JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT. 189 



he had inadvertently loosened his grasp on it. 

 Be this as it may, Martin's mouth was at last 

 opened, and out of it were projected some of the 

 most extraordinary expressions I ever heard. His 

 sentences were singularly detached. Even his words 

 were widely separated, but brought out with great 

 emphasis. He averaged about one word to a jump. 

 If another got partially out, it was suddenly and 

 ruthlessly snapped off in mid utterance. The 

 result of his efforts to express himself reached my 

 ears very much in this shape : " Jump — will — 

 you — be-e — damned — I 've-e — got — you ! I '11 

 — hold-d — ON — till — your — ta-i-1 — comes — 

 off-f. — Ju7n23-p-23 — be d-d-damned — I 've — 

 got — you-u-u." 



When the contest would have ended, what 

 would have been the result had it continued, 

 whether the buck or the guide would have come 

 off the winner, it is not easy to say. Nor is it 

 necessary to speculate, for the close was speedily 

 reached, and in an unlooked-for manner. The deer 

 had led off some dozen jumps out of the circle of 

 light, and I was beginning to think that he had 

 shaken himself loose from his enemy, when all at 

 once he emerged from the fog with Martin still 

 streaming behind him, and made straight for the 

 river. Never did I see a buck vault higher or 

 project himseK farther in successive leaps. The 

 Saranacer was too much put to it to articulate a 

 word ; only a series of grunts, as he was twitched 



