OVER THE FALLS.
Not for an instant. He had decided on his course while leaping down into
the opening which had admitted the imperilled bruin into safety. The
moment he landed he flung his gun away, snatched off his hat, doffed his
coat, seemingly with the same movement, and leaped with might and main
into the terrible current.
The narrow width at this portion caused him to strike within arm's
length of his friend. The left arm of the powerful young Irishman griped
the collar of the sinking youth, and he gave him a shake fierce enough
almost to dislocate his neck.
"Wake up, Whart, ye spalpeen! What's the matter wid ye?"
They were now so close to the falls that the voice of Larry was
indistinct, but the violent shaking did just what was needed. The
half-drowned youth was roused, and stared about him in a bewildered way.
He gasped and began struggling.
"Take it aisy, me boy," added Larry, who could not avoid talking even in
that appalling moment; "ye nadn't try to swim over the falls, for the
water is kind enough to save ye the trouble."
The knowledge that his friend was alive, when he feared he was not, was
enough to send a thrill of pleasure through him, even though the
awakening, as may be said, was on the brink of death itself.
Young Edwards was still too bewildered to comprehend matters. His
struggling continued, but it was instinctive and naturally without the
least result. His companion retained his grasp on his collar until he
saw that nothing could be gained by it. Then he let go and gave more
attention to himself.
By this time they were on the brink of the falls. The torrent moved with
a calm, swift, hurrying impressiveness that was the more appalling
because of its contrast with the churning hades of waters below. It was
as if the volume, gathering itself for the plunge, ran forward with
eager speed and dived off the rocks into the boiling cauldron.
Larry Murphy was too wise to make any resistance. He drew in his breath,
cast one look at the white face of his friend, uttered a prayer for
both, and then over they went.
Neither of the youths were ever able to tell clearly what followed
during the few moments, though their experiences must have been quite
similar. Larry Murphy probably kept better track of events than his
companion, because he had not suffered the temporary daze undergone by
him a brief while before.
It seemed to him that on the very brink of the falls he was thrown
bodily outward and downward by some fearful power independent of the
resistless current. The descent, of necessity, was short, but it
appeared to be tenfold its actual length. Then he went down, down, down,
as though he would never stop, until he fancied that he was driven to
the bottom of a watery cavern of immeasurable depths.
He instinctively held his breath until he felt that the distended
blood-vessels must burst. He was whirled about and tossed hither and
thither amid spray and foam and more sold water, like an egg-shell in a
maelstrom. Then, when he could hold his breath no longer, he made one
spasmodic inhalation. He was almost strangled, but a part of that which
he drew in was air. The next breath was all air, and then he was
swimming in the comparatively smooth water below the falls.
As soon as he could clear his eyes and look about him, he saw that he
was borne along by the swift current, which was double the width of the
stream above. Instead of the rocky bluffs which rendered it almost
unapproachable in that portion, the banks were comparatively low and
lined with large trees, some of which leaned out over the water, with
their limbs almost touching it.
The most pleasing sight that greeted Larry was that of his friend in the
act of lifting himself upon dry land, with the help of one of the
overhanging limbs. He had escaped and was himself again.
"Are you all right?" he called, in a cheery voice, looking around at
Larry, who was swimming hard toward the same point, but would be unable
to strike it until he passed a few rods below.
"I'm not sure, but I think I be; I'll report whin I sets fut on dry
land."
"If you are bruised or hurt, I'll swim out to your help."
"Stay where ye be till I asks ye to do the same."
Wharton moved along the bank, so as to keep pace with his friend. When
the shore was reached he extended his hand and helped him out, and, as
may be supposed, the two greeted each other with warmth and gratitude.
Wharton explained what a woful mistake he made in his eagerness to get a
shot at the bear, but Larry did not refer to the blunder he committed
when he shot at a fallen tree instead of the brute.
"I wonder where that cratur is?" said he, looking around as if he
expected to see the animal at his elbow.
"Safe beyond any harm from us," replied Wharton; "he had enough sense
to get out of the water before going over the falls."
"And it's yersilf that would have done the same, but for the whack ye
got from trying to bust the rocks apart by jumping against them."
"That was the stupidest thing I ever did in my life. If I had taken ten
seconds more I could have made the leap as easy as you can jump over
your hat."
"Ye are mighty good at leaping and running, but I wouldn't want to see
ye try that again."
"Which reminds me, Larry, that it's best to go back and get our guns
before some one else finds them for us."
The clothing of the youths was drenched, but they cared nothing for
that, for it was the summer time, and the weather was seasonable. So far
as Larry Murphy could tell, he had received no injury whatever. His
companion suffered somewhat from his collision with the rocks, but that
was of a nature that it must soon pass away, and was only felt at
intervals.
While the couple are making their way to the point above the falls,
where the elder had left his gun and part of his clothing, we will give
a few sentences of explanation.
Brigham Edwards and his family dwelt in one of the small frontier
settlements of Kentucky. His family consisted of his wife, his only son
Wharton, aged seventeen, and the Irish youth, a year older. They had
lived originally in Western Pennsylvania, where Larry was left to the
care and kindness of the well-to-do settler, who had been one of the
best friends his Irish laboring man ever knew. The mother of Larry died
in his infancy, so that he was an orphan, without any near relatives.
Mr. Edwards was among the prominent members of the frontier town, where
he had lived for nearly three years, when the incident just described
occurred. The parents took it into their heads a short time before to
make a visit to some old friends that had settled in a larger town about
a hundred miles farther east. In order to do so, they mounted their
ponies and followed a well-marked trail, crossing several streams and
mountainous sections, and incurring considerable danger from the
Indians, who, in those days, were nearly always hostile.
About half way between the two settlements stood a block-house, which
was a favorite meeting-place for Boone, Kenton, McClelland, Wells, and
the frontier rangers whose names are linked with the early history of
the great West. It was agreed between the parents and the boys that they
should meet on the return of the former at this post, and make the rest
of the journey together.
Mr. Edwards fixed on the 10th of August as the day he would be at the
block-house. The boys were to arrive no later than that date, and no
sooner than a day before. The parents agreed to wait twenty-four hours
for them if necessary, and then, in case they did not show up, they were
to continue their journey homeward.
The trail was so plain and the route so well known that it was easy to
make accurate calculations, and to figure the time within a very few
hours when the respective parties would reach the block-house. This
figuring, as in these later days, was based on the supposition that no
accident befell any one concerned.
Wharton and Larry had walked about two-thirds of the distance between
their home and the block-house, when they had their flurry with the huge
bear, which certainly did not suffer as much as they. It was early in
the afternoon of the mild summer day, and they were in the depths of the
vast Kentucky wilderness through which prowled the wild beasts and
equally wild red men.
The lads soon reached the spot where Larry had flung his coat and
coonskin cap. The former was picked up, and a short distance off he
found his rifle unharmed. The cap, however, was still missing, after the
two had spent some little time hunting for it.
"Whart," said Larry, stopping short and staring hard at him, "I know
what's become of that fine hat of me own."
"Well?"
"The bear sneaked back here and stole it; he's got the laugh on us so
far, but I'll niver be satisfied till we mate again and adjoost
accounts."
"More likely you flung it into the water in your excitement, and it went
over the falls with us."
"Why didn't I think of the same?" asked Larry, with a relieved
expression on his freckled face. "I don't mind its absince, for I'd
rather be widout a hat than to wear one, but the sun harms me
complexion."
"Come on," laughed Wharton, laboriously climbing his way to the higher
bluffs, whither his companion followed him; "I feel a little uneasy
about leaving my rifle so long."
"How are ye going to get to the same?"
"I'll show you."
It will be understood that they had left the water below the falls on
the side from which they had entered it, so that the weapon lay on the
bluffs just across where the owner had flung it. The athletic youth
intended to repeat the leap he made a short time before, despite the
protests of Larry, who had no wish to make a second descent of the falls
in his effort to help his friend.
"Go ahead, go ahead," he said, "if ye find any fun in the same; we've
got a half day to spare, and I s'pose we may as well spend it in
turning flip-flaps off the rocks and over the falls as in any other
way."
"No fear of that," calmly answered his friend, who, having reached the
place, now prepared to make the leap.
The preparations were simple. There was a run of a couple of rods, all
that he needed. Taking a number of short, quick steps, young Edwards
bounded from the edge of the bluff for the opposite one, whose elevation
was about the same.
He formed a striking picture, with his fine athletic form crouching in
mid-air, or sustained for an instant over the rushing torrent into which
he was precipitated on his first effort. His feet were partly gathered
under him, and his bent elbows were close at his sides in the approved
attitude. Larry, who knew the marvellous powers of his young friend in
running or leaping, never felt any misgiving as to the result, though he
pretended to be alarmed.
He saw him alight more than a foot beyond the edge with the grace of an
antelope, taking only a couple of steps forward from the momentum of
his new leap.
"That's aisy," he muttered, "that is, for him as finds it aisy to do;
I'm sure I could make the leap if they'd move the bluffs about half the
distance nearer to this side than the same is at this moment."
Larry was indulging in these characteristic expressions, when he thought
his friend was acting as though not fully satisfied with things. He
walked a few steps, as if about to lift his gun from the ground, but
abruptly halted, straightened up, and looked about him in a puzzled way.
At this point the two were so far above the falls that they could easily
understand each other's words without elevating their voices to an
unusual extent. The Irishman's waggery was irrepressible.
"I say, Whart, the bear tuk it the same as me cap; he's going off with
both his arms full."
Young Edwards must have heard the badinage, but he gave no evidence of
it. He stood looking at the ground, but not across the stream, where
his friend was watching him.
"I say, what's the matter?" called Larry, beginning to feel uneasy at
the peculiar action of his friend.
In answer, the younger lad turned about and looked hard at him. His face
was pale, as if he were laboring under great excitement; beyond question
he had made some alarming discovery. Glancing to the right and left,
young Edwards now came to the edge of the bluff, and making a funnel of
one of his hands called out:
"Run, Larry, as quick as you can! don't wait a minute."
"What is it, owld felly?"
"Indians!" was the startling reply; "the woods are full of them."
"Why, then, don't ye run yersilf?" demanded the astounded Larry; "leap
back here, and we'll keep each ither company."
"Run, run!" called his companion, frantically gesticulating and
motioning him away. "They've got my gun, and if they see you, Larry,
you're lost!"
The impetuosity of the youth literally forced the Irish lad away from
the stream and among the trees. He retreated a few yards, puzzled beyond
expression.
"What the mischief can I do?" he asked himself; "I can't jump more'n
half way across the stream, and that won't do me any good. What does
Whart maan by sinding me away while he stays and won't jump? By the
powers! I have it!" he exclaimed, striking his thigh and stopping short.
"It's a maan thrick of his to git me out of the way, where I won't be
harmed, while he rolls up his slaaves and fights a whole tribe of
Injins. That thrick won't work! Larry Murphy must be counted in."