The buck made a furious lunge.

Oh! what foul fiend was it gave him then such force ?--and Rolf went down.
Clinging for dear life to those wicked, shameful horns, he yelled as he never yelled before: "Quonab, Quonabi help me, oh, help me!" But he was pinned at once, the fierce brute above him pressing on his chest, striving to bring its horns to bear; his only salvation had been that their wide spread gave his body room between.

But the weight on his chest was crushing out his force, his life; he had no breath to call again.

How the ravens chuckled, and "haw-hawed" in the tree! The buck's eyes gleamed again with the emerald light of murderous hate, and he jerked his strong neck this way and that with the power of madness.

It could not last for long.