EXCITEMENT ON THE RIVER.
The Banded Seven were having a first-rate time just then. In the first
place, they were returning in triumph from a daring venture, about
which to tell the angry cadets next morning was a delight to look
forward to. Then, besides, Master Dewey had hit upon a scheme for
their edification. Indian, the fat boy, so Dewey vowed, was taking up
more room and sinking the boat more than anybody else. It was only
fair that Indian should be made to row. That terrible sentence was now
being carried into effect, and poor Indian was in the last stages of
perspiration and exhaustion, when the shores of the river echoed with
the shouts of encouragement from the others.
It was because they were making so much noise that they did not at
first perceive the excitement that was taking place on shore. They
heard the roar of the train as it came through the tunnel, and they
watched it whirl from the station and around a bend in the river. But
Smithers and his circus hands they did not observe for a long time
after that. They were too busy exhorting poor Indian.
By the time that buffalo had been in the water some ten minutes,
however, the crowd had increased in number to a mob, and then all the
Banded Seven’s hilarity could not drown their shouts. The rowing
stopped abruptly, and the plebes turned in surprise and alarm to stare
at the spectators who lined the shore, just barely visible in the
half-hidden moonlight. And a moment later a loud snort and a splash
was heard in the water very near them.
Mr. Smithers’ buffalo had not quite calculated on the size of that
river, and he was beginning to get tired. He dared not go back to the
shore, and so when he made out a black object in front he made for
that in a hurry. The object was the Banded Seven’s boat!
The state of mind of the latter may be imagined. They saw the crowd;
and they heard them shouting warnings to “Look out!”
“It’s something from the circus!” cried Mark. “Something’s got away!”
“Row for your lives!” roared the people on the shore.
All possibility of that was gone, however, for the simple reason that
the rower, the timid and terrified Indian, had dropped his oars into
the water, leaped up from his seat and began to howl. The others,
uncertain as to what the rapidly approaching animal could be, only
added to the excitement. Texas at the first shout had hauled out a
huge revolver and was standing in the bow with a desperately tragic
air ready for anything in the whole realm of nature.
“Oo-oo!” howled Indian. “It’s the elephant!”
That caused still more alarm, so that the heavily-weighted old boat
began to ship water rapidly. But just then the suspense was ended by
the moon’s appearance from behind a cloud; that showed them the huge
buffalo, a sight by no means comforting, even if it was better than an
elephant run amuck.
The bull was a huge one even if he was thin; he swam with his head way
out of the water, tossing his shaggy mane angrily. Having been hunted
and shouted at for some time, the ugly beast was beginning to get mad
now, and his little eyes were gleaming.
When he saw the boat and its crowd he turned and started away with all
his might; for he saw in them only new enemies trying to capture him.
At that the plebes sighed with relief, you may readily imagine. They
were helpless prisoners on that boat, and if the bull had come for
them they would have been in danger. The danger was past now.
There was one factor, however, that the Seven had not counted on. They
forgot that they had a wild Texas cowboy on board, a cowboy with
“sporting blood” and a tendency to hunt for excitement. Nobody had
been watching Texas since that bull hove in sight. Nobody saw that he
was dancing about, his fingers twitching and his eyes sparkling.
Nobody had seen him thrust the revolver into his belt and begin
fumbling about his waist.
Nobody saw him fling his favorite “rope” to the breeze and begin to
whirl it about his head. The first inkling they had of any danger was
when to their indescribable horror they saw the noose sail through the
air, hovering and twisting; saw it settle comfortably about the huge
beast’s neck; and saw the mighty Texan yank it tight with a whoop of
triumph.
Things happened after that. Those on shore could not make out just
what, though the moon was still bright, but they saw the occupants of
the boat rush forward into the bow and a moment later saw the boat
whirl around and set out down stream in pursuit of the buffalo,
seemingly propelled by some magic hand.
It was exciting for the Banded Seven. The bull was wild with fury, and
was plunging through the water at a great rate. Texas had wrapped the
rope about the bow, and was playing his fish something after the
fashion of the lineman in a whaleboat. As for the boat itself, it was
mostly under water, splashing and plunging dangerously. But Texas
didn’t care for that; he only yelled the louder and scared his
prisoner into still greater exertions.
The others who were not quite so much infected with the excitement,
looked to see their heavily-laden boat founder any moment. Mark even
went so far as to inquire who could swim, a question which set poor
Indian (who couldn’t) into howls; Indian was sure that his time had
come; that the others (who could) would go off and leave him to perish
beneath the gurgling black water. He took a preliminary hold on the
Parson’s coat tails to make sure that he was not deserted.
The interesting trip did not last very long, however, for the simple
reason that the buffalo got tired. His speed relaxed, and finally he
stopped entirely and turned around to glare at the boat and his
captors who were in it. Texas, without a word, removed the rope from
where he had fastened it, and calmly proceeded to haul the animal in.
He didn’t pay a bit of attention to the remonstrances of the others,
whose aim it was to keep the creature away; Texas was managing this,
he told them, and he was going to finish that job if he had to drown
the buffalo and them, too.
Nearer and nearer came the savage beast, bellowing furiously, churning
the water all about him, and shaking his head like an angry pickerel
might do under similar circumstances. There was never a fisherman
cooler than Texas, however, and there were few of them ever caught a
stranger fish.
Texas was handicapped, however, by the fact that though he had plenty
of strength to draw his prize to him, he had none to keep it away. And
the whole business failed because of that. When the bull got within a
few feet of the boat he lowered his head and made one more dash. This
time he rushed toward the boat instead of away, and he met with more
success.
The Seven scattered to the bow and stern when they saw their danger;
an instant later one of the sharp horns of the enraged creature struck
the side and crushed through the wood with a snap, keeling the boat
over and sending its occupants flying through the air. And that was
the last the shouting spectators on the shore could see, for the
clouds swept over the moon again, and nothing was audible but the
hoarse bellows of the buffalo and a few smothered cries from the
water.