men who were out of breath after
running half an hour. Hatteras and his companions stopped.

"The Devil!" said Altamont.

"That's just the word," said the doctor, as soon as he could take
breath. "I'll grant they are Americans, and they can't have a very
good idea of your countrymen."

"That proves we are good hunters," answered Altamont.

Still, the musk-oxen, seeing they were not pursued, stopped in a
posture of surprise. It became evident that they could never be run
down; they would have to be surrounded; the plateau on which they were
aided this manoeuvre. The hunters, leaving Duke to harass them,
descended through the neighboring ravines, so as to get around the
plateau. Altamont and the doctor hid behind a rock at one end, while
Hatteras, suddenly advancing from the other end, should drive the oxen
towards them. In half an hour each had gained his post.

"You don't object any longer to our shooting?" asked Altamont.

"No, it's fair fighting," answered the doctor, who, in spite of
gentleness, was a real sportsman.

They were talking in this way, when they saw the oxen running, and
Duke at their heels; farther on Hatteras was driving them, with loud
cries, towards the American and the doctor, who ran to meet this
magnificent prey.

[Illustration]

At once the oxen stopped, and, less fearful of a single enemy, they
turned upon Hatteras. He awaited them calmly, aimed at the nearest,
and fired; but the bullet struck the animal in the middle of his
forehead, without penetrating the skull. Hatteras's second shot
produced no other effect than to make the beasts furious; they ran to
the disarmed hunter, and threw him down at once.

"He is lost," cried the doctor.

At the moment Clawbonny pronounced these words with an accent of
despair, Altamont made a step forward to run to Hatteras's aid; then
he stopped, struggling against himself and his prejudices.

"No," he cried, "that would be cowardice."

He hastened with Clawbonny to the scene of combat. His hesitation had
not lasted half a second. But if the doctor saw what was taking place
in the American's heart, Hatteras understood it, who would rather have
died than have implored his rival's interference. Still, he had hardly
time to perceive it, for Altamont appeared before him. Hatteras, lying
on the ground, was trying to ward off the horns and hoofs of the two
animals. But he could not long continue so unequal a struggle. He was
about to be torn in piec