It is astonishing how much animation and attitude has to do with
beauty. I had never seen one look well before, but as his form was
relieved against the sky, he looked as he is, the giant king of the
forest. He was just in the act of shifting his feet in the yielding
surface of the boggy meadow, preparatory to a start, when he was again
transfixed by an arrow, in a more vulnerable and vital part. He
sprung, or rather reared forward, and came down on his knees, and then
several times repeated the attempt to commence his flight by the same
desperate effort. At last he fell to rise no more, and soon rolled
over, and after some splashing with his head to avoid the impending
death by drowning, quietly submitted to his fate. Nothing now was
visible of him but the tips of his horns, and a small strip of the
hide that covered his ribs. A shout from the boat proclaimed the
victory.
"Ah, Mr Slick," said the doctor, "what could you have done with only a
charge of duck-shot in your gun, eh? The arrow, you see, served for
shot and bullet. I could have killed him with the first shaft, but his
head was turned, and covered the vital spot. So I had to aim a little
too far forward, but still it carried a death-warrant with it, for he
couldn't have run over a mile without falling from exhaustion, arising
from the loss of blood. It is a charming day for the bow, for there is
no wind, and I could hit a dollar at a hundred and twenty yards.
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