“Keep close to me, boys,” he said, waiting for Sam to come still nearer, “for I don’t like the way this torch is behaving; I believe it is going out altogether, and I think I’ll get a better—­”

“Look out! there he is now!” exclaimed Sam, in no little excitement.

As he uttered the warning words, Bowser turned squarely about and ran back to where his master had halted with the smoking torch, and crouched at his feet, whining and appealing for protection against some enemy.

Just then a savage sniff was heard, followed instantly by the sound of hoofs, as the unknown animal charged upon Herbert Watrous, who was whirling his half-expired torch around his head with such swiftness that it made a ring of fire, similar to those which all boys delight to look upon during the pyrotechnic displays on the Fourth of July.

Herbert was so impressed with the importance of this action, that he threw all his energy in it, stooping down and rising on his tip-toes with the motion of the torch, and grunting hard and with much regularity, as he always did when exerting himself with unusual vigor.

He caught the warning cry of Sam and the rattle of the hoofs at the same instant.

“Shoot him!  Shoot him!” he shouted to his friends, who could not gain the view of the beast necessary to make the shot safe for Herbert himself.

The savage creature, from some reason, probably because the torch was less formidable, made for the city youth, who was not aware of his danger until too late.

The brute went directly between his outspread feet, and, lifting him on his back, carried him several paces, when Herbert, his gun, torch, and himself, mixed up in great confusion, rolled off backward, turning a partial somersault and landing solidly on his head, his gun going off in the confusion and adding to it.

Sam Harper threw down his torch, so as to use his rifle, but he saw Herbert’s dilemma and waited the chance to shoot without danger of harming him; but the partial extinguishment of his own torch, and the total blotting out of Herbert’s, rendered the risk still greater.

While he stood, with gun partly raised and hand on the trigger, Herbert rolled off, but Sam had not time to catch the fact when the beast shot between his legs, and he felt himself lifted off his feet and fairly whizzing through the air.

Nick Ribsam’s torch was burning brightly and illuminated the whole scene.  He was in a stooping position, holding his flaming brand so he could see everything, and he was laughing so hard that he could hardly keep from falling to the ground from weakness.

He had recognized the animal, which they had held in such terror, as a large hog that had doubtless wandered in the woods so long with his mates, eating the acorns and nuts fallen from the trees, that he was half wild and ready to attack any one who came near him.

The hog was a lank, bony fellow, with great strength and swiftness of gait, and, like his fiercer brother the wild boar of Europe, he possessed undoubted courage.