They could hear Bowser baying at no great distance, and, consequently,
were sure that Herbert himself was not far off.
"If we three come upon him we ought to be able to kill him without much
risk to ourselves--that is, if we use any sort of care in taking aim."
"We must try and do that--hark!"
At that instant they were startled by the sharp report of a rifle, the
distance and direction leaving no doubt that it was fired by Herbert
Watrous.
Sam and Nick fairly turned pale, and something like a feeling of envy
came over them at the belief that Herbert, after all his boasting, had
succeeded in bringing down the royal game without their help.
The shot was fired so close that, as they hastened forward again, they
expected to come upon the hunter and his game every minute.
"Hallo! what does that mean?"
The question was caused by the sudden appearance of Bowser, who was
limping toward them in a panic of terror. At every leap he uttered a
yelp, which was of pain and fear.
The boys stopped, and the hound, running up, crouched down at their
feet, whining and moaning.
"He is hurt!" said Sam, who noticed that he was bleeding from a wound in
the shoulder, where the claws of some animal had struck him with great
force.
"It was done by the bear," said Nick, "and he hit Bowser a hard blow; I
shouldn't wonder if it kills him."
Sam stooped over the dog and tried to soothe him by patting and speaking
kind words.
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