With a dexterous blow, however, the buck struck him with his fore foot, and sent him rolling down the hill with a frightful gash in his side.

The buck immediately descended the hillside, and came to bay in a deep pool in the river.

Regardless of his wound, old Bran followed him; Smut and the other dogs joined, and there was a fine bay, the buck fighting like a hero.

The dogs could not touch him, as he was particularly active with his antlers.
I jumped into the water and gave them a cheer, on which the buck answered immediately by charging at me.

I met him with the point of my hunting-knife in the nose, which stopped him, and in the same moment old Smut was hanging on his ear, having pinned him the instant that I had occupied his attention.