The savage yelp of the hounds close behind rang clear, sharp and
piercing as they reared the summit. The panting, trembling fawn glanced
despairingly behind, looked again into the Boy's eyes, and as the first
dog leaped the hill crest made his choice. Staggering and panting with
terror, he dropped on his knees by the Boy's side, the bloodshot eyes
begging piteously for help.
The Boy dropped his gun and gathered the trembling thing in his arms. In
a moment the hounds were on him leaping and tearing at the fawn. He
kicked them right and left and yelled with all his might:
"Down, I tell you! Down or I'll kill you!"
The hounds continued to leap and snap in spite of his kicks and cries
until Boney saw the struggle, and stepped between his master and his
tormenters. One low growl and not another hound came near.
When Dennis arrived panting for breath he couldn't believe his eyes. The
Boy was holding the exhausted fawn in his lap with a glazed look in his
eyes.
"Well, of all the dam-fool things I ever see sence God made me, this
takes the cake!" he cried in disgust. "Why didn't ye shoot him?"
"Because he ran to me for help--how could I shoot him?"
Dennis sat down and roared:
"Well, of all the deer huntin', this beats me!"
The Boy rose, still holding the fawn in his arms.
"You can take the gun and go on.
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