You may be sure that I was glad to hear the old frontiersman talk in this way. He had not seen the camel, but he had seen some scientific men who had seen him, and he was glad to accept what they had to say in regard to the Red Ghost. I, for one, resolved that I would never let it get away, if I once got a shot at it.
The evening was passed in much the same way, with talks on various subjects, and it was a late hour when we sought our blankets. We all slept soundly, all except Tom, who awoke about midnight, and, to save his life, could not go to sleep again. He rolled and tossed on his blankets, and then, for fear that he might awaken some of us, concluded that he would go out and look at the weather. He pulled on his moccasons, opened the door, and went out, but on the threshold he stopped, for every drop of blood in him seemed to rush back upon his heart, leaving his face as pale as death itself. He was not frightened, but there, within less than twenty-five yards of him, stood the Red Ghost. He stood with his head forward, as if he were listening to some sounds that came to him from the horses' quarters, which, you will remember, were in the scrub-oaks behind the cabin. It was no wonder that Tom was excited, for there it was as plain as daylight. It looked as big as three or four horses.
"By George! I wish it would stay there just a minute longer. If I make out to get my rifle----"
With a step that would not have awakened a cricket, Tom stepped back into the cabin and laid hold of the first rifle he came to. It was not his own; it was Uncle Ezra's Henry--a rifle that would shoot sixteen times without being reloaded. With this in his hands he walked quietly back, and there stood the object just as he had left it. It did not seem to hear Tom at all. Fearful of being seen, Tom raised his gun with a very slow and steady aim, and covered the spot just where he thought the heart ought to be. One second he stood thus, but it was long enough for Tom, who pressed the trigger.
"There!" said Tom, drawing a long breath. "If I didn't make a good shot that time I never did. Hold on! It is coming right for me!"
The animal was fatally hurt, and the long bounds it made, and the shrill screams it uttered, would have taxed Tom's nerves, if he had had any. To throw out the empty shell and insert another one was slowly and deliberately done, and the second ball struck it in the breast, when Tom thought that another bound would land it squarely on the top of him. That settled it. It stayed right there, and all he could see of the Red Ghost was the twigs and leaves which it threw up during its struggles. In the meantime there was a terrific commotion in the cabin, and his three friends came rushing out to see what was the matter.