him coming, and threw down the lever of his rifle to pump another cartridge into the chamber. But, to his horror, the lever refused to work. It had become jammed in some way, and the exploded shell could not be ejected. He pulled and tugged at it, the buck coming nearer by leaps and bounds.
"Jump--jump!" Jack heard Will cry, and realizing that he could not get in another shot, he leaped to one side, hoping to get out of the way of the infuriated animal.
But his foot caught in the entangled branch of a bush, and he fell backward, full length, right in the path of the advancing buck, that was snorting with rage.
Jack tried to roll over, but the bush held him fast. He felt that it was all up with him, and he closed his eyes, expecting the next instant to feel the buck leap on him, to pierce him with its keen hoofs.
Jack could hear the thundering approach of the big creature, and he could feel the tremor of the ground as the brute came nearer. He fancied he could see the big bulk in the air over him.
Then there sounded a sharp crack, followed by a thud, and the black shape seemed to pass to one side. There was a shock as a big body hit the ground, a great crashing among the bushes, and Jack opened his eyes to see the buck lying dead a few feet away from him.
Then he saw something else. It was Will, running toward him, a smoking rifle in his hands.
"Are you--are you all right?" asked Will, his voice trembling.
"Yes," said Jack, hardly able to speak, because of the reaction of the shock through which he had just passed. "I'm all right. Did you shoot the buck?"
"I--I guess so," replied Will with a nervous laugh. "I aimed my rifle at him and pulled the trigger, anyhow."
Jack went over to the big body, that had not ceased quivering.
"Right through the heart," he said, as he saw where the bullet had gone in. "Bill, you saved my life!"