athered his two front ones close together and brought them down
with such force that, had they fallen on the body of the lad, as was
intended, they would have cut into him like the edge of a powerfully
driven ax.

As it was, the shielding tree trunk prevented it, and, grazing the bark,
they were driven into the yielding earth half a foot deep.

The buck immediately reared and repeated the terrible blow several
times, missing the body of the lad by what may be called a hair's
breadth.

The animal was in a fury, and, believing his foe was at his mercy, he
showed him none.

Nick heard the first thump of the sharp hoofs as they cut their way into
the earth, and then his head seemed to spin, as though he had been
whirled around with inconceivable velocity; innumerable stars danced
before his eyes, he felt as if shooting through space, and then
consciousness left him.

The buck could know nothing of this, and, had he known it, his actions
would not have been affected. He continued his rearing and plunging
until he saw he was inflicting no injury. Then he stopped, backed off
several paces, and, lowering his head, tried to dislodge the lad from
his place of refuge.

But the breadth of his antlers prevented success, which would have
placed Nick just where he could finish him. The oak barred his progress,
stopping the head and horns when they were almost against the body.

Then the buck reared and struck again, trying all manner of maneuvers
which his instinct suggested, but providentially none of them succeeded.

All this time Nick Ribsam, who had been so badly bruised, was oblivious
of the efforts against his life. Had he possessed his faculties, he
could not have done anything more for his protection than he did, by
lying motionless, extended along and below the trunk of the oak.

But the lusty, rugged nature of the lad soon asserted itself, and he
began rallying from the shock. A reaction gradually set in, and slowly
his senses returned.

It was a considerable time, however, before he realized where he was
and what had befallen him. His head was still ringing, as though the
clangor of a hundred anvils were sounding in his ears, and, when he drew
a deep breath, a pain, as if made by a knife, was in his side.

He listened, but heard nothing of his enemy. Then, with a great labor
and more suffering, he pushed himself a few inches backward, so as to
give some freedom to his body and to enable him to move his head.