THE BUFFALO STAMPEDE
FAR away, it seemed as though the whole surface of the prairie was in
motion. To the right and left the boys had seen the same bewildering
sight. Roger failed to comprehend what it meant, and turned to his
companion for an explanation.
"What is it, Dick?" he called out.
"Buffaloes--one of those great herds we've been told about, and which
stretches as far as the eye can reach!" the other replied.
"But will they come this way; and ought we saddle up so as to be ready
to make a run for it?" Roger continued; not because he was timid, but
that the sight of that endless, heaving mass of moving animals had
impressed him strongly.
"Yes, I think we should," Dick replied. "If the storm comes along
after them, and starts a stampede, as they call it, we would stand in
danger of being trampled under ten thousand hoofs. No one could ever
tell what had become of us. So let's roll up our blankets, and get the
horses; quick, Roger, because they're heading in our direction, and
coming right along."
Indeed, even as they brought the snorting horses in, and started to
fasten the loads on their backs, the rumble had increased to a steady
roar, so that it seemed to Roger he could actually feel the ground
vibrate under the pounding of those myriad of hoofs, as the heavy
animals galloped toward the river.
Whenever the lightning flashed, and this was more frequently than
before, with peals of thunder following, both boys found themselves
compelled to shoot quick glances of both curiosity and alarm toward the
advancing peril. And what they saw was a sight never to be forgotten.
It was like the border of a troubled sea, that tremendous line of
moving animal life, heaving and tossing, and coming steadily on like a
dust cloud impelled by the wind. As yet they could not distinguish the
units comprising this immense whole; but it was easy to imagine them,
for both boys had shot buffaloes before now, and knew what they were
like, though they had never looked upon a herd of more than half a
dozen at a time.
"Oh! there must be millions in that lot!" cried Roger, when a
particularly vivid flash came, that showed them the whole level stretch
covered with the advancing horde as far as their eyes could reach.
"Too many for us to stay here, and try to divide!" Dick answered.
"How lucky that you noticed where the trees grew along the river," said
Roger; "because that will be our best chance, don't you think, Dick?"
"Yes, and the sooner we're off the better," was the other's answer.
He knew that their horses must still be tired from the long journey
of the day before, and, laden as they were, might not be able to run
as swiftly as under other conditions. Just how fast that avalanche
of shaggy forms could advance he had no means of knowing. If further
frightened by the flash of lightning, and the crash of thunder, a
stampede of the herd would mean that the bison would come on the full
gallop, madly seeking to find shelter from the howling blast.
"Have we got everything, do you think?" asked Roger, ready to mount
his horse, which could hardly be held in hand, such was its terror at
the approach of this thundering mass of heavy beasts; it was as though
the intelligent animal understood the danger that threatened, and
wanted to be on the move.
"No matter, we cannot afford to waste another minute hunting for
anything now. Our lives are worth more than any other thing we possess.
Get in your saddle, quick, Roger; and be careful not to let the horse
throw you, or all is lost!"
The warning came not any too soon, for the fretful animal was jumping
and tugging at the bridle, trying the best it could to break away, so
that it might dash off, and keep a space between that approaching peril
and its fleet heels.
But Roger was a pretty fair horseman, and succeeded in mounting,
in spite of all the prancing of the steed. Then away they went,
helter-skelter, allowing the horses to have their heads.
They tried to keep as near to one another as possible. The one danger
Dick feared more than anything else was that one of the horses in this
headlong gallop might set his feet in a marmot hole, and bring about
disaster; for a spill in the face of the oncoming army of buffaloes
would mean that the unfortunate one must be trampled under foot,
whether his horse had a leg broken or not.
When first seen the buffaloes had apparently been simply galloping
steadily on, as though bent on changing their feeding grounds; but
Dick, turning to look with each flash, believed he could detect a
change coming over their method of advance.
This was doubtless caused by the increasing crashes of thunder that
sounded high above the steady roar of those tens of thousands of hoofs
beating upon the hard turf. In other words, as the oncoming storm
began to overtake the drove, their gallop was fast degenerating into a
stampede, when every animal would put on its best spurt, and, wild with
fear, seek to outrun the threatening gale.
Already the horses were doing their best, and it was folly to dig
one's heels into the sides of his straining beast, as Roger was doing,
seeking to obtain a little more speed.
And now both boys began to look anxiously ahead. Despite the best
efforts of the horses it seemed as though the leading buffaloes were
much closer to them than when the mad race had started; and this meant
that, unless they could manage to gain the shelter of the trees, they
were going to have a hard time of it avoiding disaster.
Already Roger had learned that his comrade had guessed true when he
said that the indistinct line along the horizon, seen just at sunset,
must be trees. They had become much more distinct by now, so that,
although but a fleeting glimpse of them could be obtained when the
lightning flashed, still that was enough.
And now the rain started to fall, but neither cared for that, if only
it did not interfere with their striking the timber belt at its nearest
point.
Probably neither of those boys would ever forget that wild ride, with
the thunder booming all around them; the lightning seeming to strike
here, there, and everywhere; the rain falling in a deluge that soon
soaked them to the skin; and, worst of all, that endless line of
galloping bison gaining constantly, as they were urged on by their
fright.
Once Roger's horse stumbled, and the boy came near falling, only
retaining his seat because he had firmly fixed himself there. His
heart seemed to jump into his throat with a sudden fear lest the animal
had lamed itself, and would prove unequal to the task of keeping ahead
of the oncoming herd.
But, so far as could be seen, the horse did not show any signs of
injury.
"Can we make it, Dick?"
It was necessary for Roger to shout, although at the time he could not
have been ten feet away from his companion. The combination of noises
all around them prevented such a small thing as a human voice from
being heard, unless strained to the utmost.
"Looks like it! keep up your heart, Roger!" was the cheery reply.
But, although Dick spoke in this manner, he was not so very sure that
the tired horses would be equal to the test. He almost hated to glance
backward now, for it seemed to him that the advance of that endless
line of pursuers must be overtaking them rapidly. Perhaps that was only
his fears magnified; but it impressed Dick disagreeably, nevertheless.
In vain he racked his brain to conjure up some means by which their
progress might be increased. Even if they could take the time
to detach some of the various packages with which they had loaded
their horses, it was doubtful if such a sacrifice would avail to any
considerable extent, and so Dick dismissed it as useless.
[Illustration: "WHEN THE THUNDER STOPPED BOOMING FOR A FEW SECONDS THEY
COULD HEAR THE ROAR OF THOSE COUNTLESS HOOFS BEHIND THEM."]
The best hope that he had lay in the chance that the trees might
be somewhat nearer than they believed to be the case, owing to the
impossibility of correctly gauging distances while the rain was
falling, driven by the wind, and the deceptive lightning held sway.
At any rate, all they could do was to hang on, and trust to good
fortune to carry them to safety. The horses were fully conscious of
their danger, and could be trusted to head for the river. Besides, Dick
kept his senses about him all the while, for he knew what it might mean
if he allowed himself to give way.
When the thunder stopped booming for a few seconds they could hear the
roar of those countless hoofs behind them. It had at least one good
element about it--it spurred their horses on.
Had it been daylight, or even a clear, moonlight night, Dick might have
managed to alter his course so as to strike the trees at some point
nearer than the one the frightened horses were aiming for. But in such
a storm one could only keep straight ahead, and trust to luck for the
rest.
Roger, for once at least, had no suggestion to make. True, he looked
backward at times as though almost ready to turn at bay, and face that
rolling mass of tossing black horns and shaggy heads; but the folly of
such a thing must have impressed itself upon him immediately, for he
kept beside his companion throughout the entire ride.
His one bullet, even granting that it found a victim, would have
counted no more than a grain of sand on the seashore. And after he had
fired his bolt the end must have overwhelmed him instantly; for that
resistless tide would sweep on, and every object in its path would be
blotted out of existence.
It seemed to Roger that his nerves had reached a point where they could
stand no more. And then he heard Dick give vent to a loud shout, not
of new alarm, but with a ring of triumph in it; and surely never did
the sound of human voice break upon the ears of Roger Armstrong with a
sweeter cadence than when he grasped the tenor of what his companion
was calling:
"The trees, Roger, the trees are at hand! Keep it up for five minutes
more, and it will be all right!"