e could follow the
trail.

It proved a long and difficult one, but as he worked along it,
smashing through thickets and crawling over fallen trees, the red
sprinkle still showed among the leaves, and it did not seem possible
that the deer could go very far. Still, by this time the light was
growing dim, and he pressed on savagely with the perspiration dripping
from him in an agony of suspense. Even his weariness was forgotten,
though he reeled now and then.

At length, when he reached the head of a slope, there was a crackling
amidst the underbrush, and once more a half-seen shape rose out of it.
The rifle went to his shoulder, and, though he had scarcely expected
the shot to be successful, the object in front of him collapsed amidst
the fern. He could no longer see it, but, whipping out the big knife
that he carried in his belt, he ran toward the spot where it had
appeared. The ground seemed to be falling sharply, and he recognized
that there was a declivity not far away.

The deer rose once more, and, though only a yard or two away, he could
scarcely see it. His eyes seemed clouded, and he was gasping heavily.
Whether he dropped the rifle with intent or stumbled and let it slip
he never knew, but in another moment he had flung himself upon the
deer with the long knife in his hand. Then his feet slipped, and he
and the beast rolled down a slope together. The blade he gripped
struck soil and stones, but at length he knew that it had gone in to
the hilt in yielding flesh, and with a tense effort he buried it
again. After that he staggered clear, half-dazed, but exultant, with a
broad crimson stain on the rags he wore. The beast's limbs and body
quivered once or twice, and then it lay very still.

Weston took out his pipe and lay down with his back against a tree,
for all the power seemed to have gone out of him, and he did not seem
able to think of anything. The pipe was empty before it dawned on him
that his comrade was famishing, and there was still a task in hand. He
set about it, and, though it was far from heavy, he had some
difficulty in getting the dressed deer upon his shoulders. How he
reached camp with it he never knew, but he fell down several times
before he did so, and the soft darkness had crept up from the valley
when he staggered into the flickering glow of a fire. His face was
drawn and gray, and there was blood and soil on his tattered clothing.
He dropped the deer, and collapsed beside the fire.