Quite sure, though, that he had inflicted a mortal hurt, Jud was afraid the stag would reach land and get too far away to be overtaken before night. He shoved the dugout into the water, threw his gun in, followed it himself, caught up the paddle and worked with might and main to overtake the game.
Swiftly as a stag can swim, he is no match for a man in a dugout. Jud gained fast, and, before the middle of the stream was reached, he was abreast of the deer, but a dozen yards or so above. He curved down toward him, and had passed half the intervening distance, when the fugitive wheeled about, or headed toward the shore he had left a few minutes before.
His protruding eyes, and the whiffing snort which sent a fine spray from his nostrils, proved that he saw his peril and was desperately swimming away from it.
Now was the time for another shot. Jud hastily pulled the lever to throw out the old shell and push a new cartridge into place; but every one knows the “obduracy of inanimate things” at such times. Something got out of order, and, with an impatient exclamation, he lowered his piece to adjust it.
Before he could do so, the angry snort that he had heard before sounded so close at his elbow that he looked around. That which he saw was startling indeed. The stag was plowing like a steam-tug through the water and coming straight for the boat. His fierce front left no doubt of his earnestness, and Jud Jarvis awoke to the fact that while he was hunting the stag, the stag had turned about to hunt him.
The movement was so unexpected that the usually clear-headed youth was thrown into a panic. His gun could not be fired until the hitch was removed, and believing he had no time to do that, he plunged overboard.
In that trying moment, Jud could not forget the valuable rifle in his hand. He meant to hold fast to that, come what might. He was a strong swimmer, and he went down until one foot touched the pebbly bottom. Immediately he gave a light spring, which sent him upward like a cork. Flirting the water from his eyes he looked about him.
The dugout almost touched his nose, so that for the moment he saw nothing of the stag. If the latter had struck the craft with his antlers he had failed to overturn it.