Frank, the Young Naturalist | Page 7

Harry Castlemon
wild-cat," that he seemed to be deprived of action. But Frank had not made a dozen steps from the house before Archie made a dash for his gun, and occasioned a greater uproar than Frank had done; and, not stopping to hear the farmer's injunction to "be careful," he darted out the door, which Frank in his hurry had left open, and started toward the woods at a rate of speed that would have done credit to a larger boy than himself. But Frank gained rapidly on him; and when he reached the tree where the wild-cat had taken refuge, Archie was full twenty rods behind. He found that the animals had not changed their positions. The wild-cat was glaring fiercely down upon the dog as if endeavoring to look him out of countenance; and Brave, seated on his haunches, with his head turned on one side, and his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, was steadily returning the gaze. Frank took a favorable position at a little distance from the foot of the tree, and cocking both barrels, so as to be ready for any emergency, in case the first should not prove fatal, raised his gun to his shoulder, and glancing along the clean, brown tube, covered one of the wild-cat's eyes with the fatal sight, and pressed the trigger. There was a sharp report, and the animal fell from his perch stone-dead. At this moment Archie came up. After examining their prize to their satisfaction, the boys commenced looking around through the bushes to find the clog which had been detached from the trap. After some moments' search they discovered it; and Archie unfastened the chain, and shouldering the ax and guns, he started toward the house. Frank followed after, with the wild-cat on his shoulder, the trap still hanging to his leg. The skin was carefully taken off; and when Archie and Frank got home, they stuffed it, and placed it as we now see it.
CHAPTER III.
The Museum.
Let us now proceed to examine the other objects in the museum. A wide shelf, elevated about four feet above the floor, extends entirely around the room, and on this the specimens are mounted. On one side of the door stands a tall, majestic elk, with his head thrown forward, and his wide-spreading antlers lowered, as if he meant to dispute our entrance. On the opposite side is a large black fox, which stands with one foot raised and his ears thrown forward, as if listening to some strange sound. This is the same fox which so long held possession of Reynard's Island; and the young naturalist and his cousin were the ones who succeeded in capturing him. The next two scenes are what Frank calls his "masterpieces." The first is a large buck, running for dear life, closely followed by a pack of gaunt, hungry wolves, five in number, with their sharp-pointed ears laid back close to their heads, their tongues hanging out of their mouths, and their lips spotted with foam The flanks of the buck are dripping with blood from wounds made by their long teeth. In the next scene the buck is at bay. Almost tired out, or, perhaps, too closely pressed by his pursuers, he has at length turned furiously upon them, to sell his life as dearly as possible. Two of the wolves are lying a little distance off, where they have been tossed by the powerful buck, one dead, the other disabled; and the buck's sharp antlers are buried deep in the side of another, which had attempted to seize him.
Well may Frank be proud of these specimens, for they are admirably executed. The animals are neatly stuffed, and look so lifelike and the positions are so natural, that you could almost fancy that you hear the noise of the scuffle. The next scene represents an owl, which, while engaged in one of his nocturnal plundering expeditions, has been overtaken by daylight, and not being able to reach his usual hiding-place, he has taken refuge in a clump of bushes, where he has been discovered by a flock of his inveterate enemies, the crows. The owl sits upon his perch, glaring around with his great eyes, while his tormentors surround him on all sides, their mouths wide open, as if reviling their enemy with all their might. The next scene represents a flock of ducks sporting in the water, and a sly old fox, concealed behind the trunk of a tree close by, is watching their motions, evidently with the intention of "bagging" one of them for his supper. In the next scene he is running off, at full speed, with one of the ducks thrown over his shoulder; and the others, with their mouths open as if quacking
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