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.