It is the
nature of these animals to hold their resentment so long as the object
of their vengeance is in sight. Only when that is hidden from them, do
they seem to _forget_--for it is probable they never _forgive_.

The bull showed no signs of leaving the ground. On the contrary, he
paced backward and forward, grunting as fiercely as ever, and at
intervals making a rush towards the entrance as if he still had hopes of
reaching his victim.

Caspar now regarded these demonstrations with indifference, he was far
more concerned about his limb; and as soon as he could turn himself into
a proper position, he began to examine it.

He felt the bone carefully from the knee downward. He knew the thigh
was safe enough. It was his ankle-joint, he feared, was broken. The
ankle was already swollen and black--badly swollen, but Caspar could
detect no evidence of a fracture of the bones.

"After all," soliloquised he, "it may be only sprained. If so, it will
be all right yet."

He continued to examine it, until he at length arrived at the conviction
that it was "only a sprain."

This brought him into good spirits again, though the leg was very
painful; but Caspar was a boy who could bear pain very stoically.

He now began to ponder upon his situation. How was he to be rescued
from his fierce besieger? Would Karl and Ossaroo hear him if he were to
shout? That was doubtful enough. He could not be much less than a mile
from them; and there were woods and rough ground between him and them.
They might be chopping, too, and would not hear his calls. Still, they
would not always be chopping, and he could keep up a constant shouting
till they did hear him. He had already noticed that in the valley, shut
in on all sides as it was by cliffs, sounds were transmitted to a great
distance--in fact, the cliffs seem to act as conductors somewhat after
the manner of a whispering-gallery. No doubt, then, Karl and Ossaroo
would hear him--especially if he gave one of his shrill whistles; for
Caspar knew how to whistle very loudly, and he had often made the
Bavarian hills ring again.

He was about to make the Himalayas ring, and had already placed his
fingers to his lips, when the thought occurred to him that it would be
wrong to do so.

"No," said he, after reflecting a moment, "I shall not call them. My
whistle would bring Karl, I know. He would come running at the signal.
I might not be able to stop him till he had got quite u