DICK'S FIGHT WITH A PANTHER
"I've always noticed, Ned, that when everything looks simple and
easy, it is a good time to expect trouble."
"Not this time, Dick."
But it was this time, and that night Ned had his last care-free
sleep for weeks.
"How long shall we camp here?" asked Dick.
"Better stay here for a week or two. We can hunt in the woods back
of us and explore all these bays. This may be the last fresh water
we will find on the trip, so we don't want to leave it till we are
ready to pull straight through to Myers."
In the morning the boys started across the woods on the bank of the
stream, hoping to find a buck on the prairie beyond them. When they
reached the prairie they saw three deer near its farther end, about
half a mile away. They went back in the woods and started to work
their way around the prairie to its farther end where the deer were.
It took them some hours to get where the deer had been, only to find
that they had gone. They saw them again on a smaller prairie and
once more tried to get near the creatures by creeping through the
woods. When the hunters were as near the game as they could go
without getting out of cover the animals were yet a hundred and
fifty yards distant. One of them was a fine buck and Ned watched it,
rifle in hand, for many minutes, hoping it would come nearer. As the
deer fed they sometimes came nearer and his hopes rose, only to sink
into his boots when they turned away. At last he gave up waiting for
a better chance and fired. The buck threw up his head, looked around
for a moment and trotted quietly away, entirely unharmed, followed
by the other deer.
"It isn't our day, Dick," said Ned, ruefully, as he watched the
disappearing animals.
"Here goes for something to eat, anyhow," replied Dick, as he
dropped a curlew that was flying over them. After broiling and
eating the bird, together with some hoe-cake which they had in their
pockets, the boys resumed their hunt for deer. They saw several more
during the afternoon, but ill luck followed them and they finally
set out for camp empty-handed.
As the boys were passing through a thick clump of trees on the bank
of the river, about two hundred yards from their camp, Ned was
suddenly held back by a clutch on his shoulder, and turning his
head, saw Dick's face upturned and his eyes fixed on the large
branch of a big tree just before them. As Ned looked upward he saw
the form of a huge panther, or mountain lion, crouching upon the
limb and apparently about to spring upon him. The animal was within
ten feet, every muscle was tense, his long tail was waving slowly
and Ned stood motionless, charmed by the living beauty of the beast,
until he heard Dick's whisper in his ear:
"Shoot, Ned!"
The hypnotic spell was broken and Ned slowly raised his rifle to his
shoulder, while the panther crouched lower and waved his tail more
quickly. In another second it might be too late, and once more Dick
whispered:
"Shoot, Ned! Quick!"
The bullet struck the beast and the next instant Ned was knocked
down by the body of the brute. He was unharmed, however, for Dick
had jumped between them and it was in Dick's arm that the panther's
teeth were set and Dick's shoulder and side that were being raked by
its cruel claws. In an instant Ned's clasp knife was being driven
into the body of the beast whose throat Dick's hand was clutching in
a feeble effort to keep from his face those long, sharp fangs.
Bullet and knife had done their work and the panther was dead. But
Dick was unconscious and covered with blood which was flowing from
deep gashes in his arm and a side that was torn from shoulder to
waist. Ned half carried and half dragged the unconscious Dick a few
yards to a level piece of dry ground and examined his wounds. Bad
as they looked, there was no spouting of blood from an artery, or
heavy flow from a large vein. With simple bandaging and care the boy
would get well, and Ned's relief was so great that he was almost
happy. He removed what the panther had left of Dick's shirt, which
was sodden with blood, and tearing off his own, bandaged the wounds
from which blood was still flowing. He then filled his cap with
water from the river and sprinkled Dick's face, but failed to bring
him to consciousness. He was wondering what next to try when Dick
opened his eyes and smiled weakly.
"Did he hurt you, Neddy?"
"No, he didn't hurt me, thanks to you, Dicky boy. Now I'm going to
bring the camp here, in the canoe. Can you get along without me for
half an hour?"
"Sure. Don't forget Tom."
Ned didn't forget Tom. He thought so much of him that he took his
rifle with him when he went to move the camp. For he was without a
shirt and was stained with Dick's blood and therefore very doubtful
how the lynx would behave. But Tom merely sniffed at him and when
the canoe was loaded stepped aboard as coolly as if his passage had
been paid for. When the canoe landed at the new camping ground Tom
took a few steps toward Dick and then suddenly sprang into the woods
and away, as if witches were after him. Ned was surprised at first,
but remembered that Tommy, the Seminole, had once said to him:
"Wildcat eat 'coon, panther eat wildcat," and he ceased to wonder
why Tom had run away.
Ned stretched the canvas over Dick, built a camp fire, got out a
clean shirt for himself and tore up another for bandages. He washed
Dick's wounds, which had ceased to bleed, with warm water and soap
and put fresh bandages on them. After he had gathered a lot of moss
and made a soft bed for the invalid, he picked up Dick's gun and
walking a few steps down the river bank, shot a curlew that sat on a
branch by the stream and was young enough to make a broil or stew
for the invalid.
"Been breaking the law, have you, Neddy?"
"I'd break anything, to get you some nice chicken broth such as I am
going to make now."
At daylight Ned saw that Dick was sleeping quietly and taking the
shotgun started out in search of a breakfast suited to a sick boy.
When he returned, an hour later, he had a brace of ducks, a little
brown Florida rabbit and a 'possum. Dick was awake when he returned
and when offered his choice of the game for his breakfast chose all
of them. Ned stewed the rabbit and broiled a duck, giving Dick a
little of each, but the 'possum looked fat and greasy and he kept it
for himself.
"Dick," said Ned after breakfast, "shall I roll that beast into the
river, or do you want his skin?"
"Want it, of course. I've got no hard feelings against him."
"Want him skinned for mounting or a rug?"
"Rug, I guess. Think I'll enjoy walking on him."
The big cat was nearly eight feet long, including his tail, and was
so heavy that Ned found skinning him a hard job. After he had
finished he had to cut a stout stick for a lever, before he could
get the carcass into the river. The bad luck of the hunters seemed
to have run out, and game began to come to them. Ducks flew over the
river beside the camp and plovers often lit on a bank near them. Ned
went out for deer and came back in an hour with half a buck on his
shoulders. When he approached the camp he saw Dick sitting up and
tossing bits of hoe-cake to a 'coon that was watching him with some
suspicion from a distance of three or four yards.
"You ought to have seen him, Ned. I had him half tamed. He took
little bits of wet hoe-cake that I threw him and rolled them up into
balls with his funny little hands before he ate them. In an hour
more I'd have had him eating out of my hand."
"He'll come back to-morrow, Dick. You've got a way with you that
wild things understand."
"It's only that I really love them and they know it."
The 'coon did come back the next day while Ned was out exploring the
bay in the canoe and, although he did not eat out of Dick's hand, he
came within a few feet of him and showed very little fear. When Ned
returned, the 'coon scrambled to the top of a little tree and looked
down on the boys in a friendly way. Day by day the 'coon became
more intimate with Dick, even to eating out of his hand, but always
scampered away when Ned came back. On the third day, as Ned came in
from an exploring trip, instead of the 'coon he found his old friend
Tom, the lynx, sitting beside Dick with the air of a trained nurse.
"Bully for you, Tom; I'm glad to see you back," said Ned.
"I'm not glad he's come back, the murderer. He has killed my 'coon."
"You remember what my Indian said. 'Panther eat wildcat, wildcat eat
'coon.' Shall I shoot him, Dick?"
"Shoot Tom? Well I guess not. He didn't know any better. I'm awful
sorry the 'coon has gone, but I'd hate worse to lose Tom."
"How did it happen?"
"I was feeding the 'coon, and had just put out my hand to rub his
head when he jumped in the air and started for that tree like a
streak of lightning. He never got there, though. Something was after
him like two streaks of lightning. I didn't know it was Tom till it
was all over. That wasn't very long, either. If there had been any
time I'd have had Tom by the ears or tail and taught him a thing or
two."
"Glad you didn't have time, Dick. I'm afraid Tom might have taught
you a few things. Don't you think you had better get over what one
cat has done to you before you tackle another?"
"But Tom isn't that kind of a cat, Ned. I'm not afraid of his
hurting me much. He might scratch me a little at first, but he'd be
sorry for it, soon as he had time to think it over. Wouldn't you,
Tom?"
"Cats are cats, Dick, and I don't think it's safe to leave you alone
with that wildcat. You are too weak to help yourself if he really
tackled you."
"But he won't attack me. So what's the use of talking about things
that aren't going to happen? You are a good boy, Neddy, but you've
got your limitations and you can't appreciate Tom."
[Illustration: "THE COON SCRAMBLED TO THE TOP OF A LITTLE TREE"]
Ned spent much of his time coddling the invalid. He paddled out in
the lakes and among its keys. He explored the waters and the woods
and brought Dick wild grapes with much character and cocoa plums
with little; sea-grapes with juice that had the taste of claret and
the color of blood; figs, of which Dick said: "De breed am small,
but de flavor am delicious"; wild sapadillos that were sweet as
honey, but chewed up into a solid ball of soft india rubber; and
mastic berries that were delicious to the taste, but stuck like a
porous plaster to the roof of the mouth. He got out the rod and
caught mangrove snappers from under the banks and sheephead from
their hiding places among sunken logs and snags. He dove for turtle
that he never got and hacked at young palmettos for buds that he did
get.
Days followed days and though Dick grew better he didn't grow
strong. Ned got anxious and told his chum that he was going to take
him to a doctor. Dick laughed and said:
"You are my doctor. I've great confidence in you and don't care to
make a change."
"Glad to hear it. Your doctor, in whom you have such confidence,
desires to consult with his brother physicians in Fort Myers
regarding your case, and you will light out with him to-morrow."
The next morning a little canoe with a cat couchant in the bow, a
young invalid comfortably reclining amidships and a husky youth in
the stern started down the river and into the salt-water lakes. The
first day's run was a short one and the camp was made on a bit of
high ground covered with thin grass and shaded by a group of
palmettos. It was bordered about with cocoa plums and sweet-smelling
myrtle, on one of which flourished an orchid, the vanilla bean,
which made heavy with its fragrance the whole camping site.
"But there lurked a taint in the clime so blest,
Like a serpent coiled in a ring-dove's nest"--
and as Ned stood dazed by the enchantment of his environment, he was
brought to earth with a jar by the whirring of rattles almost under
his feet. Every muscle of the boy was tense with excitement as he
stood motionless, knowing that death, in a horrible form, was within
striking distance of him. The strange, paralyzing music of the
dreaded "King Snake" of the Indians seems to come from all sides
and until the threatened victim can see the reptile the motion of a
hand may be fatal. The seconds seemed minutes to Ned as he waited
and watched, waited and watched, before he saw the fascinating,
dreadful, gently swaying head and the lightning play of the forked
tongue within easy striking distance.
[Illustration: "HE SAW THE GENTLY SWAYING HEAD AND THE LIGHTNING
FLAY OF THE FORKED TONGUE"]
He felt that if he jumped, the snake, so much quicker than he, would
sink the glistening white fangs of that wide-open mouth deep in his
flesh before he could get out of reach. He compelled his quivering
nerves to hold steady while he slowly, inch by inch, moved away from
the coils of the angry reptile. When Ned was six feet from the
rattlesnake he sprang back and stood, almost fainting, quite out of
reach of the reptile, which continued to wave its head and jar its
rattles, but with less passion. The boy had often been told never to
leave a rattlesnake alive and he looked around until he found a
stick about five feet long, with which he returned to the field of
his fright. The rattler had uncoiled and was creeping away when Ned
rushed up and struck at him. The snake coiled like a flash and
striking back, sunk his fangs in the stick within a foot of the hand
of the boy. Again Ned struck, and the snake returned the blow, both
of them missing their marks. Then the stick fell on the coils of the
reptile and the back of the rattlesnake was broken. After a few
finishing blows Ned dragged the six-foot creature by the tail to
the bank and was thrusting it into the water when Dick called out:
"Don't you want to save the skin?"
"Don't want to save anything to remind me of it. I never expect to
get the frightful sight of the open jaws and white fangs of that
beast out of my dreams."
Dick rested in camp the next day with the lynx, while Ned explored
with the canoe, looking for the head of some river of the west coast
that led to the Gulf, or for enough dry land to serve for a camp.
Every water course that he followed, sooner or later closed up on
him. He paddled four miles to the west through a long bay, only to
find that there was no outlet on the western end, excepting a narrow
creek which he followed until he could drag his canoe no farther. He
followed floating wisps of manatee grass, freshly torn up by the
roots, hoping to find the manatee which had spilled them, that he
might follow him to a channel which would lead out of the
wilderness. He discovered the manatee and was nearly swamped by the
first dash of the frightened creature. Then he lost track of the
animal after a long chase among the innumerable keys of the
so-called Ten Thousand Islands, and found that he was himself lost.
He paddled until it was dark and for an hour after that, when he
gave up hope of finding his camp that night.
He had a map of the country in his brain, but that was for daylight
use only. He was hungry, and that was nothing; but he was parched
with thirst from his long labor, and that was everything. He had
seen no dry land during the day, and it was hopeless to look for it
at night. It was never easy to keep the canoe balanced; if he dozed
for an instant he would certainly roll it over. He had made up his
mind to sentry duty for the night when through the darkness there
came to him a gleam of light from a far-distant fire. As he
approached, it brightened and sent up a crackling flame, in the
blaze of which Ned saw the tall palmettos of his camp.
"Were you worried, Dick?" he asked after the first warm greetings
were over.
"I sure was. I thought you couldn't get lost and wondered what had
happened to you. Tom was uneasy, too, and I reckon he is out looking
for you now. He went away in a good deal of a hurry. I made a
lighthouse out of those palmetto fans that you cut for my bed, just
on the chance of your having lost your way."
Tom came home about daylight and lay down beside Dick, where he
grumbled and growled as if he were a man with a next-morning
headache.
When daylight came and Ned began to bestir himself, he missed the
cheery "Good-morning" of his companion, who was not able to lift his
head from his pillow of palmetto. His wan smile went to Ned's heart,
and the boy had to busy himself with the fire to hide his emotion.
Every hour of that day he watched over the invalid, and from time
to time tempted him with bits of broiled bird, heron soup and sips
of hot tea made from leaves of the sweet bay. Ned's acquaintance
with sickness was slight and his apprehension great, so that the
night was a sleepless one and the day that followed brought no
relief to his mind. Another day brought new anxieties. Dick was no
better, and Ned couldn't bear to leave him, for the invalid's thirst
was continuous, but now the supply of fresh water was running low,
and a trip back to the river was imperative. He put the bucket, with
what water was left, beside Dick's bed and said:
"Dick, boy, I've got to go for some water. I'll have to be away a
few hours, but I'll get back the first minute it is possible."
Dick put out his hand, and his smile was cheery, though his voice
was weak as he said:
"Don't you worry, Neddy. I'm all right for all day. I don't need
anything but amusement, and Tom will 'tend to that."
"I'm afraid to leave a big wildcat with you when you are so weak. I
am going to take Tom with me."
"Don't do it, Neddy. He'd only be in your way, and I do want him for
company. You don't understand Tom; he likes me and I like him.
Please don't take him away."
"Of course I won't take him away, Dick, boy, but you will have to be
very good and keep cheerful and get strong and well to pay me for
leaving him."
Ned's apprehensions made the day a hard one for him. He was afraid
of capsizing the canoe and being unable to get back in it. He
imagined a tarpon jumping into it, a shark swimming against it, or a
porpoise smashing it. When he reached the river of fresh water he
carried the canoe up on the bank and tied it to a tree while he
walked along the river bank and shot a few tender young birds for
the nourishment of the invalid. His nerves were so unstrung that he
feared to go far lest he lose his way, and was even apprehensive of
failing to find on his return the camp where his companion was
awaiting him, although the path to it was plain as a pikestaff.
Ned's meeting with Dick was a joyful one, for the boy was clearly
better and his voice stronger, although his first words were:
"Don't go away again, Neddy. You've been gone a year, and I thought
you were never coming back."
By careful economy the five gallons of water which their can
contained was made to last as many days for the three of them, for
Dick insisted that Tom must share the rations of food and drink of
the other members of the family. Each day Ned made a little trip
around the keys nearest the camp by way of doing the marketing for
his family, and returned when he had shot enough birds for its daily
needs. He was happy in the thought of the invalid's increasing
strength, but dreaded the necessary trip for fresh water. Dick
surprised him by bearing the separation with cheerfulness, and his
voice was so much firmer and his strength so obviously on the mend
that Ned began again to plan for his return to civilization.
On one of his marketing excursions Ned saw a skiff containing two
men about a quarter of a mile distant. He waved his hat to the men
and paddled toward them, but they rowed away. He followed, but was
unable to find them, and concluded that they were outlaws, who did
not care to extend their acquaintance. After this he paddled about
on the lookout for some one who might help him to carry Dick to the
outside world, for he had given up the idea of attempting it by
himself.