A MYSTERY SOLVED
Frank, after that one spasm of alarm, gritted his teeth, and thought
fast. He had heard the rancher, as well as the cowboys, speak of the
terrors of the stampede, when the cattle were in a frenzy, through fear,
and utterly beyond all management.
He knew that frequently experienced cowmen, caught in the rush of a
thousand lumbering steers, had been ground to death under countless
hoofs. It was so in the old days, when bison dotted the plains of the
great West.
Mounted on a good horse, one might hope to ride clear of the advancing
avalanche of hoofs and horns. But his steed was lame, and hardly able to
limp along. The situation was one calculated to arouse a boy as he had
never been awakened before in all his life.
Frank jumped upon the back of his horse. He knew instantly that his one
hope must lie in getting clear of the immense herd; and that this could
only be done by either riding faster than they were going down the wide
valley, or in making for the nearest hillside, where trees would offer
him a refuge.
He chose the latter. Flight in a straightaway course was utterly out of
the question with a cripple between his knees.
"Get up, Hector! Do your prettiest now!" he called to his horse.
The poor beast was trying his hardest to run well, but making only a
pretense, after all, since that lame leg kept him from speedy progress.
Doubtless Hector, being a cow pony, knew full well the nature of the
peril that menaced them, and if it lay in his power he would bear his
young master to a point of safety.
Frank's heart seemed to be in his throat as he leaned forward and
listened to the rapidly approaching roar of hundreds upon hundreds of
hoofs, mingled with the horrid clashing of horns. Added to this was the
deep-toned thunder and the dazzling flashes of lightning.
Once, when he looked to the left, he could see the moving mass that was
sweeping horribly close. After that he resolutely kept his attention
riveted in front, where the ridge loomed up against the darkened
heavens.
Everything depended upon how far he was from the nearest trees. Seconds
counted with Frank just then. The lightning flashed every quarter of a
minute, and yet it seemed to him that they were ages apart.
With his heart in his throat, as it seemed, he stared ahead, and waited
for the next flash to show him the worst. Unless the trees were close
by, his case seemed hopeless, for the main herd appeared to have pushed
over to this side of the valley, unfortunately, showing that he had
picked the wrong course when he started.
Hector stumbled more than once, and Frank feared he would be thrown. He
even wondered whether it would not be better for him to throw himself to
the ground while he had the chance, and trust to his own legs to carry
him to safety.
Then came the eagerly anticipated flash. Hope sprang anew in his breast,
for he had discovered the trees close at hand. One more gallant effort
on the part of the crippled pony, and they managed to pass behind the
outposts of the timber, just as the beginning of the terrible rushing
stampede swept by.
There Frank sat upon his pony, breathing hard, and patting the poor
animal reassuringly. He could hear the loud cries of the cowboys and Mr.
Mabie as they circled about the terrified cattle, trying by every means
possible to influence them to mill; but in that gloom it was impossible
to carry out the usual tactics, and by degrees the sounds died away far
down the valley.
Frank walked with his lame pony to the ranch house. Here he found his
chums in a fright because of his absence. They were afraid he had been
caught in the mad stampede and ground under the hoofs of the steers.
Mr. Mabie did not show up until long after midnight. The storm had
passed away, and the sky cleared by that time. The boys were sitting up,
waiting, none of them thinking of seeking his bed.
"Hello, Frank, my lad! I'm mighty glad to find you here, safe and sound.
I saw your pony at the stable, and that you had bound up his leg,
showing a sprain. But I was afraid that something more serious had been
the matter. You don't know how relieved I was to see your horse; and
Reddy, too. The poor fellow has been in a sweat with fear ever since the
stampede broke out," was the hearty way the rancher greeted Frank as he
came bustling in.
"Oh, I was right in the line of the rush, but by clever work on the
part of my pony managed to reach the trees before they caught me. But
what's the report about the cattle, sir?" asked Frank eagerly.
"The boys have halted them about ten miles from here. Thanks to the
storm stopping, and the animals getting leg weary, we managed to head
them off. Little damage done, except to our feelings. These things
happen once in a while, and are really unavoidable. Steers in a panic
are crazy; but then I suppose the same would apply to human beings, if
all accounts are true that I read about theater fires and such things."
He asked many questions concerning Frank's adventure.
"You just happened to choose the wrong side, lad. Had you headed the
other way you would have had little trouble. The storm came from that
quarter, and a cowboy must have known that cattle always run _away_ from
the lightning and rain. But fortunately you made the timber, and; as the
subject is unpleasant, we'll drop it for the present. Now get off to
bed, the lot of you. In the morning, if you want, I'll take you down
with me, and show you how we drive a big herd."
"I've got my last roll of films in the camera, and that would make a
mighty fine set of pictures to finish up with; but, oh! what wouldn't I
give if I could have caught Frank, here, riding for life on that
crippled pony, and the stampede sweeping down on him!" said Will
enthusiastically.
"Talk to me about your cold-blooded savages! Does anything equal a crank
with a camera, bent on snapping off everything that happens?" muttered
Jerry, shaking his head in real or assumed disgust.
"That is the fate of every genius, to be misunderstood and
misrepresented when ready to sacrifice comfort and everything to his
art. But I am not the only one who is a crank. I have known fellows so
proud of their lungs, that night after night they insisted on filling
the air mattresses of the party just to prove which could blow the
harder; while the other two members of the party sat by and laughed."
Frank chuckled at hearing this, and both Bluff and Jerry looked daggers,
for the shot hit home with them.
In the morning the boys did accompany the rancher down the valley. Frank
showed them his course on the previous night, and they followed his
line of travel until the trees were reached. Trail there was none, for
hundreds of cloven hoofs had pounded the soil about that spot, showing
how narrow had been his escape.
The cowboys were found to have the big herd well in hand. It was even
then on the way back to its former feeding ground. Some of the steers
showed the effects of the mad rush, in various cuts from the horns of
their fellows; and several had tripped and gone down to death in the
panic, the herd trampling them into an unrecognizable mass.
Of course, Will satisfied his longing, and secured what pictures he
wanted.
"I'm happy in having carried out my plans. Won't the home folks stare
when they see the panorama of views I've gathered!" he said jubilantly.
"I should think they would," remarked Jerry, shrugging his shoulders,
"for you certainly have a collection of freak pictures, some of which
would take the prize."
"But all of this lot are genuine. Nobody had to prance around a tree
with a dead yellow dog on his feet, pretending to chase after him,"
asserted Will.
"Whose doing was that, eh? Tell me that! Didn't you just plead with me
to make a fool of myself, and to save you pain I consented. I suppose
I'll never hear the end of that fool joke," growled Jerry.
"Oh, yes, you will. It's all in the family. Others don't know the dog
was dead when he had his picture taken. They all say he looks as though
about to snap a piece out of your leg. Now, I think we've just had a
glorious time of it up here, with nothing to mar our pleasure," remarked
Frank, the peacemaker.
"Except that miserable job of mine in leaving my knife home," sighed
Bluff.
"Talk to me about that, will you! He hasn't forgotten it yet!" exclaimed
Jerry.
"I never can. Hello! Here comes Reddy with a bag of mail, the last we'll
get, I suppose, before we go home. A letter for me? Now just keep your
eyes to yourselves, fellows. I admit it's from Nellie, but no doubt the
dear girl is anxious about her brother Frank, and wants information from
a thoroughly reliable quarter."
Bluff sought out a lonesome corner of the big piazza in front of the
ranch house, and presently all hands were absorbed in their letters.
Suddenly the others heard Bluff utter an exclamation, and looked up just
in time to see him sprint into the building.
"What d'ye suppose ails the fellow?" asked Will.
"Give it up. He seemed to have a broad grin on his face, as though
Nellie must have written something especially sweet. But here he comes
out again, dancing like a wild Indian. What's he waving above his head,
fellows?" said Frank.
"It's his lost hunting-knife, as sure as you live!" echoed Will.
"Just to think of it, boys! The beauty was in my clothes bag all the
time, and I didn't know it! Nellie did it. She mentions the fact in this
letter, and says she was so afraid I'd hurt myself with that knife, by
accident, that she rolled it up in this new flannel shirt, which I've
never thought to put on as yet, and thrust it down at the bottom of my
clothes bag. I never thought to pull it out; and now that the big-game
hunt is over I get my trusty blade."
"Tell me about that, will you! And you thought I was to blame," remarked
Jerry.
"For which I beg your pardon. After all, perhaps no harm was done, and
since Nellie only did it from the best of motives, why, I would be
foolish to be angry."
"Sensible for once," observed Frank, winking at the others.
"And so we will leave the ranch without the slightest cloud on the
horizon. Fellows, all I can say is we're a lucky lot of boys," observed
Will positively.