CHAPTER III
LOST IN A MOUNTAIN TORRENT
"Hang together if you can. Crowd close in behind me!"
Had all obeyed the orders of young Butler they might have escapedwith no serious consequences, but in the excitement of the moment andswallowed up in the darkness of the night in Smoky Pass, the boyswere quickly separated. One had pulled this way in fighting with hispony, another that. Even Professor Zepplin had been carried into acove far on the other side, for at this point the stream hadbroadened out considerably.
All at once Tad felt his pony lifted from its feet. The animal beganto swim. To lighten the burden the boy slipped off, taking a hitchof his rope about his waist, securing the rope to the pommel of thesaddle. It was now a case of every man for himself and trust to luck.
"Are you there?" he called to his companions.
"Ya--yassir," answered Billy Veal.
"Are you there?" again demanded Tad at the top of his voice.
He heard a shout in reply, the shout seeming to come from far downthe stream. Then Tad was caught in a wave and swept along with thecurrent, clinging desperately to the saddle. There was no need totry to swim. He was traveling fast enough without attempting to goany faster. Every little while the boy would shout for hiscompanions. Only twice was he able to catch a reply from any of theparty.
"I am afraid they're lost," groaned the boy. Even the familiar"yassir" of Chops was no longer to be heard. Billy Veal haddisappeared, and for all Tad knew the guide had been drowned. Nowand then a tree or a heavy trunk would graze the body of the lad.Lightning was still flashing at intervals, but the storm was passing,and already a faint streak of light might have been observed roofingthe narrow opening over Smoky Pass.
All at once Tad found himself enveloped in a new darkness. Somethingseemed to have caught his head in a vise-like grip, and he lostconsciousness. Though Butler did not know it, a heavy piece of timberhad been hurled against him, striking the lad on the head. The ropethat had been secured about the boy's waist slipped up under his armsunder the added weight put upon it. Tad's head drooped, but not farenough to permit the water to cover it. Then on swept boy and ponythrough the swirling flood, the pony fighting, the boy passive.Another pony bumped into Butler's horse, but Tad did not know of thecollision.
How long he had been unconscious, Tad did not know, but it could nothave been for very long, and when he returned to consciousness hefound himself literally hanging at the side of the pony. The animalwas standing dripping and trembling, but, as the Pony Rider Boyquickly discovered, the horse was on solid ground. The roar of theswollen stream was still in Butler's ears, but he was no longerbattling with the flood. The night was still so dark that he couldnot see the water, though overhead he saw the stars twinklingbrightly.
Tad spoke to his horse. The animal whinnied its appreciation, andTad patted it with a feeble hand. The boy was still too weak to domore than lie back, breathing hard, and exerting every bit of willpower that he possessed to pull himself together.
"This won't do. I'll surely shake to pieces if I remain here," hemuttered.
With a great effort he pulled himself up and released himself fromthe rope.
"Hello!" called Tad with all his strength.
There was no response.
"They've gone! I hope they aren't drowned, but I am sure somethingterrible has happened to them. How I wish it were light so that Icould see what I am about."
Taking the bridle rein in one hand, Tad began feeling about in thedarkness. He learned that the pony had dragged him up to a narrow,sandy strip of land at the base of the wall. The ground was wet,indicating that the water had but recently receded from it. Thisproved to the boy that the crest of the flood had passed and that thewater was rapidly going down.
"There's little doubt that it was the crest that struck us. But thequestion is, what hit me? I don't suppose it would help if thatquestion were answered. The real question is, what has become of mycompanions?" he muttered.
There was nothing to be done just yet, though Tad decided to try thecreek very soon. This he did after half an hour's waiting. By thattime his pony had recovered itself sufficiently to warrant Butler inclimbing to the wet, slippery saddle. How cold it did feel underneathhim, but the heat of his body soon took away this unpleasantsensation.
Tad boldly forced the pony into the creek. To the boy's relief thewater barely touched the stirrups.
"Now if I don't fall into any pockets in the creek, I'm all right. Idon't know whether the others are below or above me, but I'm goingdown a piece and if I find no one, I'll turn about and come back."
Every few moments Tad would shout. At last there came an answeringcall.
"Who are you?" cried the lad joyously.
"Chunky!"
"Chunky?"
"Yassir, nassir," answered the fat boy.
"Where are you?"
"I'm where the little boy was when he was chased by a bulldog--up atree."
Riding over toward the voice, Butler found this to be literally true.Stacy had grabbed at a limb that had struck him in the face, and thenswung himself up to the limb, permitting his pony to go on where itwould.
"Take me down," begged Stacy.
"Where are the others?"
"I saw Jonah go by me just after I landed from my ark."
"Who?" wondered Butler.
"Chops."
"But the rest of them?" urged Tad.
"I don't know anything about them. I've had all I could do to lookafter myself, and don't you forget it. Where have you been?"
"Up the creek a way. What became of your pony?"
"I don't know. I tell you I've been busy. It wasn't any fun to hangto this limb, not knowing at what second it was going to break andlet me down into the water. I reckon that would have been the end ofStacy Brown. Then the papers at home would have had something totalk about. 'Our distinguished fellow townsman, Stacy Brown, carriedaway and lost in a flood in Smoky Pass in the Blue Ridge.' Soundskind of romantic, doesn't it?"
"You have about as much feeling as a turnip," remarked Taddisgustedly. "The others may be drowned. I wish you had your pony.I don't know what I am to do, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave youup there while I go and search for the others."
"What? Leave me up here in this tree?" wailed Chunky, changing histone instantly.
"Yes."
"No you don't! My death will be on your head if you do. Don't youever accuse me of not having any feeling, if you go away and leave metreed like a coon at bay."
"I suppose I'll have to take you, but the pony's pretty well playedout and so am I. Here, give me your hand."
In trying to make the pass from the limb to the pony, Stacy fell intothe water with a splash and uttering a yell. He thought he was goingto be drowned, but was surprised when he found that the water did notreach far above his waist. The pony, frightened by the splash,leaped to one side, nearly unseating its rider.
"You're a lumbering lummox," rebuked Tad.
"So are you. If you hadn't been, you wouldn't have let me fall. Areyou going to help me get up?"
"Yes. I will get down and walk. You may ride if you want to. I'mnot going to ask the pony to carry us both."
Chunky reflected over this for a moment. Tad slipped down into thecold water.
"Get up there, and mind you don't let my pony get away," orderedButler.
"I won't!"
"You won't what?"
"I won't get up."
"I got down so that you might."
"I'm not that kind of a tenderfoot and you ought to know it by thistime. No, sir; I don't do anything of the sort. Get back there andride your own bundle of bones."
"I prefer to walk," answered Butler briefly.
"So do I, and I'm going to."
Neither would get into the saddle, so they very stubbornly startedsplashing along beside the pony, each with a hand on the bridle tosave himself in case he stepped into a hole in the stream.
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Tad continued calling until his voice gave out, but got no reply fromanyone.
"Come now, you yell for a while," he urged.
"What shall I say?" asked Chunky innocently.
"Say? I don't care what you say. Make a noise. That's all. I wantto find the rest of our party."
"I'll bet Chops is alive. But isn't he the Jonah?"
"I hadn't thought about it," answered Tad briefly.
"You will when you get calmed down a little. You're excited now,"declared Stacy Brown.
"I'm nothing of the sort," protested Tad indignantly.
"Oh, yes you are. You don't know it, that's all," insisted the fatboy.
A sharp retort rose to Tad's lips, but he suppressed it. There wasno use in arguing with Chunky, who was bound to have the last wordand that last word always did have a sting in it. At present therewere more important matters on hand. Soon after that Tad's hello wasanswered by one a short distance down the pass. Contrary to hisusual powers of voice, Chunky had not proved much of a success inyelling.
The new voice turned out to belong to Ned Rector. Ned and his ponyhad found a strip of land on which they had taken refuge. It was aglad Ned, too, when he discovered his companions.
"Have you seen anything of Walter and the Professor?" asked Butleranxiously.
"I think they are below here somewhere. I am sure it was they whoswept past me just after we got caught in the eddy back there."
"How about Jonah?" asked Stacy.
"Who is Jonah?"
"The Jonah who claims to be a guide, but who ought to be in astrait-jacket."
"He means Chops," laughed Tad.
"I don't know that I care particularly what has become of him,"growled Ned.
"Oh, yes you do, Ned. He is a human being just the same as you orI," rebuked Stacy.
"I suppose that's so, but the question is open to argument and a widedifference of opinion. I think the Veal Chop stayed upstreamsomewhere, though he may have gone on downstream. If he did, Ididn't see him go, nor hear him. Come to think of it, it seems to methat I did hear him yelling behind me after I started on my swim forlife. Talk of going through the Rapids of Niagara! I don't believeyour swim in the Grand Canyon was any more exciting than this onetonight. It was daylight then," said Ned.
"Yes," agreed Tad.
"Oh, wait till I get hold of that guide! What I won't do to him--"
"It will be my turn first, Ned," interrupted Stacy.
"What happened to you, by the way?" questioned Ned.
"Oh, I got left up a tree, just like the alligator bait down inFlorida. Do you know how the colored people catch alligators downthere?"
"In a woodchuck trap?" questioned Rector quizzically.
"Na-a-a-a! I'll tell you for your information, if you don't know.They take a little colored baby and tie him either to the limb of atree that hangs over the water, or else fasten him to a longpole--one that will bend--then lower him over the water. Heyells--could you blame him? The 'gators, hearing the yell, and maybegetting a whiff of the kid, come up with open jaws with appetitesthat would break a hotel. No, they don't get the little culludperson. They get a chunk of lead right through one eye and usuallythat's the end of Mr. 'Gator. The tiny cullud person is removed fromthe pole and the deed's done and everybody's happy ever afterwards."
"A very likely story!" observed Ned scornfully.
"Very," agreed Tad. "We had better be getting downstream to look forthe others."
Ned refused to get off and walk, so he rode ahead of them to soundthe bottom of the stream. Day was just breaking when they cameacross the Professor and Walter Perkins, both sprinting up and downon a sandy beach to start their blood into circulation. So ludicrousdid the two look that the boys shouted. They could well afford toshout now that all of their party were accounted for, with theexception of the guide, whom they had little doubt they should findlater safe and sound.