CHAPTER XVII.

ON GUARD.

Bob's first impulse was to run to his prostrate friend, and with a

knife he quickly severed the cords by which Ben was bound. Angry as

Ben was, he did not speak, but instantly leaped to his feet and stood

with his companions peering eagerly at the body which could be seen

upon the roof of the tent.

The fire had burned low, but still threw out its long shafts of light,

and in the shadows the animal seemed to assume fantastic shapes. The

boys were all alarmed, and to their distorted vision the visitor was

apparently of large size, and every moment they expected to see him

spring from the tent. He had not moved since they had rushed out from

the tent, and though he uttered no sound he seemed to be crouching as

for a spring.

"It's a bear," whispered Bert.

"No, it isn't a bear; it's a panther," replied Jock, in a whisper as

tremulous as that of his friend had been.

The suggestion was in no wise reassuring, and for a few moments the

boys stood and watched their strange visitor, ready to dart into the

woods at the first sign of new danger. The animal, however, had not

stirred, and was still crouching upon the roof.

"If I only had my revolver, I'd fix him," said Ben.

"Where is it, Ben?" whispered Bob, eagerly.

"In the tent there. I say, fellows," he continued, "if you will keep

his attention off to one side I'll crawl in and get the pistol. Can't

you throw some sticks or stones at him, or poke him with a long pole?

While you're doing that, I'll creep round to the other side and get

into the tent. He won't see me if you keep him busy."

The suggestion of a pole met with no favor, but sticks and stones were

more practical, and selecting a short club as a weapon of defence in

case of an attack, the three boys drew off together a little farther

into the woods and then began to throw the missiles at the crouching

animal.

As their aim was poor they added shouts to their other "weapons," and

soon the camp was ringing with their calls, though the animal did not

move and seemed to be alike fearless of their missiles and wild cries.

Ben, meanwhile, had crept stealthily around to the farther side of the

tent, and when the uproar of his companions rose to its highest point,

darted quickly into the tent, secured his revolver and then ran out

again with a celerity which his friends might well have envied.

Possessed of his weapon he called to the boys, and as soon as they had

joined him he stepped nearer the spot and cocked his pistol. He could

still see their visitor in the same attitude and place where he had

been when first discovered. The camp-fire flickered and the trees

moaned under the night wind. The wash of the waves upon the pebbly

beach was the only other sound to be heard, unless the rapid beatings

of the hearts of the boys were audible to others besides their owners.

"Don't move, fellows," whispered Ben, as he slowly raised his revolver

and took aim.

His warning apparently was not needed, for not one of the boys moved

from his place. Each was intently watching that crouching form upon

the roof, and waiting for the report of the revolver, which should

either put an end to their suspense by killing the animal, or bring

upon themselves the rush of an angry and perhaps wounded beast.

The suspense was not ended when the first report of Ben's pistol broke

sharply in upon the stillness of the night. From all appearances they

thought the animal had not been hit, but as he showed no disposition

either to advance or retreat, Ben quickly raised his revolver again

and two shots rang out in quick succession.

"Look out, Ben, you'll hit the tent," whispered Bob, made somewhat

bolder by the continued failure of the animal to move.

Ben then fired the remaining cartridges, and to the delight of his

companions, they saw their enemy roll from his place on the tent and

fall with a thud upon the ground. There was the sound of a struggle

for a moment, and then all became still again.

The boys waited anxiously, and at last Ben said, "I hit him! I hit

him! He's dead, fellows. Go on and see what he was."

[Illustration: "Bob took a long stick and poked the motionless form."

_Page 213._]

As no one seemed to be quite willing to respond to the appeal, Ben

himself thrust a long torch or broken limb of a tree into the fire,

and then, holding in his hand the blazing branch, at the head of the

column advanced to view the fallen foe.

They approached carefully and cautiously, Ben explaining that

"panthers sometimes lived a long time after they were dead," and soon

they could see the motionless body before them. Holding the torch in

one hand and his reloaded revolver in the other, Ben stood ready to

shoot at the first returning sign of danger, while Bob took a long

stick and cautiously poked the motionless form.

His actions produced no response, and then, concluding that their

enemy was indeed dead, they came nearer and soon stood looking down

upon their victim. A closer inspection revealed the fact that it was a

much smaller animal than they had thought it to be, but none of them

had ever seen one like it before.

As Jock leaned down to touch it with his hand, he suddenly drew back

with a cry of pain, and instantly his companions darted from the

spot. As they were not pursued, their courage revived, and once more

they returned to inspect the body of the strange animal. He was dead

now, that was evident; and satisfied as to that fact, Bob declared

that he was going back to bed.

"We ought to keep a guard to-night, though," suggested Bert. "Perhaps

these animals hunt in pairs. I've heard of panthers that do."

"That's all right; we'll have a guard," replied Bob. "Ben's the one to

do it."

"Me? Well, I guess not! Say, who fixed me that way?" he suddenly

inquired, his anger evidently returning at the thought of the wrongs

he had suffered.

"Well, I did," drawled Bob, "if you really want to know."

"What did you do it for?"

"To make you see the point. When I'm lecturing on the early

discoverers of the St. Lawrence, I don't want you to go to sleep. I'm

not doing it for the fun of the thing. It's duty, pure duty; I want to

teach my benighted countrymen something about the heroes of this

region."

"Nobody asked you to," replied Ben, half laughing, though he was still

angry over his wrongs. "If I'd invited you to speak or paid for the

privilege that would have been another matter. Where did you get the

stuff, Bob? Out of an almanac or the cyclopædia?"

"Out of my head. By the way, Ben, what made you yell so when you woke

us up?"

"Yell? Well, perhaps you'd keep quiet when you opened your eyes in the

night and saw a wild beast crawling over the roof of the tent and

ready to spring upon you and devour you. Then when I tried to move I

found some one had tied me hand and foot."

"Your voice was free. Your lungs seemed to work all right," suggested

Bob.

"They might not, though, if it hadn't been just as it was. When I

tried to raise my head the string choked me, and I couldn't use my

hands to help me, either. That was a dangerous thing to do, Bob. I

don't believe in practical jokes. Why, do you know, I thought at first

I was having the nightmare; but when I saw that great beast there, I

knew I was only too much awake. No, Bob, you'll have to be the one to

stand guard to-night."

"Makes no difference to me," drawled Bob. "I'm entirely willing."

It was evident that the other boys were as willing as he, and after

Ben had given him his revolver, and all three had bestowed upon him

many cautions and much advice, he was left to himself.

Bob waited until the sounds that came from the tent indicated that all

within were asleep, and then he coolly entered, and selecting his own

blanket and pillow, returned with them to the fire.

Before spreading them upon the ground, he stopped for a moment and

seemed to be thinking intently upon some matter. The result of his

deliberations became apparent, when he placed both blanket and pillow

carefully behind one of the trees in a spot where they would not be

seen by any one in the camp. Then he returned, and, cocking the

revolver, advanced to the front of the tent.

Lifting his arm, as if he was aiming at the distant sky, he suddenly

opened his mouth and emitted some screeches that might have made an

Indian chief envious, and at the same time began to dance about and

discharge the revolver.

"Hi! Yi! Yi! Hi! Yi! Yi!" he shouted.

The din caused by his unearthly cries, punctuated by the rapid

discharge of the revolver, brought the startled inmates instantly to

the door.

"Hi! Yi! Yi! Hi! Yi! Yi!" repeated Bob, dancing about with increased

vigor, and at the same time discharging the last remaining chamber of

the revolver as he beheld his frightened comrades.

"What is it? What is it, Bob?" exclaimed Ben, breathlessly.

"Did you see anything?" added Jock, equally excited.

"See anything? No, I didn't see anything," replied Bob, slowly.

"What! You didn't see anything?" demanded Bert. "What did you make all

that racket for, then?"

"Did I make any racket?" inquired Bob, in his most innocent manner.

"Didn't you really see anything?" said Jock.

"No-o-o. I didn't see anything. But I'll tell you, fellows, I was

afraid I might. I thought it might be just as well to scare away any

prowling beast that might be near. Did I disturb any of you?" he

innocently added.

"Oh, no, you didn't disturb us," said Ben, sarcastically. "We just

came out to see if you were all safe yet."

"It's fearfully lonesome out here, fellows," drawled Bob. "Don't one

of you want to sit up with me awhile?"

"Not much we don't," replied Ben, as he darted into the tent again,

followed by the other two boys. "We'll leave you alone in your glory."

"Well, wait then till I load up again," said Bob, as he, too, entered

the tent. "Where's the cartridge box, Ben?"

"Over there on the table," replied Ben, lazily. "Help yourself," he

added, as he turned over upon his side.

Bob evidently did "help himself," for he not only filled the empty

chambers with cartridges, but he slipped the box also into his pocket.

When he returned to the fire, he spread the blanket upon the ground

once more and carefully adjusted the pillow.

"If I've got to stay on guard I might as well do it in style," he

murmured, as he stretched himself upon the blanket, and was soon

sleeping as soundly as his friends in the tent.

He did not sleep so long, however, for about once in every half hour

he rose, and taking his stand in front of the tent he repeated his war

dance, punctuating it with the sharp reports of his revolver and his

ear-splitting shrieks.

In vain the boys begged of him to permit one of them to relieve him of

the task, but Bob remained obdurate. "No, sir," he declared. "I'm

doing my duty! I'm not going to let one of those St. Lawrence panthers

into this camp to-night if I know myself. I'm going to protect you, no

matter at what cost to me."

And so there was not much sleep in the camp that night, though it was

likely that Bob enjoyed as much as any one, for between his efforts to

frighten away the "prowling panthers," he slept on his blanket before

the fire.

Perhaps the excitement of the night caused the boys to sleep somewhat

later than usual on the following morning, for Bob, who was the first

to awake, was roused by the voice of Ethan.

"What ye sleepin' out here for?" demanded the boatman in surprise.

"That you, Ethan?" drawled Bob, as he opened his eyes. "Oh, that

reminds me," he added, as he hastily leaped to his feet, and grasping

the revolver, rushed up to the front of the tent, where he repeated

his frequent performance of the night.

"What ye doin' that for?" demanded Ethan, in astonishment.

"Keeping the wild beasts away. Ethan," he added solemnly, "we've been

attacked. A fearful beast leaped on our tent in the night, and tried

desperately to tear it into pieces and get at us to devour us."

"Hey?" demanded Ethan, sharply.

"Yes. That's just what he did," repeated Bob, as the boys came out of

the tent and joined him. "But we managed to shoot him."

"Ye did, did ye? Well, where is he now? Show me yer beast."

Bob silently led the way to the spot where they had left their victim.

Ethan looked sharply for a moment at the body, and then with a snort

of contempt, said, "Pish! Nuthin' but a hedgehog!" and Tom, for the

first time our boys had heard him since their arrival at the camp,

laughed aloud.

Camping on the St. Lawrence; Or, On the Trail of the Early Discoverers · 第 17 / 32 章