However, on rising, he had the satisfaction of seeing his late antagonist lying quite dead, the ball having entered her heart, and the effort which overthrew her enemy being the last of life. There was a slight drawback to this self-gratulation in the fact, that his horse had taken advantage of the moment of liberty to dart after a detachment of the great herd which had thundered by, and could now be distinguished afar off, the flapping of Jock’s Mackinaw-blanket, which had been tied about the steed’s neck, and served the rider in place of a saddle, every instant accelerating his speed. When he came to look about, nevertheless, his face expanded into a grin of delight, for the calf had stopped short when the dam was slain, and now returned, stamping his feet and eyeing the sable hunter with some signs of anger, and certainly very few of fear. Jock from the first moment had coveted the calf, and now, in his charming ignorance, thought nothing easier than to catch it by the ears and drag it into the ravine, where he could secure it alive with a cord. With this design he marched directly up to his proposed prisoner, who stood his ground by the side of the carcase, his small, red eyes watching the enemy from under his shaggy brows; but the instant Jock stretched out his hands to clutch him, the undaunted little brute plunged forward and gave the former a thump in the stomach, which knocked the breath fairly out of his body, and laid him flat on his back in the grass. Greatly indignant, the discomfited aggressor scrambled up and began a search for his pistol, which in the fall from his horse he had lost possession of, but before he could recover it, the calf, emboldened by success, made a second attack on him, and taking Jock at a disadvantage in that portion of his body which is most prominent in stooping over, cleverly caused him to perform an involuntary somerset. This was the last of Jock’s adventure, for as soon as he could recover his perpendicular, he took to his heels, and now related his ill-luck with a crest-fallen air enough. We all went to see this sturdy calf, but the little fellow had no sooner caught sight of our white (or what passed for white) faces, than he scampered off, and we saw no more of him. Jock profited by this retreat to find his pistol, but when we returned to the ravine, we discovered a worse misadventure had occurred; the pack-horse had broken loose, and gone off at full speed, to judge from the numerous cups, pans, and a dozen other miscellaneous articles scattered for some yards along his track until he got clear of the bushes. If he chanced to cross the path of the wolves we started up earlier in the day, I am sorry for him. * * * * * LINES. BY GEO. D. PRENTISS.