THE TERROR IN THE AIR.
"Do obsarve where the trail comes down to that big bowl?" asked Terry,
pointing to the huge, circular cavity below them.
"Of course."
"Well, that's a mistake; _that isn't the right trail_."
Fred turned about, and jumped and ran back to the Devil's Punch Bowl, at
a rate that threatened his neck. Stooping over, he carefully examined
the path. He saw that his companion was right; the trail which they had
followed to the edge of the stream was one that had been worn by animals
in coming to and going from the Punch Bowl. You will admit that no
better punch in the wide world could be furnished the dumb beasts than
that which was thus freely given to them.
As if to confirm that which did not need confirming, a large buck at
that moment appeared in the path, within a hundred feet of where Fred
had straightened up, after examining the trail. He threw up his head on
catching sight of the young hunter, gave one quick, inquiring stare and
then whirled about and was off like a flash.
Fred Linden could have brought him down at the moment he wheeled had he
chosen to do so, but he recalled his own proposition to Terry some time
before, about firing such a shot. Indeed, since they had some of the
cooked buffalo steak left, there was no call to use any more ammunition
for game.
Terry Clark came laughing down the rocks, looking upon the whole
business as one of the funniest of incidents, but to Fred it was any
thing but a laughing matter. Time was becoming of the utmost value, and
this divergence from the trail meant delay--a delay, too, whose length
could not be guessed. If they had turned aside several miles back, it
was more than likely that they would lose all the advantage gained by
the laborious travel of the night before.
"How could we have made such a blunder?" asked Fred, his eyes wandering
back over the path, as though searching for an explanation of the
mistake; "I suppose at the point where the trails cross the direction
isn't changed much and this is more distinct than the other. Terry, I
can't see any thing about this to laugh at."
"I don't obsarve much of the same mesilf," said the other, whose face
nevertheless was on abroad grin; "I wasn't laughing at yersilf, or the
mistake we made."
"What was it then that amused you so much?"
"I was thinkin' how funny it looked to see the deer and bears and
buffaloes and foxes and panthers all standing round that big bowl and
winkin' at each ither while they drank their health."
"Terry, there's going to be trouble because of this blunder."
"What do ye signify be the same?"
"I believe that all the advantage we gained by traveling so hard last
night is lost. When we follow this trail back until it reaches the main
one, more than likely we shall meet the Winnebagos at that point, if
they will not actually be between us and the camp in the Ozarks."
"I'm afeard it's not all a falsehood that ye are telling me," said
Terry, with an expression in which there was nothing like a jest.
"Let's be off then."
At this juncture the Irish lad made a proposition which his companion
accepted, for he thought it promised them much saving in time and
travel.
It was quite certain that the false trail followed pretty much the same
direction as the true one: at any rate there could be no doubt that it
crossed the stream which had stopped them, so instead of picking their
way back for several miles, they decided to keep along the edge of the
water itself until they struck the path.
To make sure of avoiding another blunder, one should have gone up and
the other down stream, for manifestly they could not be certain they
were above or below the true path; but each felt too strong a misgiving
about such a course. Their surroundings required mutual support.
Beside this, they were convinced that the trail which they wished to
recover lay above instead of below, so that, when making their way they
were not held back by any doubt, though each could not fail to see that
it was only a piece of guess-work.
Fortunately for their peace of mind, they were right, and the plan saved
them much time and travel. They had not gone very far, when they came
upon the path, marked so distinctly that there could be no possible
mistake.
The width of the stream was about the same as below. The water was
smooth, deep, clear and sluggish. The bank sloped gently down from each
side and on the other shore were plainly seen the prints of the hoofs
where the animals had left the water. It was so deep that whoever went
over there had done so by floating or swimming.
The crossing was so far above the point where the cascades began, that
nothing was to be feared from them. The clumsiest raft could be ferried
over by a child before it would drift into danger, while in case of
swimming, the peril was still less.
"If it wasn't so chilly," said Fred, "I would propose that we swim the
stream."
Terry shivered and shook his head.
"We must go over on a raft; it is not only cowld, but is gittin'
cowlder."
"There's a storm brewing; it looks as black as ink off yonder."
At this moment the boys made a discovery which both pleased and alarmed
them. Such a float as they needed was at their call. There lay a half
dozen logs and trees fastened together by several withes, and with
enough buoyancy to bear them to the other side. Even the pole to be used
in propulsion lay upon the heavy timbers that were pulled just far
enough against the bank to prevent them floating off with the current.
While it was pleasant to know that they would not have to go through the
labor of constructing any thing of the kind, yet there was a cause for
fear in the presence of the structure which led them to hesitate several
minutes before using it.
It proved that some one had crossed from the other side upon it, while
the withes were so white and fresh at the angles, where they were
twisted open, as to show that the raft had been made but a short time.
The natural question was as to who could have been coming from the other
way.
"I know," said Terry, compressing his lips and shaking his head.
"Who?"
"Winnebagos; they're so plintiful that it couldn't have been any one
ilse, for they wouldn't have had a chance."
"I suppose you are right," remarked Fred thoughtfully, "for they do seem
to be almost everywhere, though I can't understand why they should be
coming this way."
"Suppose there was but one of the spalpeens, and he'd been out on a
scout, and was on his way back to the rist of the spalpeens with the
news, would it be onraisonable to think he would take a little pains to
kaap his leggins and moccasins from gittin' damp enough to give him
cowld?"
"Well, I can think of no better reason than that, and am willing to
believe it is correct, but don't you see, Terry, that all this goes to
prove that we have lost a dangerous amount of time? We ought to have
been many miles further on the road than we are."
"The buffalo bull had a good deal to do with our impolite tarryin', and
as he is slaapin' with his four mithers, I maan his forefathers, let him
rist in pace."
The boys did not allow their words to delay their hands. The raft was
shoved clear, and the two took their positions upon it, Fred holding the
pole, while his companion looked after the guns. They were astonished to
find, directly after leaving land, that the pole, which was nearly
twenty feet in length, would not reach bottom.
This compelled them to use it as a paddle. The progress was slow, but
the distance was so slight that it did not take them long to reach the
other bank, where they set the structure adrift, so that it could not be
used by any one else.
Looking directly up stream, where the sky was in plain sight, its
blackness startled even the boys, who were used to seeing the most
violent changes of temperature. The hue was not of the dark blue which
often gives warning of the coming tempest, but there was a greenish
tinge to the blackness that would have awed any one.
While they looked, a zigzag ribbon of flame fluttered across the
darkened portion, accompanied by a crash that seemed to shiver the
earth. Fred Linden, who happened to be staring straight at the fiery
burst, saw the upper part of a large cypress that leaned over the water,
leap from the trunk as though it had been sawn short off and flung into
the water.
It was all ablaze, and, falling upright into the current, kept its
equilibrium, that is, it did not fall to any side, but swept slowly
downward as upright as when on the tree, and suggested that some giant
as big as the Statue of Liberty was walking beneath, with an enormous
torch held above his head to light his path.
"Did ye iver see the like?" asked Terry.
"No; it is wonderful."
[Illustration: "Did ye iver see the like?" asked Terry.]
Although it was about mid-day, the heavens were so overcast that the
gloom was like night itself. At the same time the darkness had a ghastly
tinge which made the faces of the boys, when they looked at each other,
livid and unearthly.
The scene was so impressive that they stood motionless, watching the
flaming tree and the inky heavens beyond. Suddenly in the sky they saw a
figure that resembled a vast balloon slightly inclined to one side, and
spinning on its axis with inconceivable swiftness.
At the bottom the snout-like appendage wavered off to one side as though
the amazing velocity of the upper part was twisting it loose. A similar
formation appeared a few minutes after a short distance behind.
And now began the most extraordinary exhibition of all. Imagine two
whirling balloons, a hundred feet in height, and so black that they
stood out from the surrounding gloom, showing like pitch against the
dimly lit sky behind. They began a witches' waltz in the firmament,
sometimes leaning far backward, then dancing forward, as if saluting
each other, then "balancing," then dancing up and down, then so far away
from each other that one would pass out of the field of vision, soon to
reappear, however. At times they seemed as if about to rush into each
other's arms, and then they coquetted away again and resumed the weird
dance in the skies.
You understand that I am trying to describe one of those terrible
visitations of the west known as a cyclone. Little was heard of them a
century ago, and the balloon to which I have compared the form of the
ghostly dancers, was unknown to the lads, who watched the exhibition
with an interest that was not turned into terror, as it would have been
to-day, by the knowledge of the awful power for death and destruction
that lies within that concentration of electricity in its most fateful
form.
It seemed a long time that this strange scene lasted, though it could
not have been many seconds. Suddenly, while the balloon-like forms were
saluting each other, they rushed together. There was no shock
perceivable when they met, but there were vivid flashes from within the
murky folds, as the heat lightning sometimes plays among the clouds at
the close of a warm day.
Having met, the forms engaged in a wrestling bout. Round and round they
spun with the same bewildering swiftness, leaning far to one side, as
though about to fall, and all the time whirling with such speed on the
one spiral leg that it seemed unable to keep pace with the bulkier part
above.