that on the other occasion his
chum had finally managed to gain the victory through his own gun, and
Bluff suddenly came to a knowledge of the fact that he did have a gun
gripped in his hand, and which also contained five more shots.

"Hold on! Give me a breathing spell, hang you! I'll fix you yet!" he
managed to exclaim, though he would better have husbanded his breath to
better purpose.

The elk was not a bit accommodating. Perhaps the animal understood that
so long as it kept Bluff in rapid motion the human enemy could not find
a chance to use that fire-stick again, that shot out such burning
missiles. At any rate, it persevered, and poor Bluff's tongue fairly
hung out with fatigue.

In desperation, he was about to turn around, trusting to luck to get in
a shot that would put an end to this awful chase in a circle, when the
elk tripped and fell.

"Now!" gasped Bluff.

You would have thought he must have leveled his gun and fired. Jerry
or Frank would, in all probability, have done that very thing. But
Bluff seemed to go back to the first law of Nature, which is
self-preservation.

He dropped his gun, and seizing a limb that happened to be within reach,
climbed into the tree with the agility of a monkey. Fear spurred him on
to do his best work just then.

"Don't you wish you could?" he shouted derisively down at the elk, which
was jumping up, and making all manner of threatening movements with its
antlered head, much after the fashion of an enraged goat, Bluff thought.

He was safe enough, but somehow Bluff did not like the idea of having to
wait in the tree until his chums, drawn by his calls, came to the
rescue. Why, he would never hear the end of the thing! It was too
horrible to contemplate, and in some fashion he must secure possession
of his gun to end the career of that pugnacious old bull elk.

[Illustration: "DON'T YOU WISH YOU COULD?" HE SHOUTED DERISIVELY DOWN AT
THE ELK.--_Page 98_.
_The Outdoor Chums After Big Game_.]

Bluff had read more or less about the strange adventures that befall
hunters of big game. He also remembered how one man had fished for his
gun, and successfully, under similar conditions.

Having no cord in his pocket, he deliberately tore his handkerchief into
strips and knotted them together. When this failed to reach the ground,
he fastened it to the end of a long and stout "sucker," or sprout, which
he cut from the body of the tree.

A running loop was made at the