THE ODYSSEY OF OLD BILL 89 
and a little frightened. But he was angry, too. 
His nostrils expanded, for an instant he saw red, 
and lowering his own smaller antlers, which were 
still mere prongs, with only a suggestion of the 
palm formation, he charged full at the older 
animal, who met his rush with another. The 
result was inevitable. The stronger, heavier bull 
knocked the smaller one back down the bank, 
where poor Bill was content to remain, seeing his 
father turn and with long, powerful strides and 
a great swish as his triumphant antlers swept the 
foliage, disappear toward the far-off call. 
Presently Bill rose and followed deliberately. 
He was young. He had plenty of time. Some 
day his antlers would spread sixty inches, and 
then 
But it was not the next year, nor the next, nor 
even the next. Three years passed when Bill did 
not challenge his father’s supremacy. But he 
grew—he grew in stature, and he grew in bold- 
ness. Perhaps because he was born with such a 
hump of curiosity, and a sense of humor, too, 
Bill in his summer wanderings practiced less and 
less sly concealment, till many people in the up- 
