Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Shawnee Indians -- Juvenile fiction
“I’m satisfied,” returned his brother; “but you must remember and not
let your impatience run away with you. Keep cool or we shall have to go
without supper.”
“Don’t fear for me,” remarked the ardent Victor, who slipped out of the
saddle and set off without delay; “I know what’s at stake.”
Had he gone directly toward the antelopes they would have been off on
the instant. Instead, he went back over the ridge just crossed, thus
interposing that screen between him and the animals. By following this
he could approach within a fourth of a mile of the game, and from that
moment the utmost caution and skill would be necessary. His brother and
the Blackfoot withdrew so as to occupy a position on the crest of the
elevation, where they could observe the actions of Victor from the
beginning and at the same time keep an eye upon the antelopes
themselves.
The latter fixed their attention upon the point where the horsemen had
first come into view, hesitating whether to break away in swift flight
or to wait until they could gratify their resistless curiosity. George
Shelton and Mul-tal-la had dismounted, and lying down in the grass, took
care not to show themselves, through fear of alarming the game, for, if
the antelopes should make off, slight chance of securing a meal would
remain.
Meanwhile Victor was stealing along the ridge until, as he judged, he
had reached a point nearly opposite the animals, who were a furlong
distant. Then he crept up the elevation, whose crest fortunately was
crowned with the same exuberant growth of grass that grew in the valley
beyond.
So painstaking was he that his friends lost sight of him and did not
know when he was at the crest of the elevation until the antelopes
showed by their excitement that they had detected him. They had resumed
cropping the grass, when all three abruptly raised their heads and
dashed off at the height of their astonishing speed. A moment later
Victor was seen running down the slope until a little beyond the base,
when he dropped on his face.
Immediately after, while his body was screened from sight, he raised the
ramrod of his rifle, with his cap on the upper end. The lower point was
pushed down into the earth so that unaided it supported the headgear. He
had improved on the method of the Blackfoot.
At first it looked as if this artifice had come too late, for the
antelopes continued running. When first seen they were in a valley-like
depression with a width of a third of a mile. They made a pretty picture
as they skimmed up the opposite slope with their bodies showing in
relief against the green background.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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