"One chance is better nor none," said Jacob, as he commenced loading
the gun. "Who knows what may happen to oie? Mayhap oie may chance to
kill 'un; and you and the measter and the wee bairns may have zummut
zavory for zupper yet."
Away walked Jacob with Moodie's "Manton" over his shoulder. A few
minutes after, I heard the report of the gun, but never expected to
see anything of the game; when Jacob suddenly bounced into the room,
half-wild with delight.
"Thae beast iz dead az a door-nail. Zure, how the measter will
laugh when he zees the fine buck that oie a'zhot."
"And have you really shot him?"
"Come and zee! 'Tis worth your while to walk down to the landing
to look at 'un."
Jacob got a rope, and I followed him to the landing, where, sure
enough, lay a fine buck, fastened in tow of the canoe. Jacob soon
secured him by the hind legs to the rope he had brought; and, with
our united efforts, we at last succeeded in dragging our prize home.
All the time he was engaged in taking off the skin, Jacob was
anticipating the feast that we were to have; and the good fellow
chuckled with delight when he hung the carcass quite close to the
kitchen door, that his "measter" might run against it when he came
home at night.
