Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Shawnee Indians -- Juvenile fiction
Without shifting his posture, he raised his thumb from the trigger
guard, so that it passed over the hammer, and then pulled it back as far
as it would go. It was at full cock, but in reaching that point it
emitted a single click.
Faint as was the sound, it was heard by the two antelopes fully fifty
yards away, and they whirled to dash off. At the instant that their
sides were toward him, Victor discharged his gun and sent the bullet
straight and true. One antelope kept on running, his head flung back,
while he sped across the valley like a swallow on the wing. The one that
had been smitten flirted back again and then came on a full run straight
for the spot in the grass from which the fatal missile had been fired,
as if determined to slay his foe before his own strength failed him.
“Great Cæsar!” exclaimed the scared Victor; “I didn’t know an antelope
was that sort of beast. I’ve got to get out of here mighty quick!”
There was no time to reload his weapon. Never did he leap to his feet
and make off at greater speed than when he saw the antelope bearing down
upon him, and it may be added that never did he run so fast as in going
up the slope and down the other side, and then in a line for his
companions.
At such critical moments a boy does not consider his duty done unless he
does all he can in the way of yelling. The shouts that Victor Shelton
sent resounding over the surrounding country must have reached several
miles. He did not look behind him, for that would have interfered to a
fractional extent with his speed, but ran with might and main, marking
each leap by a tremendous outcry.
He expected with every breath to feel the antelope’s razor-like hoofs
carve their way downward into his shoulders. That several minutes passed
without such carving he accepted as proof that he was making as good
time as his furious pursuer. If this was gratifying it was also
surprising, for Victor had never been noted for his fleetness of foot,
and he knew something of the fleetness of the antelope. He concluded
that there was no telling what a boy of his age can accomplish in the
way of running until the actual necessity for it arises.
All this time Victor did not forget to yell. But after awhile the
expenditure of so much breath began to affect his strength. So he closed
his mouth and gave his whole attention to getting over the ground in the
best possible time.
Because of this cessation of his outcries he became aware that his
brother was also shouting. Listening carefully, Victor was finally able
to catch his words:
“What are you running for?”
“That’s a pretty question!” he reflected, “when he can see for himself
that the antelope is determined to have my life!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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