I waited breathlessly for a minute or two, and then went forward, with
my second pistol at the cock.

There was nothing behind the tree. Only a piece of red bark with a
bullet hole through it, some greasy horsehair, and a feather. And then
from many quarters seemed to come a wicked laughter, I leaned against
the trunk, with a deadly nausea clutching at my heart. Poor fool, I had
rejoiced for a second, only to be dashed into utter despair!

I do not think I had ever had much hope, but now I was convinced that
all was over. The water had made my burns worse, and disappointment had
sapped the little remnants of my strength. My one desire was to get out
of this ghoulish thicket and die by the stream-side. The cool sound of
it would be a fitting dirge for a foolish fellow who had wandered far
from his home.

I could hear the plunge of it, and struggled towards it. I was long
past taking any care. I stumbled and slipped along the hill-side, my
breath labouring, and a moaning at my lips from sheer agony and
weakness. If an arrow sped between my ribs I would still reach the
water, for I was determined to die with my legs in its flow.

Suddenly it was before me. I came out on a mossy rock above a deep,
clear pool, into which a cascade tumbled. I knelt feebly on the stone,
gazing at the blue depths, and then I lifted my eyes.

There on a rock on the other side stood my enemy.

He had an arrow fitted to his bow, and as I looked he shot. It struck
me on the right arm, pinning it just above the elbow. The pistol, which