Every one made a dash to avert the disaster on hearing their leader's
words, but the stampede had already begun. Disaster of a serious kind
was about to fall upon the little expedition, and but for the energy of
Griggs and Chris matters would have been worse than they were.
For panic had seized upon two or three of the mules, which took alarm
from the startled mustangs, and directly after they would all have been
in headlong flight, kicking wildly as they tore away, when the same
thought came to two of the party who had the energy and nerve to put it
into action.
The idea was that even then, frightened as they were, the mules would
obey their old habit, so driving their heels into their snorting
mustangs' sides, Griggs and Chris raced after Skeeter as he was tearing
along at full speed, shaking his load loose, and making his bell jangle
loudly as he squealed and galloped.
Almost at the same moment the two pursuers grasped the mule's rein on
either side and drew their own, with the result that with the bell
ringing still loudly, three animals were going along swiftly close
abreast, but moment by moment becoming more and more under control,
Skeeter the calmest of all, for he acted as if he felt comparatively
safe with a stout cob pressing against each side.
The rest of the mules were still galloping, but Skeeter led, and his
behaviour began to influence his companions to such an extent that as
they grew farther from the object of their alarm the kicking and
plunging gradually subsided. The effort of going full speed under loads
generally carried at a walk began to tell, and at the end of half-a-mile
all were under control and following their bell-bearing leader, till
Skeeter was checked, no serpents were in view, and the controllers of
the wild race sat panting upon their mustangs, ready to round up any
mule which made a fresh start, and every living thing panting from their
late exertions, the bipeds eagerly calculating the damage that had been
done.
"Sit fast," cried the doctor, "and be ready in case they make a fresh
dash. Griggs! Chris! splendid; but keep fast hold of that bell-mule's
rein."
"Got him tight, father," cried Chris.
"Same here, doctor," panted Griggs. "He'll have to leave his head
behind this time if he tries to make a start. Say, Squire Ned," he
continued to the boy, who now joined him, "you were grumbling about
having no adventures. What do you say to this for a regular red-hot
one, quite noo out of nature's oven?"
"Oh, I don't know," cried Ned excitedly. "Do you think the rattlesnakes
will pursue us?"
"No that I don't, my lad; but I say, doctor, just look."
The leader was already gazing back over the ground they had covered, to
see that it was dotted with packs and various odds and ends sent flying
from the mules' loads, from a tin cross-handled kettle to bags of meal
and a great elongated roll which represented the tent.
The doctor groaned, for there lay the scattered objects in sight, while
how many lay beyond his ken he was afraid to think.
Of course he felt that they could be collected again, and that they were
not of a nature to have suffered much damage, but it would probably be
the beginning of another stampede to force any of the animals back along
a track infested by serpents, and a task that would try the nerves of
the stoutest of them seeing how horribly insidious was the danger, when
the lifting of a bale might mean the incurring of a deadly stroke from a
hidden foe.
In all probability no reader of this ever encountered a mule team
represented by so many sets of four legs, a head, and tail, and a body
hidden by the load secured upon the backs of the owners of the legs by
means of cords tied with what a mule-driver calls the diamond-hitch.
The reader has also probably never seen a mule dissatisfied with the
load it has been called upon to bear, and doing its best to shed the
same load. Every one is aware of the brute's kicking powers, but in
this respect it is at its best when, plunging and flinging out its legs,
it squeezes itself up tightly within its skin and tries its best--worst
would be the proper term--to shoot itself out through the diamonds of
rope which form the hitch.
Griggs had secured most of the loads that day, and he had done well; but
all did not stand the strain, and the appearance of the mules standing,
hanging of head, stamping, twitching their ears and whisking their tails
to get rid of the flies, was painfully ludicrous.
Skeeter, as became him, being leader, and, thanks to the way in which he
had been checked, was the most reputable-looking of the team, for others
were horrible. Here stood one mule with his load resting upon the sand,
the animal striding across it, head and fore-legs in front, hind-legs
and tail behind, and nothing upon its back but tightened ropes.
A little farther on was one which had shed its load and stood with
drooping head, looking as if it had been ornamented with a tangle of
rope.
Again, not many yards away was another snuffling and nuzzling at the
sand, which it blew aside now and then with a snort which raised a
little cloud--doing all this under difficulties, being nearly
overbalanced by its load, which had slipped over till it bulged straight
out from its side. Another sat up like a cat, being held in position by
its pack, which had slipped over its tail, while again another had
kicked till it went down upon its nose, kneeling, so to speak, with its
hind-quarters high up, and its load like a pair of panniers resting upon
its neck.
"What a horrible confusion!" cried the doctor, and he was going to say
something more, but his words were drowned by Skeeter, who had evidently
been surveying the wreck of the train and the dismal condition of his
companions, especially that of the one farthest off, which had tried to
roll its load off till it had been brought up short by getting its legs
perpendicular to paw the air--being unable to get over to right or left,
consequent upon the two packs thoroughly wedging it up, so that its
razor back resembled the hull of a boat whose keel was fitted in the
chocks, the pawing legs looking like so many motive masts.
All this seemed to be too much for Skeeter, who stretched out his neck
till his muzzle was in a line therewith, literally shed tears, opened
his mouth, distended his nostrils, and with ears quivering, emitted the
most startling sound ever heard. It was not a neigh like his mother
would have given, nor a bray such as his father would have uttered, but
a hoarse yell made up of the most discordant elements of both, and it
was no wonder that the doctor's voice was drowned.
"Be quiet, you brute!" he cried angrily, making a pretence of kicking it
in the pack; and then he stared in wonder, for it seemed as if a fresh
misfortune had affected one member of the expedition in a peculiar way.
That member was Chris, who suddenly dropped his hold of Skeeter's rein,
and with his face horribly distorted, began to roll about in his saddle.
"Oh, Griggs!" he gasped. "Ned! Somebody! Hold me on."
"What is it, boy?" cried the doctor--"Bitten?"
"N-n-n-n-no, father," he panted. And then, "Oh dear! Oh dear! I--I--
I--I--I can't help it. I--"
There were other words, but they were confused and strange; but though
they did not convey in words the meaning of the seizure, they pointed
out what was the matter. For it became evident that Chris was laughing
wildly--madly--hysterically, and to such an extent that he had lost all
control of himself, and had hard work to keep in the saddle.
To make matters worse, the mirth proved contagious to such an extent
that Griggs sat looking at him, then at the mules, and back again, with
his mouth expanding into a broad grin, while Ned slid off his mustang
quietly, held on to the rein, and then lay down in the sand, to laugh in
the same uncontrolled fashion.
"Well," cried Bourne angrily, "this is a nice way to treat our
misfortunes!"
"I--I--I can't help it, father," panted Ned, and he laughed more than
ever, while Wilton's lips as he sat looking on began to quiver and then
widen out.
"Here, stop it, you two," he growled at last. "Come and help collect
the things."
"I--I can't yet," panted Ned, who laughed more than ever, till Wilton
gave the doctor and Bourne a sharp look, and then said aloud--
"Oh, let them laugh it out; but I say, are those some of the
rattlesnakes coming after us?"
"Eh?" cried Ned, who was sobered in an instant, and sat up to exclaim,
"Which way? Whereabouts?"
"I--I--I can't help it if they do come," gurgled out Chris. "Oh,
father, plea-please stop me; it hurts. Gi-give me something--a drop of
water."
"Yes, the boy's quite hysterical," said the doctor. "Water. Ah! Where
are the kegs?"
All looked round, but no kegs were visible. There was the mule that
should have borne them, though, with the rough pack-saddle upon which
they had been lashed one on each side, twisting its head round and
striving to reach a fly that was busy at work depositing its eggs in the
animal's coat, the teeth being not long enough to scrape it out.
"Why, the water-kegs have gone!" cried the doctor wildly.
"Here, catch hold of the mule, somebody," cried Griggs, and Chris was
sobered in an instant, for the water represented life to all, and it was
no time for laughing then.