The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1907-03-27
A BATTLE ROYAL.
How Stallion and Buck Fought Blind.
ly to the Death.

At about O'Clock in the morning,
at that mystic hour when nature
seems to send a message to all her
animate children, preparing them for
the advent of dawn, the white stal.
lion got up, shook himself, stepped
softly down to the brooks edge for
drink, and then fell to cropping the
grass wherever it remained green.
The forest, though to careless ear
1t might have seemed as silent as be,
fore, had in reality stirred to sud.
den, ephemeral life. Far off, from
some high rock, a she fox barked
sharply. Faint, mufiied chirps from
the thick bushes told of junkos and
chickadees waking up to see if all
was well in the world. The mice set
up scurrying in the grass. And
presently high-antlered buck
stepped out of the shadows and start
ed across the open toward the brook
The dark buck, himself moving
shadow, saw the stallion first, and
stopped with a loud snort of astonish.
ment and defiance. The stallion
wheeled about, eyed the intruder for
moment doubtfully, then trotted up
with a whinny of pleased interroga.
tion. He had no dread of the antlered
visitor, but rather hope of compan.
ionship in the vast and overpowering
loneliness of the alien night.
The buck, however, was in anything
but a friendly mood. His veins
aflame with the arrogant pugnacity OF
the rutting season, he saw in the
white stranger only a possible rival,
and grew hot with. rage at his ap-
proach. With an impatient stamping
of his slim fore-hoofs he gave chal.
lenge. But to the stallion this was
an unknown language. Innocently he
came up, his nose stretched out In
question, till he was within few feet
Of the motionless buck. Then, to his
astonishment, the latter bounced sud.
denly aside like ball, stood straight
up on his hind legs, and struck at
him like lightning with those keen.
edged, slim fore-hoofs. 1t was say.
age assault, and two long, red fur
rows-one longer and deeper than the
other-appeared on the stations
silky, white flank.
In that instant the wanderers
friendliness vanished, and an aveIlg.
ing fury took its place. His confidence
had been cruelty betrayed. With a
harsh squeal, his mouth wide open,
and lips drawn back from his formid.
able teeth, he sprang at his assailant.
But the buck had no vain idea Of
standing up against this whirlwind Of
wrath which he had evoked. He
bounded aside, lightly but hurriedly,
and watched for an opportunity to re.
peat his attack.
The stallion, however, was not to be
caught again; and the dashing fero-
city of his rushes kept his adversary
ceaselessly on the move, bounding in.
to the air and leaping aside to avoid
those disastrous teeth. The buck was
awaiting what he felt sure would
come, the chance to strike again; and
his confidence in his own supreme
agility kept him from any apprehen-
sion as to the outcome of the fight.
But the bucks great weakness lay
in his ignorance, his insufficient
knowledge of the game he was play.
ing. He had no idea that his rushing
white antagonist had any other tao.
tics at command. When he gave way,
therefore, he went just far enough to
escape the stations teeth and batter.
ing fore-feet. The stallion, on the 9th.
er hand, soon realized the futility of
his present method of attack against
so nimble an adversary. On his next
rush, therefore, just as the buck
bounced aside, he wheeled in short
half circle, and lashed out high and
far with his steel-shod heels. The
buck was just within the most dead.
ly range of the blow. He caught the
terrific impact on the base of the neck
and the forward point Of the shoulder
and went down as il an explosive bull
let had struck him. Before he could
even stir to rise the stallion was up.
on him, trampling, battering, squeal.
ing, biting madly; and the fight was
done. When the wanderer had spent
his vengeance, and paused, snortine
and wild-eyed, to take breath, he
looked down upon a mangled shape
that no longer struggled or stirred
or even breathed. Then the last Of
his righteous fury faded out. The
sight and smell Of the blood sickened
him, and in a kind Of terror he turned
away. For few hesitating moments
he stared about his little retreat and
then, finding it had grown hateful tc
him, he forsook 1t and pushed onward
on the edge of the stream, between
the black, impending walls of the for.
est.-From Charles d. G. Roberts's
"a Stranger to the Wild" in the Cen.
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