Twice Mitchell hissed for his employer to come down;
but that worthy was safe astride the highest branch that would bear
his weight, with no desire evidently for a better view of the fight.
Then Mitchell found the rifle among the bushes and, waiting till the
bulls backed away for one of their furious charges, killed the larger
one in his tracks. The second stood startled an instant, with raised
head and muscles quivering, then dashed away across the barren and
into the forest.
Such encounters are often numbered among the tragedies of the great
wilderness. In tramping through the forest one sometimes comes upon
two sets of huge antlers locked firmly together, and white bones,
picked clean by hungry prowlers. It needs no written record to tell
their story.
Once I saw a duel that resulted differently. I heard a terrific
uproar, and crept through the woods, thinking to have a savage
wilderness spectacle all to myself. Two young bulls were fighting
desperately in an open glade, just because they were strong and proud
of their first big horns.
But I was not alone, as I expected. A great flock of crossbills
swooped down into the spruces, and stopped whistling in their
astonishment. A dozen red squirrels snickered and barked their
approval, as the bulls butted each other.
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