104 Hunting the Grisly 



off with his head down. He was quartering 

 to me, and I fired into his flank, the bullet, as 

 I afterward found, ranging forward and 

 piercing one lung. At the shot he uttered a 

 loud, moaning grunt and plunged forward at 

 a heavy gallop, while I raced obliquely down 

 the hill to cut him off. After going a few 

 hundred feet he reached a laurel thicket, some 

 thirty yards broad, and two or three times as 

 long, which he did not leave. I ran up to the 

 edge and there halted, not liking to venture 

 into the mass of twisted, close-growing stems 

 and glossy foliage. Moreover, as I halted, I 

 heard him utter a peculiar, savage kind of 

 whine from the heart of the brush. Accord- 

 ingly, I began to skirt the edge, standing on 

 tiptoe and gazing earnestly to see if I could 

 not catch a glimpse of his hide. When I was 

 at the narrowest part of the thicket, he sud- 

 denly left it directly opposite, and then 

 wheeled and stood broadside to me on the 

 hillside, a little above. He turned his head 

 stiffly toward me; scarlet strings of froth 

 hung from his lips; his eyes burned like em- 

 bers in the gloom. 



I held true, aiming behind the shoulder, 

 and my bullet shattered the point or lower 

 end of his heart, taking out a big nick. In- 



