FROM ONE PERIL TO ANOTHER
BOB did not need the warning from Sandy to put him on his guard. The
mere fact that there was a panther near by was sufficient reason
for his alertness, because no animal that roamed the woods was more
respected than this sleek gray beast with the square jaws, the powerful
muscles and the sharp claws.
Every slight movement of the bushes caused Bob to turn his eyes in that
direction, with his gun half raised, ready to take a quick shot. And,
yet, he knew well how important it was that he use extreme care, when
the time came for firing. A wounded panther was a thing to be dreaded
by even the stoutest-hearted hunter. He had heard many stories told
around the family hearth at home about these animals, by such men as
Pat O'Mara, the jolly Irish borderer, old Reuben Jacks, the veteran
hunter, and others; all of whom agreed that they would sooner face a
bear, or a pack of wolves than a big "cat" that was wild with pain and
rage.
Bob could see his brother now, on his knees, still struggling to
release himself from the hold of the fox trap, that seemed to grip his
ankle with a stubborn determination to keep him from reaching his gun,
standing there so close, but beyond his itching fingers.
Once Bob thought he saw the beast crouching among some bushes that ran
down to the edge of the water; but he dared not waste his one shot on
an uncertainty, since he would then be compelled to defend himself with
his knife or hatchet. And, as it turned out, he showed considerable
wisdom in repressing his boyish desire to fire, for just then there was
a movement in an entirely different direction, and he had a glimpse of
a gray beast slinking past a small opening.
At this moment, Sandy made a new discovery that added a new note of
alarm to his voice:
"Oh! there are two of them, Bob! Be careful what you do, brother! Try
to scare them off without shooting, if you can! Oh! if I could only
reach my gun, it would be all right; but I'm held here, a prisoner!"
It was a time for doing the right thing, as Bob well knew. If there
were, indeed, a pair of the animals, eager to pounce upon the boy who
was so helpless there, he would certainly have his hands full.
Fire would frighten them away, Bob knew; but he had no means of quickly
igniting a handful of dead leaves. In those early days, long before
matches of any kind had come to be known, the only way to get fire
was by the use of flint and steel; and often it was a difficult task,
requiring a pinch of powder, the same as was used for priming in the
pan of a gun.
In this emergency there flashed into the active mind of the young
pioneer a dozen schemes for frightening the panthers away, or, at
least, make the brutes hesitate long enough for him to have a chance
to hand to his brother the gun that was so tantalizingly close to his
eager fingers. Both armed, they might, by two well-directed shots, put
an end to both of the panthers.
Each scheme was, however, dismissed as impracticable as soon as
thought of, and there remained to Bob only the one thought,--he must,
regardless of the danger, reach his brother's gun!
Believing that a sudden noise might momentarily disconcert the beasts,
he gathered himself for a spring, and then, with a shrill, piercing
cry, he leaped from the bushes, and dashed forward.
The distance was but a few yards, and was quickly covered. Seizing
Sandy's gun, he, by the same motion, tossed it to his eager brother,
and the two lads, back to back, stood with ready weapons, awaiting the
spring of the crouching panthers.
Moments passed and, to the boys, the tension was fearful. Suddenly the
silence was broken by a sharp, cracking sound, followed by a mighty
crash, as a huge dead tree toppled down, its bare, gaunt branches
grazing the boys, as they stood alertly eying the surrounding bushes.
This was followed by a slight rustling sound and then all was again
still.
For several minutes the lads maintained their tense attitude and then,
with a sigh of relief, Bob relaxed his strained muscles.
"I believe, Sandy, the fall of that dead tree scared the brutes away,"
he said, at last.
"You are right, Bob," answered the other, with a ring of disgust in his
voice; "I do believe the cowards are slinking off over there, for I
saw the brush moving. I wish we could have had a shot at them."
"Well, for one, I'm glad they've taken a notion to let us alone," Bob
remarked. "I was afraid that they would spring at any second, and we
might have missed, or only wounded, one or both of the panthers. It was
exciting while it lasted, Sandy."
"Yes, I can say it was," replied the other, with a shrug of his
shoulders. "Just think of me held up here like this, and with the teeth
of that old trap biting in deeper every time I pulled, or tried to turn
around. Please get me loose, Bob; my ankle will be pretty sore after
this, I'm afraid."
"So you couldn't turn around to unfasten it yourself," remarked the
other, as he hastened to turn the trap over, so that he might stand on
the double spring, and thus throw back the two jaws. "There, does that
fix it, Sandy? Looks like those teeth had chewed pretty well into your
buckskin legging, too. I hope you won't be crippled too badly to limp
back to the boat."
Sandy scrambled to his feet, and started to try his left leg. He
certainly did limp considerably, but only made a wry face as he said:
"I'll have to stand it, Bob. And, then, it might have been so much
worse. Think how those sharp teeth must have cut into my leg but for
the support of that stout deerskin legging. And even they would have
been nothing like the teeth of a panther. I honestly believe the savage
beasts meant to get me. And, after this, I'm just going to add as many
panther skins to our bag as I can, to pay up for the scare they gave
me."
"Well," Bob replied, "I think we'll give up all idea of keeping along
our line of traps to-day. Not to speak of your lame ankle, it seems
to get darker all the while; and, with the river before us, we'd be
foolish to stay over here any longer than we can help. You remember
what mother told us, Sandy?"
"Oh! I wouldn't bother my head about any trouble we might have in
making the other shore all right," declared the confident younger boy;
"but, then, with this pain in my leg, I don't see how I could manage to
get over much ground. However, if you care to go on alone, I can get
back to the boat, and wait there for you to come."
Bob shook his head resolutely.
"I'll return with you, Sandy," he said, "but first we will pick up the
mink I dropped, if, indeed, those hungry woods cats have not already
found it. It looks as if we will have to be contented with a fox and a
mink for this afternoon."
"With three more traps to hear from," grumbled Sandy, who hated
exceedingly to be kept from doing what he had planned. "This seemed to
be our lucky day, Bob; and the chances are we'd have found something in
every trap. Now those two panthers will just about run the line, and
clean everything out for us."
"Still, we have a whole lot to be thankful for," urged the older boy,
as he picked up the red fox, threw it over his shoulder, and offered
to assist Sandy in walking. The other, however, scorned to appear like
a cripple, and managed unaided to limp along close at his brother's
heels, though he made many a wry face, unseen by Bob, as pains shot
through the injured ankle.
They were fortunate enough to find the mink just where it had been so
hastily dropped when Bob heard the shouts of the trapped boy, and, as
soon as this had been secured, they turned their faces toward the point
where the dugout had been left.
"You see that I was right about the weather thickening up again," Bob
remarked, leading the way at as fast a pace as he believed the lame
member of the expedition could stand.
"It does grow gloomy right along, for a fact. As you say, Bob, perhaps
the bad spell was only broken for a short time, and the rains may come
on worse than ever. Ouch! that hurt like everything then. I didn't see
that root sticking up in the trail. Don't I wish I was over home right
now, so I could wash that sore spot with hot water, and have mother
apply some of that wonderful salve which she makes out of herbs."
"Only a little way more, and we'll strike the boat," called out Bob,
encouragingly; "there, I can see the place now."
"I was just thinking what a fix we'd be in if we found it gone!"
remarked Sandy. "With the river booming bank-full, and the current as
fierce as a wolf pack, how in the wide world would we ever manage to
get across, Bob?"
"I'm not going to bother my head trying to guess," answered the other.
"Time enough to cross a bridge when you come to it. Besides, I happen
to know that the boat is still there, for I just had a glimpse of it.
But, did you mean you thought the river could have risen enough, since
we left, to carry it off?"
"No," said Sandy, soberly, "I was thinking of that second warning you
found under the door of the cabin this very morning, and wondering
whether those French trappers could be around on this side of the
river. If they saw our boat, and guessed whose it was, they'd be ready
to send it adrift, and keep us from getting home to-night."
"That is just what I think, myself; and they would do even worse
than that, if they had the chance. The only thing that keeps them
from firing on us as we pass through the forest is their fear of the
vengeance of Boone and Kenton, not to speak of Pontiac, whose wampum
belt hangs in our cabin, a sign of his protecting hand over the
Armstrong family. But, here we are; and now to get started right away."
One glance out upon the heaving bosom of the flood told Sandy that they
had been wise to give up further idea of staying on the further shore.
Indeed, with the gathering darkness, it began to look as if, even now,
they had taken more chances than were wise or prudent.
The boys pushed out with a fearlessness that was characteristic of
their actions. Accustomed to facing perils by land or water, they
seldom hesitated, or allowed anything like alarm to influence them,
when duty called. And both lads knew that, should they fail to return
home on that night, there would be little sleep under the Armstrong
roof.
As usual, Sandy sat in the bow of the boat, while his brother managed
the stern paddle with considerable dexterity. Until they had come to
the Ohio country neither boy had had very much experience in boats;
but, after the dugout was built, they spent much of their time on the
water, shooting ducks for the family larder, fishing, or crossing over
to hunt on the other shore, where, later on in the fall, they had
stretched a line of traps that brought them in many a fine pelt.
They soon found that, somehow, owing to the trend of the shore,
perhaps, it was going to prove an even more difficult task to push the
heavy dugout back to the southern side of the river, than it had been
in coming across. The current added to their troubles, for it carried
them along faster than either of the boys had dreamed possible. For the
first time, possibly, they were learning of the power of the flood,
once it arose in its tremendous might.
Both lads strained every muscle as they drove the blades deeply into
the water. They had, by the hardest kind of work, managed to get about
half-way over, though both of them were somewhat winded by their
efforts, when they noticed that heavy clouds, rolling up across the
heavens, had begun to bring the dusk of night much earlier than even
the careful Bob had anticipated.
There were many obstructions that had to be avoided. Trees were
floating on the surface of the water in places, and logs seemed
plentiful. Altogether, it was an entirely new sight to both Bob and his
brother, for, until now, they had never known the beautiful Ohio to
rise to a point that could be called dangerous.
"Take care, and keep away from that tree!" warned Bob, as he saw a
particularly ugly snag, with broken branches sticking out along its
sides, bearing down upon them on the left.
They had to paddle furiously in order to keep clear of this
threatening object, and, possibly, in his eagerness, Sandy may have
bent too heavily on his paddle, for, just as they reached a point where
they would be safe from the floating tree, there was a sharp snap.
"What happened?" cried Bob, alarmed more than he would have liked to
confess.
For reply Sandy held up the stump of his paddle. It had broken off
clean, and, from that time on, only one could paddle at a time. This
catastrophe was sure to delay their passage, and doubtless cause them
to be swept some miles down-stream before they could land; but the boys
were hardy, and would not mind walking back, though doubtless Sandy
might complain a little on account of his lame leg.
Bob set to work again with a good will, and was making fair progress
when yet another peril came booming along, this time in the shape of a
heavy log that was sweeping with the speeding current.
Bob saw the danger and strove the best he could to avoid it; but, in
the clutch of the current, the little dugout seemed but a plaything,
and the log, driving three times as fast as they were going,
bore straight down upon them. When Bob saw that a collision was
unavoidable, he called at the top of his voice to his brother:
"It's going to strike us, Sandy. Hold on to your gun if you can, and
climb aboard the log as they come together; for I fear that the boat
will sink. Quick! jump now!"