the game would bound away with the speed of the wind the
instant he scented danger, the lad brought up his rifle and pointed at
him.

Poor Nick shook as if he had a chill; it was impossible to control his
nerves; but, aiming as best he could, he fired. The deer was "hit hard,"
though not so hard as young Ribsam meant and most ardently desired.

Dropping the breech of his gun, Nick looked to see the result of his
shot, and found it amazing to a startling degree.

The buck, which was a noble fellow, stopped browsing, and, with his head
thrown high in air, looked around to learn where his assailant was.
Catching sight of the staring lad, the animal emitted a furious sniff
and charged upon him at full speed.

This is a most unusual thing for a deer to do, though many a hunter has
been killed by a wounded buck or moose, who has turned upon and attacked
him with the fury of a tiger.

[Illustration: "He turned on his heel and ran with might and main for
the fallen tree."]

Nick Ribsam thought it very singular, but he thought it very alarming
as well, and, without waiting to watch matters further, he turned on his
heel and ran with might and main for the fallen tree.

The lusty youngster was a good runner, but the buck made three times as
much speed as he "went for him," with head lowered like a charging bull.

Nick had to think fast, but fast as he thought he couldn't see how the
fallen oak was to offer him refuge against the fury of the animal, and,
unless it did so, he was in a bad predicament.

It was impossible to reach any tree in time to climb out of reach, as
Nellie did when pursued by the bear, and the highest portion of the
prostrate trunk would not protect him from the antlers of the savage
buck.

There was no use for the empty rifle as it seemed, and Nick was on the
point of throwing it away, when it occurred to him that it might still
serve as a weapon of defense.

"I will club it and see what can be done."

CHAPTER XXIV.

HUNTED BY A BUCK.

Glancing over his shoulder, Nick Ribsam kept informed of the movements
of his fierce foe, who was certainly carrying things with a hurricane
rush.

Finding there was no getting away from him, Nick, just as he reached the
fallen tree, whirled around and, grasping his rifle by the barrel, swung
the stock back over his shoulder and poised himself for the blow, which
he believed must decide his own fate.

The boy made a formidable-looking picture; but i