Bull Hunter

to be forced to confess defeat is another. Unc

on that anybody might get beaten sooner or later-if he fights enough men. And my gun hung in the leather. Before I got it on him he'd shot me clean through the right shoulder-a placed s

ys he, 'you ain't dead; you're worse'n dead. That right arm of yours is going to be stiff the

made one mistake. He forgot that I might have somebody to send on his trail. He didn't know that I had two boys I'd raised so's they was each better with a gun nor me

seemed to find the boys in the darkness and point

e followed. Bul

oward Shantung he's pretty sure to cut in across Pete's trail. Which is goin' to start? Well, you c

be called a man, to be praised by stern Bill Campbel

ve," said Harry's voi

o the Tompkins place,

s him.

the old man cursing softly-medita

storm like this? They won't be no trails left to fi

e that was left, they could hear the whisper o

, right enough,"

eeve-why, he's a

make you handy with guns? What for d'you think I wasted all them hours showin' you

meat," sugg

of meat I mean walks on t

tarted together

te Reeve. He met me single and he fought me clean, and he's going to be pulled do

his the way my blood is showin' up in my so

oken by even the sound of breathing until someone began to sno

That thought stuck in his memory and would not out. And suppose he, Bull, were to accomplish this great feat and return to the shack? Would not Bill Campbell feel doubly repaid for the living he had furnished for his nephew? Mor

pers and the rush and roar of the wind which continually set something stirring in the room. These sounds served to cover effectually any noises he made as he felt about and made up his small pack. His old canvas coat, his most treasured article of apparel, he took dow

That stinging blow steadied to a blast. It was a tremendous, heavy fall. The wind had scoured the drifts from the clearing an

ary snowshoes would not endure his ponderous weight, and Uncle Bill Campbell had fashio

er head and dropped it clumsily on his shoulder. She was among the little, agile mountain ponies what he was among men, and their bulk had rendered each of them more or less helpless. There seemed to be a mute understanding between them, and it was never more appar

ntering the forest of balsam firs, the force of the wind was lessened, and he made good time up the first part of the gra

ame out into a clearing and the wind smote at him from an unexpected angle. In one of these clearings he stopped and took stock of his

e than shrubs a great deal of the time, and merely served to force him into detours around dense hedges. Sometimes, in a clearing, he found himself st

de. Off the towering slopes above, it came with the chill of the snow and with flying bits of sand, scooped up from around the base of trees,

ific cloud effects, as the clouds gushed over the summit and down the slope a little way like the smoke of enormous guns; and again a pyramid of mist was like a

t from lack of breath, turning his back to the west and bowing his head.

rather than a wind. And now and then, when the weight relaxed, he stumbled forward on his knees. For there was

ded, and the peril of the summit would be before him for his march of the day. The wind mourned over him as if it anticipated his defeat. Never had there been such wind, he thought. It screamed above him. It dropped away in sudden lulls of more appalling silence. Then, far off

, birch, and trembling little aspens up there among the stoutest. All were of one height, clean-shaven by the volleys of the wind-driven sand and pebbles that clipped off any treetop that aspired above the mass. In solid numbers was their salvation, and they grew d

heart of the big man quaked. Down in the hollow, over that ridge, was the house of the Campbells. They would be getting up now. Joe would be making the fire, and Harry slicing the bacon. It made a cheerful picture

chens were almost out of place here, and what folly could lead a man across the shifting snows? But to be called a man, to be admired in silence, to be asked for opinions, t

t was a series of maddening mirages. He stumbled over solid rocks where nothing seemed to be in his way; and again what seemed a rock of huge size was n

alternately in a bewildering, driving fog and then in an air made crazy with electricity. Again and again, from one side or the other, he started when the storm boomed and cannonaded down a ravine a

lid with ice. Bull looked gloomily toward the summit so close above him, and the ice glimmered in the dull light. There was only one way to make even the attempt. He sat down, took off his snowshoes, strap

grow chilled and the wind-driven cold numbed his ears. But, more than that, the wind was now a grim peril, for, from time to time, it swerved and leaped on him he

That he was undertaking a task from which either of them would have shrunk in horror never occurred to him. Yonder, beyond the summit, lay his destiny-Joh

the gravel beneath; how it was made, Bull could not guess. But he took advantage of it. Presently he was

quiet his shaken nerves. The clouds split apart in the zenith; the sun burst through; on both sides the br

s down the arch of the sky and toward the east, was more mighty than