The Hunters of the Ozark

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  A STRANGE RIDE.

  When the boys had eaten their fill, there was a quantity of meat left.This was cooked still more over the coals, wrapped about with thegreenest leaves that could be got, and then packed in the bundle whichTerry Clark strapped to his back.

  "There's enough of the same," he explained, "to presarve us from pinin'away with starvation, which reminds me now that I promised ye that I'dshow ye the properest way in which to bring down a buffalo."

  "I'm willing to wait until some other time," said Fred, who feared therewould be dangerous delay; "I am more anxious to get forward than I am tosee you make an exhibition of yourself."

  "It will not take me long," replied Terry, who was sure there could beno miss where the animals were so plentiful, while of course the delayought to be slight.

  "If thim Winnebagos that we obsarved last night have started this way,they ain' t any more than fairly goin', which puts thim at the laastcalculation a dozen good miles behind us; they won't walk any fasterthan we do, so we'll git to the camp a long ways ahead of 'em."

  "All this sounds reasonable, but you know we have learned that they arenot the only Winnebagos in these parts; but then they are under the eyeof Deerfoot and he would give us warning."

  "That sittles it, as I previously remarked some time ago, in token ofwhich we will shake hands on the same."

  The Irish lad had made such an enjoyable meal that he was in the highestspirits. He extended his hand to his friend and shook it warmly, as hewas inclined to do for slight cause.

  "Now stand still, obsarve, admire and remimber."

  And with this high flown counsel, Terry with his gun in position beganmoving toward an enormous bull. The latter really was not so close tohim as was a cow, but he thought it beneath his dignity to spend hisammunition on such game as had served for their dinner.

  Although Terry Clark's natural love of humor often led him to assumewhat he failed to feel, he was hopeful in the present instance that hewould be able to carry out the little scheme in mind. He knew that theweapon in his hand was a good one, and he was already so close to thebuffalo that he was sure of bringing it down at the first fire.

  While he was willing to admit that Fred's shot could not have beenimproved, so far as effectiveness was concerned, yet he was in earnestin his intention of firing at the head. He knew that no animal is of anyaccount after its brain has been perforated, and it seemed to him thatit was more appropriate for a true sportsman to bring down his game bythat means instead of firing at its body.

  Terry made a mistake from which his experience on the border ought tohave saved him. Had he driven his bullet into the eye of the buffalo, hecould have slain him, but he was almost certain to fail by firingsimply at the head. It would have been far better had he followed theexample that his companion set.

  The bull upon which he had cast his eyes was about twenty yards from thewood. He did not raise his head until this distance was diminished byone half. Just then a cow showed some alarm of the approaching figureand walked hastily away. This caused the bull to throw up his head andstare at Terry.

  "Obsarve!" called the latter to his friend, who began to feel uneasyover the appearance of things.

  A dozen spears of grass seemed to be dripping from the mouth of themagnificent bull, who glared at the figure of the young man in the actof leveling his gun as though he had some curiosity to know what wasgoing on.

  Terry aimed at the head, making the part between and above the eyes histarget. This was probably the most invulnerable spot of the animal.

  The bull was still staring at the intruder, when the latter, aiming atthe point named, fired. The bullet struck the bony ridge at the upperpart of the head and glanced off into space, inflicting no more realinjury than a paper wad.

  But the impingement of the lead must have given the stupid brute an ideathat harm was meant. His anger was roused, and, dropping his head with asavage bellow, he charged the young hunter at full speed.

  This was giving the matter an unpleasant turn, but there was no time toargue, and flinging his gun aside, Terry gave the finest exhibition ofrunning he had ever shown. No one could have realized better than did hethat the bull "meant business" and it would never do to allow himself tobe caught.

  Fred Linden himself was so startled by the sudden onslaught of theanimal that he was flurried and fired without taking proper aim. Hestruck him, but he was unable to check his charge: indeed he ratheradded to his fury. Stepping back, so as to shield himself as much as hecould behind the nearest tree, he began reloading his weapon with theutmost haste.

  Meantime Terry, by desperate running, reached the tree at which he aimeda few steps in advance of his formidable foe. He had no time to climbthe trunk, but believing the lowermost limb was within reach, he made aleap, seized it with both hands and swung himself out of reach, just asthe bull thundered beneath like a runaway engine.

  Finding he had missed his victim, the savage beast snorted with rage,wheeled about, came back a few paces and was passing beneath the limbagain, when a singular accident gave an astonishing turn to the wholebusiness.

  The limb which afforded Terry Clark his temporary safety was unable tobear his weight, and, while he was struggling to raise himself to theupper side and it was bending low with him, it broke like a pipe stemclose to the body of the tree.

  This took place so suddenly that the youth had not the slightestwarning. Indeed it would not have availed him had he known what wascoming, for the time was too brief in which to help himself.

  Down he came with the limb grasped in both hands and fell squarely onthe back of the buffalo bull. Fortunately the bewildered animal hadjust shifted his position, so that the lad fell with his face turnedtoward the head instead of in "reverse order."

  Even in that exciting moment Terry saw the grotesqueness of thesituation. His legs were stretched apart so as to span the animal justback of his enormous neck. Letting go of the branch that had played himthe trick, he grasped the bushy mane with both hands and yelled in avoice that might have been heard a mile away:

  "_All aboard! off wid ye!_"

  So far as a bull is capable of feeling emotion, that particular specimenmust have been in a peculiar frame of mind. He glared about him, hereand there, turned part way round, as if the whole thing was more than hecould understand, and then as his bulging eyes caught sight of theremarkable load on his back and he felt the weight of the burden, he wasseized with a panic.

  He emitted a single whiffing snort, and flinging his tail high in air,made for the other side of the prairie as if Death himself was racing athis heels. His actions were of that pronounced character that hisfright communicated itself to the rest of the herd. There was a generaluplifting of heads, and then, as the bulls and cows saw their mosteminent leader tearing across the prairie with a live boy astride of hisback, the sight was too much for them. A wholesale series of snorts andbellows followed, tails were flirted aloft, and away the whole herdwent, fairly making the ground tremble beneath their tread.

  By the time the alarmed Fred Linden had his rifle reloaded there was nota buffalo within a hundred yards of him. The one that bore his friend onhis back was making as good time as the fleetest and was well toward thehead of the drove. The panic began like an eddy of the sea; there was asurging of the animals toward the other side of the prairie and awaythey went, as I have said, with their tails and heels in the air, as ifthey meant to keep up their headlong flight for twenty miles, as issometimes the case, when an immense drove become stampeded on the greatplains of the west.

  Whatever feelings of amusement might have been first aroused by thefigure that Terry cut on the back of the terrified bull were lost in thedreadful fear of Fred that it would prove a fatal ride for his friend.

  He could see him plainly for a fourth of a mile, but by that time thetrampling hoofs raised a dust in the dry grass which partly obscured theherd and made it impossible to distinguish the figure of the ladclinging to the mane of his
novel charger.

  "He will fall off," was the exclamation of Fred, "and will be trampledto death by the others."

  He recalled that the bull must have been wounded by his own shot, butthat knowledge gave him concern instead of relief; for if the bullshould give out, he would be trampled by those who were thundering soclose at his heels.

  The buffaloes did not preserve the open order which marked them whenthey were grazing, but crowded together, so that their backs looked likebrown dusty waves, rising and falling rapidly from the motions of theirbodies.

  Fred quickly recovered from his astonishment. He had reloaded his gun,but when ready to fire, was afraid to do so. Too many other buffaloesinterposed between him and the bull, and had he discharged his weapon,he would have been as likely to hit Terry as to wound the brute that wascarrying him away with such speed.

  Running to where the rifle of the boy lay, Fred picked it up, hastilyreloaded it, and started after the herd. He broke into a loping trotsuch as an Indian shows when hurriedly following a trail. He kept hiseyes on the fast receding animals, his interest being now centered onthe moment when they should reach the wood on the other side of theprairie.

  "It will be the death of him if they dash among the trees," he thought;"for he will be struck by some limb and have his brains dashed out."

  But such a catastrophe did not take place. The fleeing animals must haveknown that their headlong speed could not be kept up among the trees andundergrowth; so, when those at the head of the drove were close to theedge of the wood they swerved to the left, and the others followed withthe same furious swiftness with which they had sped across the open.

  Fred Linden at this time was not a third of the way across the prairie,and he stopped and viewed the sight. He could distinguish the animalsmuch better than when they were tearing straight away from him. Theyran, so to speak, from under the cloud of dust that had obscured hisvision, which, sweeping backward, left all in plain view.

  What he saw, too, showed that the buffaloes possessed varying rates ofspeed. A dozen were well to the front, still crowding close together,while the rest, also in close order, were strung along at differentdistances. Still, they were so far from Fred that his view was any thingbut satisfactory. Shading his eyes with his hand, he peered through theautumn air in the search for his friend.

  "There he is!" he exclaimed, but the words were hardly out of his mouthwhen he saw he was mistaken. The distance was too great for him to seeclearly.

  "How long will this keep up?" was the question which he would have beenglad to answer, for it included the fate of Terence Clark. If his steedshould grow weary and fall behind the others, possibly he would give hisrider a chance to leap to the ground and make off; but the likelihood ofthat taking place was so remote that Fred could feel no hope.