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killed。 Every buck is crazy now。 Often they attack man。 My
father's brother was killed by a Mad Moon buck。 They found only
his body； torn to rags。 He had got a little way up a tree； but
the buck had pinned him。 There were the marks； and in the snow
they could see how he held on to the deer's horns and was dragged
about till his strength gave out。 He had no gun。 The buck went
off。 That was all they knew。 I would rather trust a bear than a
deer。〃
The Indian's words were few； but they drew a picture all too
realistic。 The next time Rolf heard the far sound of a deer
fight； it brought back the horror of that hopeless fight in the
snow； and gave him a new and different feel… ing for the
antler…bearer of the changing mood。
It was two weeks after this； when he was coming in from a trip
alone on part of the line； when his ear caught some strange
sounds in the woods ahead； deep； sonorous； semi…human they were。
Strange and weird wood…notes in winter are nearly sure to be
those of a raven or a jay； if deep； they are likely to come from
a raven。
〃Quok； quok； ha； ha； ha…hreww； hrrr； hooop； hooop；〃 the diabolic
noises came； and Rolf； coming gently forward； caught a glimpse of
sable pinions swooping through the lower pines。
〃Ho； ho； ho yah … hew … w … w … w〃 came the demon laughter of the
death birds； and Rolf soon glimpsed a dozen of them in the
branches； hopping or sometimes flying to the ground。 One
alighted on a brown bump。 Then the bump began to move a little。
The raven was pecking away； but again the brown bump heaved and
the raven leaped to a near perch。 〃Wah wah wah … wo … hoo
yow … wow rrrrrr…rrrr…rrrr〃 and the other ravens joined
in。
Rolf had no weapons but his bow； his pocket knife； and a hatchet。
He took the latter in his hand and walked gently forward； the
hollow…voiced ravens 〃haw … hawed；〃 then flew to safe perches
where they chuckled like ghouls over some extra…ghoulish joke。
The lad； coming closer； witnessed a scene that stirred him with
mingled horror and pity。 A great； strong buck once strong； at
least was standing； staggering； kneeling there； sometimes on
his hind legs； spasmodically heaving and tugging at a long gray
form on the ground； the body of another buck； his rival； dead
now； with a broken neck； as it proved； but bearing big； strong
antlers with which the antlers of the living buck were
interlocked as though riveted with iron； bolted with clamps of
steel。 With all his strength； the living buck could barely move
his head； dragging his adversary's body with him。 The snow marks
showed that at first he had been able to haul the carcass many
yards； had nibbled a little at shoots and twigs； but that was
when he was stronger； was long before。 How long？ For days； at
least； perhaps a week； that wretched buck was dying hopelessly a
death that would not come。 His gaunt sides； his parched and
lolling tongue； less than a foot from the snow and yet beyond
reach； the filmy eye； whose opaque veil of death was illumined
again with a faint fire of fighting green as the new foe came。
The ravens had picked the eyes out of the dead buck and eaten a
hole in its back。 They had even begun on the living buck； but he
had been able to use one front foot to defend his eyes； still his
plight could scarce have been more dreadful。 It made the most
pitiful spectacle Rolf had ever seen in wild life； yes； in all
his life。 He was full of compassion for the poor brute。 He
forgot it as a thing to be hunted for food； thought of it only as
a harmless； beautiful creature in dire and horrible straits； a
fellow…being in distress； and he at once set about being its
helper。 With hatchet in hand he came gently in front； and
selecting an exposed part at the base of the dead buck's antler
he gave a sharp blow with the hatchet。 The effect on the living
buck was surprising。 He was roused to vigorous action that
showed him far from death as yet。 He plunged； then pulled
backward； carrying with him the carcass and the would…be rescuer。
Then Rolf remembered the Indian's words： 〃You can make strong
medicine with your mouth。〃 He spoke to the deer； gently； softly。
Then came nearer； and tapped o'n the horn he wished to cut；
softly speaking and tapping he increased his force； until at last
he was permitted to chop seriously at that prison bar。 It took
many blows； for the antler stuff is very thick and strong at this
time； but the horn was loose at last。 Rolf gave it a twist and
the strong buck was free。 Free for what？
Oh； tell it not among the folk who have been the wild deer's
friend！ Hide it from all who blindly believe that gratitude must
always follow good…will！ With unexpected energy； with pent…up
fury； with hellish purpose； the ingrate sprang on his deliverer；
aiming a blow as deadly as was in his power。
Wholly taken by surprise； Rolf barely had time to seize the
murderer's horns and ward them off his vitals。 The buck made a
furious lunge。 Oh！ what foul fiend was it gave him then such
force？ and Rolf went down。 Clinging for dear life to those
wicked； shameful horns； he yelled as he never yelled before：
〃Quonab； Quonabi help me； oh； help me！〃 But he was pinned at
once； the fierce brute above him pressing on his chest； striving
to bring its horns to bear； his only salvation had been that
their wide spread gave his body room between。 But the weight on
his chest was crushing out his force； his life； he had no breath
to call again。 How the ravens chuckled； and 〃haw…hawed〃 in the
tree！
The buck's eyes gleamed again with the emerald light of murderous
hate； and he jerked his strong neck this way and that with the
power of madness。 It could not last for long。 The boy's
strength was going fast； the beast was crushing in his chest。
〃Oh； God； help me！〃 he gasped； as the antlered fiend began again
struggling for the freedom of those murderous horns。 The brute
was almost free； when the ravens rose with loud croaks； and out
of the woods dashed another to join the fight。 A smaller deer？
No； what？ Rolf knew not； nor how； but in a moment there was a
savage growl and Skookum had the murderer by the hind leg。
Worrying and tearing he had not the strength to throw the deer；
but his teeth were sharp； his heart was in his work； and when he
transferred his fierce attack to parts more tender still； the
buck； already spent； reared； wheeled； and fell。 Before he could
recover Skookum pounced upon him by the nose and hung on like a
vice。 The buck could swing his great neck a little； and drag the
dog； but he could not shake him off。 Rolf saw the chance； rose
to his tottering legs； seized his hatchet； stunned the fierce
brute with a blow。 Then finding on the snow his missing knife he
gave the hunter stroke that spilled the red life…blood and sank
on the ground to know no more till Quonab stood beside him。
Chapter 33。 A Song of Praise
ROLF was lying by a fi