resses stood out from its flanks,
enclosing angular spaces between them, any of which would have made a
stall for a horse. It was just the sort of place which the serow was
looking out for; and making a sharp rush for the tree, he entered one of
these divisions, and wheeling around, buttocks to the stump, stood
firmly to bay.

This sudden manoeuvre evidently disconcerted his fierce pursuers. There
were many of them that knew the serow well, and trembled at the sight of
his horns when brought too close to them. They knew his tactics too,
and were well aware that once in a position, like that he had now taken
up, he became a dangerous customer to deal with.

Knowing this, most of the old dogs held back. But there were several
young ones in the pack, rash, hot-blooded fellows, who, vain of their
prowess, were ashamed to hang their tails at this crisis; and these,
without more ado, rushed in upon the antelope. Then ensued a scene that
caused Ossaroo to clap his hands and shake his sides with laughter. A
desperate struggle was carried on. Right and left pitched the wild
dogs, some yelping, some skulking back, crippled and limping; while one
or two soon lay stretched out dead; transfixed as they had been by the
pointed horns of the antelope. Ossaroo enjoyed this scene, for the
shikarree had a great dislike to these wild dogs, as they had often
interfered with his stalking.

How the battle would have ended, or whether the bold buck would have
beaten off his numerous enemies will never be known; for while the
contest was raging, the great boar-hound, Fritz, contrived somehow or
other to slip his fastening, and the next moment he was seen rushing
like a streak of fire towards the _melee_. The wild dogs were as much
terrified by his sudden appearance in their midst as the quarry itself
could have been, and, without staying to examine the interloper, one and
all of them took to their heels, and soon disappeared behind the trees.

Fritz had never seen a serow before, but taking it for granted it was
fair game, he sprang at the creature on sight. Better for Fritz had it
been a Saxon boar, for it cost him several sharp rips, and a long
struggle before he became master of the field; and it is doubtful
whether he would not have suffered still worse, had not a pea of lead
from the rifle of his master aided in bringing the strife to an end.

The game, but for its hide, was hardly worth faking home; as the flesh
of the sero