CHAPTER XXIII
THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE AIR.
Coroner Huffman was quickest to act. His rifle was leaning against arock near by, and he snatched it up and took two shots at the flyinganimal before it disappeared. Apparently the panther was not hit.
But Mr. Miles was scarcely less active. Like a sprinter, he started forhis airship, twenty yards away, calling out:
"Come on, a couple of you. We'll chase him. Bring the guns."
There was a general race toward the aeroplane. The aviator leaped aboardand busied himself rapidly with the motor. As the rest lined up beforethe machine, Dr. Byrd said:
"Coroner, you and Hal get aboard. You have guns."
This being a logical suggestion, it was adopted by the two mentioned.They climbed into the cabin, the wicket was closed, and almost instantlycame the chug-chug of the engine and the great fan propellers began torevolve. A deep quiver, a few spasmodic jerks, and the airship startedforward, bumped over the uneven ground, and rose into the air.
The front and rear of the cabin were open except for the aluminum-barinclosures, and Hal looked back and waved his hand at the doctor and theother boys, who were executing various capers and cheering lustily. Thenext instant almost, the airship passed beyond the edge of the plateau,and pilot and passengers directed their vision to a search for themountain lion.
Mr. Miles called their attention to a port in the floor of the cabin andadvised them to make use of that, as well as of the ports in the sidesand the open front and rear. Mr. Huffman slid back a cover of the flooropening, two feet in diameter and protected with aluminum bars. Thenthey began an inspection of the mountain side as the ship circled aroundand around as close to the tree tops as was deemed safe.
They were not long in finding the fleeing animal. He was leaping withlong easy bounds, down the steep and craggy slope--too steep andirregular for a man to climb or descend. The aviator steered the aircraft right over him, and the coroner drew a bead on the cat through thefloor port. With the discharge of the gun, Hal looked eagerly at thebeast, expecting to see him tumble over, but he was disappointed.
"Blast the luck!" muttered the coroner, who was ordinarily a good shot."I don't believe I can hit him from the moving airship."
"Let me try it," Hal shouted above the noise of the propellers, havingread the meaning of the expression on the face of his companion.
The latter moved aside and the boy thrust the muzzle of his gun throughthe opening. Taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger, but with nobetter success. Even as the gun was discharged, he felt the difficultyof their hunt. To shoot a rapidly moving animal from a rapidly movingairship is no easy task.
Hal's shot, however, seemed to be the signal for an altering of thecourse of the fleeing panther. The latter evidently saw the source ofhis danger, and turned suddenly to the left and bounded over crags andthrough patches of fir and spruce to the southern side of the mountain.The pursuers flew after him, firing at the moving target every now andthen. Finally the beast landed on the ledge of the "mummy" from whichthe canyon took its name. There he halted a moment, looking upward at hisflying enemy. Another shot from Hal's rifle caused him to leap sosuddenly that the boy believed he had hit him; but if so, the animal wasnot seriously injured. He bounded on, down the very course by which theboys had ascended the mountain. Finally he stopped and gazed in apuzzled manner at the boulder that blocked his entrance through the roofof Kenyon Cave behind the Screaming Cataract, as recently named.
He stuck his head through the fissure beside the bowlder and seemedabout to leap when Coroner Huffman fired again. Possibly he was hit; atany rate, he drew his head back and bounded along the steep side of themountain to the left. Several rods he sprang in this direction; thendown, down he went with wonderful swiftness and agility, until hereached the new railing-bordered walk between Flathead and the river.This seemed to puzzle him a little, but he hesitated only a moment. Thenthe occupants of the airship were astonished to see the animal boundalong the walk, over the waterfall bridge and behind the cataract.
Quickly the coroner stepped close to the aviator and shouted:
"Fly back to the top of the mountain. We've got to have some lanterns."
Miles caught the significance of the suggestion and in a very short timethe airship had circled upward and over Flathead and alighted near theother boys and Dr. Byrd.
The purpose of their return was quickly explained, the lanterns weretaken aboard, and away they flew again. In a few minutes they landednear the head of the rapids in Mummy Canyon and then proceeded to crossthe first bridge and advance up the walk, with lighted lanterns, towardthe Screaming Cataract.
Mr. Miles was stationed outside with Hal's gun, to shoot the animal ifhe should spring past the other two, who crossed the second bridge intothe cave. Each of the latter carried a lantern and they advancedcarefully, flashing their lights as far ahead as possible.
Around the elbow of the cave they proceeded without catching sight oftheir quarry. Even in the farther chamber they were somewhat puzzleduntil by flashing their lights over the sloping wall, they perceived twoshining eyes high up near the bowlder that choked the upper exit.
Mr. Huffman set his lantern down and put the stock of his gun to hisshoulder. But even as he sighted along the barrel, the gleaming eyes haddisappeared.
"Look out!" yelled Hal. A horrible screech came from the blank darkness.Huffman raised his rifle and fired in the direction of the sound. Thethundering report of the gun almost deafened them, but shrill above eventhat came a second scream. The next instant Hal felt a big body catchhim between the legs. Down he went, his lantern flying from his hand andshattering against the rocky wall.
When he rose to his feet it was to see Mr. Huffman, lantern in hand,careering over the rock-strewn floor toward the mouth of the cave. "Lookout there, Miles!" he yelled as he ran.
Hal scrambled his way out as well as he could in the dark, expectingevery second to hear the report of Mr. Miles' rifle. Instead he heard ashout and then a cry of pain. As he came to the cave entrance he saw thecause.
Mr. Miles had been taken unawares. The lion had come hurtling at him attoo close range for him to use the rifle. Blinded perhaps by the suddenglare of daylight, the animal had charged full at him, and down Mileshad gone. There he lay at the very edge of the bridge, clutching at therailing with one hand, and holding the other over his stomach.
"I wouldn't mind, if he'd hit me anywhere else," he gasped, in mingledpain and laughter.
"Where's your gun?" asked Mr. Huffman suddenly.
"Where's the lion?" Miles asked in return.
"Do you think he swallowed it?" asked Hal with a chuckle. At that theyall gave way, as both Hal and the coroner had been aching to do, socomical was Mr. Miles' pain-drawn face.
"I'm afraid it must have been knocked over the falls," Mr. Miles managedat last to suggest. "He hit me pretty hard, and my game leg isn't anytoo strong--especially when the pesky animal tried football on me."
The gun was undoubtedly gone, and it must have fallen into the water.
"We'll have to come back and dive for it," added Hal with a sigh, for ina way he looked upon the rifle as his own. "That'll be fun for usScouts."
"I hate to have that lion get away," said the coroner regretfully; "butI suppose we might as well go back."
"Suppose I take you two to Lakefarm and then go back from there for therest," said Miles as they walked back toward the aeroplane. "It willsave time."
So it was decided, and the two were soon dropped at Lakefarm, where theywere awaited by an eager crowd of boys. Then Mr. Miles whirred backtoward the top of Flathead, soon to return with his first load. On thelast trip he brought back the body of the dead Maxwell and Dr. Byrd.
"Well, boys, we've had a pretty strenuous day--or days. I think that theBoy Scouts of the Air deserve a little holiday."
"The Boy Scouts _of the Air_?" asked one of the waiting group.
"Yes, the
Boy Scouts of the Air, of Flathead Mountain, with a membershipof five."
"Oh!" came a disappointed murmur from the rest.
"But I think we'll make the holiday general, and maybe the Air Patrolcan enroll some new members. So to-morrow we'll just scatter and enjoyourselves our own way." The shout that went up left no doubt that thedecision was popular.
"Three cheers for the Boy Scouts of the Air!" came from a score ofthroats as the doctor turned to go in.
"Rah for Doctor Byrd!" came from the five Boy Scouts of the Air inreturn.
CHAPTER XXIV
MOUNTAIN LION BRIDGE
"How you going to spend your holiday?" asked Bad of Hal the next morningwhen the two chanced to meet on the campus.
"Sh! Not so loud," was the reply. "I'm going to explore Kenyon Cave."
"But the doctor--"
"He said we could do as we pleased to-day. I'm going to see if I can'tget that gun again."
"And hunt the lion? But it's under the falls."
"I don't think it is. That lion hit Mr. Miles hard enough to knock himdown. That gun must have gone a-flying. Maybe it dropped in shallowwater. And the biggest part of the falls is on the other side anyway.I'll chance it."
"And we could take some grapple hooks--"
"We?" asked Hal.
"Sure. I'm going along. Suppose that lion'd show up--"
"Yes, suppose. What'd you do? Save my life by running away and gettingthe cat to follow you?"
"Never mind. You ran from it yourself the other day. You just watch mewhen we find it again. I'll--"
"Clout it in the jaw?" laughed Hal.
"I know where there's grapple hooks," Bad suggested. "I'll get them."And away he went, to return in a few minutes with a tangled mass ofcords and hooks stuffed under his coat. "Ready to go now?"
"Soon as I get a lantern. I hid one inside the hollow elm next to theroad. Come on."
So the two started out on their three-mile trudge, stopping to pick upthe lantern and a lunch that was likewise hidden within the tree."Divvies," said Hal generously as he shoved this into his pocket.
It was not long before Mummy Canyon was in sight. They crossed the bridgeand made their way slowly along the path toward the Screaming Cataract.Just before they came to the bridge they stopped. Bad sat down and beganto pull off his shoes and stockings, but Hal merely stood looking at thewater, that was boiling and foaming even along the shore.
"It can't be very deep in there this side the falls," he observed. "Thegun could easy have fallen right in next to shore. Of course it couldhave gone the other way, but that ain't likely, as the lion hit Miles inthis direction. If it did go toward the middle we'll never getit--unless we happen to grapple it."
"What you going to do? Try to grapple it first or dive?"
"Or wade if it isn't too deep. But first of all I'm going to take a lookinside the cave. I want to see if that rock is wedged in hard like itlooked from above."
"What for? Suppose the lion's in there!"
Hal laughed. "He got too good a scare in there yesterday to come backright away."
"But why not find the gun first? What good'll it do you if the rockisn't tight. Come on, I'm going in." And Bad continued taking off hisclothes.
"No, I'll cool off first. You go ahead. I'll go up on the bridge andshow you where the gun most likely fell." He gathered a handful of smallstones and standing on the bridge, began to throw them into the water,marking off a small circle that extended from the edge of the falls tothe shore. "It ought to be inside that."
"All right. Here goes," called Bad as he began wading away from thebank. "U-u-gh! it's cold. So deep," he added, ducking himself under tothe chin, pretending he had found a step-off--to come up to his waist aminute later.
"Call me if you find it," Hal said, after lighting his lantern with amatch, Boy Scout style being too slow just then. "I'll be with you in afew minutes."
He disappeared within the cave, and Bad continued wading out toward theedge of the fall, feeling for the gun with his toes. This was an easymatter, as the bottom was a firm sort of sand-mud, smooth and gentlysloping. The water deepened till it was up to his neck, but that wasall. Out under the falls it was doubtless many times deeper, but herethe thin trickle from above had not worn any hole.
"I guess I'll cut in toward the bridge," he said to himself, "and thenwork over along the bank." As he came under the bridge he stood there amoment, holding to one of the timbers, for at this point the undertowfrom the falls was rather strong.
As he stood there his mischievous spirit prompted him to play a trick onHal. Wouldn't it be a lark to climb up under the bridge and stretchhimself out along the timbers and wait there for Hal? What would hethink when he came out and found no Bad in the water? He had laughed atBad's scare when the plank tipped, that night when Kenyon Cave wasdiscovered. Here was a good chance to get even.
So Bad wormed himself up one of the posts, and after a good deal ofsquirming found himself a firm and fairly comfortable resting placewhere two bracing timbers formed a V-shaped bed. Right above him was alarge knothole, within a few inches of his eyes. He lay there and waitedsome time, his only view the tumbling water just beneath, and above, aknothole sight of the cliff and a patch of blue sky.
Once he was tempted to call, but waited. Then, above him, on the boardsof the bridge, he heard a quiet footfall. It sounded like bare feet;perhaps that was why Hal had been so long--he had stopped to undress.The footfalls ceased. Bad fancied he heard a curious sniffing noise,that kept up till it got on his nerves. What could Hal be doing thatwould make such a funny noise! Bad tried to look through the knothole.Only blue sky and gray cliff could be seen. But still that sniff-sniffkept up.
Putting his mouth to the knothole, he drew in his breath and then "Wow!"he shouted.
But the answer was not what he expected. A low snarl came in reply, andthe snarl was too animal-like to have come from Hal. Bad almost fellfrom his perch in his sudden fright. Again he put his eye to the hole,but jerked back with a scream. A cold, damp something had touched hisface, and that something he knew instinctively was the muzzle of ananimal.
Perhaps it was this thought that made him lose his balance. At any rate,almost before he realized it, he had toppled out of his seat and intothe water. For an instant he floundered, then struck out, under water,to get as far away as he could. He did not stop to reason that theanimal, whatever it was, would hardly attack him in the water; he merelywanted to get away.
Then suddenly he stopped and came to his feet. His hand had strucksomething solid. It felt not unlike the branch of a tree or a stick--ora rifle barrel. It was standing straight up in the water. For a secondhe groped about, then struck it again. With a feeling of triumph hegrasped it and gave a tug that freed it from the mud. It was the rifle.
Then he looked toward the bridge. There, its teeth bared in a snarl, wasthe mountain lion of the day before. It was not crouched, but stoodthere, its head going from side to side in an impatient shake, its tailbeating the bridge floor angrily. But for an instant only it remainedso.
With an alert turn of the head it directed its attention to the cave. Ithad heard something. Bad heard the same sound; it was Hal coming out,and Bad stood as if paralyzed.
"Stay in the cave!" he yelled, suddenly regaining command of his voice.
"I'm coming," came the indistinct reply. "Did you find the gun?"
"Stay in the cave! The lion's on the bridge!"
"I can't understand you." Bad had difficulty in hearing the words,broken by the irregularity of the passage and drowned by the noise ofthe falls. "I'm coming fast as I can--my lantern's out."
"Oh-h--" groaned Bad, "what shall I do? Don't come out!" he shriekedagain. There was no reply. The lion had not stirred, crouchingexpectantly at the opening. When Hal appeared, it would spring--and Badshuddered at the thought.
But the gun! Suddenly he remembered that. He looked at the breech; itwas unrusted. He threw a shell into p
lace; then he thought of thebarrel. One glance told him it was choked with mud.
What could he do? He remembered hearing of a gun that had burst becausethere was mud in the end of the barrel. True, that was a shotgun. Daredhe risk it? He brought the gun to his shoulder--then hesitated.
Bad was no coward, but he knew the risk. "Hal!" he yelled for the lasttime. There was no reply, but the click of footsteps and a loud "Ouch!"told him his call had done no good. He saw the lion crouch still lower,the leg muscles tightened, and then--Bang!
Bad had shut his eyes as he pulled the trigger. Furthermore, he had notheld the rifle very tight to his shoulder; he picked himself out of thewater and gave a frightened look toward the bridge. The lion was stillthere but no longer crouching. He was whirling round and round, astruggling bundle of rage and scratching claws. His savage whines sentthe cold chills up and down Bad's back. Coming too close to the edge ofthe bridge, the lion rolled off--and Bad hastily scrambled his waytoward the bank.
"Hello!" called Hal, appearing just then in the cave entrance. "What'sup, Bad?"
"Nothing," said Bad limply.
"Nothing? Is that what makes you look so sick? What you been doing withthe gun?"
"Nothing." Then he added slyly but shakily: "I just clouted Mr. Lion inthe jaw."
"The lion! Was it you that shot? Where is he?" came in rapid succession.
"I believe he went downstairs there to get a drink," laughed Bad, hisvoice and legs getting stronger. "If you'll help me to fish him out,we'll lug him back to Lakefarm, and s'prise the natives."
And that was certainly what they did, as, a couple of hours later, theyarrived, fagged out but proud, at Lakefarm Institute and dropped theirtrophy at the feet of Mr. Byrd, who, with Mr. Frankland and Mr. Milesand Mr. Porter, as well as all the Boy Scouts, was waiting to receivethem.
"And who shot him?" asked Dr. Byrd, after the slain beast had beeninspected and admired to the full expectations of the two heroes.
"It was Frank," Hal replied.
"Not _Bad_?" asked Dr. Byrd, quite seriously.
"No--Frank. Bad has made _good_, and he's been promoted. From now onhe's Frank."
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