CHAPTER XV
AN UNWELCOME VISITOR
The boats of the Sparling fleet had been moving steadilydownstream for several hours, their passengers, in the majorityof instances, sound asleep, lulled by the gentle motion and thefar away "spat, spat, spat," of the industrious paddle wheel atthe stern of each craft.
Teddy had prudently kept away from the main cabin for the restof the evening; when Phil turned in, Teddy was sleeping sweetly.His active part in the affair in the cabin had not caused himany loss of sleep.
With the pilot, Cummings, however, matters had been different.Mr. Cummings had been steadily at the wheel of the "Marie" sincethe boats had sailed shortly after one o'clock in the morning.
The pilot's temper had suffered as the result of his experiencein the cabin, and the jeers aud laughter of the circus people hadnot added to his peace of mind. At intervals he would break outinto a tirade of invective and threats against Teddy Tucker, whohad so humiliated him.
"I'll get even with that little monkey-face! They ought to puthim in the monkey cage where he belongs," growled the pilot,giving the wheel a three-quarter turn to keep the boat fromdriving her prow into the bank, for which he had been steeringto avoid a hidden sand bar.
"I'll tell the manager tomorrow, that if he doesn't keep thatboy away from me, I'll take the matter into my own hands andgive that kid a trouncing that will last him till we get toNew Orleans."
The darkness of the night, just before the dawn, hung over thebroad river. Doors and windows of the pilot house were thrownopen so that the wheelman might get a clear view on all sides.
All at once Cummings seemed to feel some presence near him.He thought he caught the sound of a footfall on the deck.To make sure he left the wheel for a few seconds, peering outalong the deck, on both sides of the pilot house.
He saw no one. The air was filled with a black pall of smokefrom the "Marie's" funnel, the smoke settling over the boat,wholly enveloping her from her stack to the stern paddle wheel.
"Huh!" grunted the pilot, returning to his duties.
Yet his ears had not deceived him. Something was near him, astrange shape, the like of which never had been seen on the deckof the "Fat Marie", in all her long service on the Mississippi.
"If that fool boy comes nosing around here I'll throw himoverboard--that's what I'll do," threatened Cummings. "I'll showhim he can't fool with the pilot of the finest steamboat of theold line. I--"
The pilot suddenly checked himself and peered out to starboard.
"Wha--what?" he gasped.
Something darkened the doorway. What he now saw was a strange,grotesque shape that looked like a shadow itself in the uncertainlight of the early morning.
"Get out of here!" bellowed the pilot, the cold chills running upand down his spine.
The most frightful sound that his ears had ever heard, brokesuddenly on the quiet of the Mississippi night.
"It's the lion escaped!"
Cummings grabbed a stout oak stick that lay at hand--the stickthat now and then, when battling with a stiff current, he usedto insert between the spokes of the steering wheel to give himgreater leverage.
With a yell he brought the stick down on the head of thestrange beast. The roar or bray of the animal stopped suddenly.
Whack! came the echo from the club.
Cummings sprang back. He slammed the pilot-house door in theface of the beast, and closed the windows with a bang that shookthe pilot house. In his excitement the pilot rang in a signal tothe engineer for full speed astern.
About that time something else occurred.
With a terrific crash one of the windows of the pilot house wasshattered, pieces of glass showering in upon the pilot like asudden storm of hail.
Crash!
Another window fell in a shower about him. He tried to get thedoor on the opposite side of the pilot house open, but locked itinstead and dropped the key on the floor.
All this time the "Fat Marie's" paddle wheel was backing waterand the craft, now swung almost broadside to the stream, wasworking her way over toward the Iowa shore.
Bang!
A section of the pilot-house door fell shattering on the inside,and what sounded like a volley of musketry, rattled against theharder woodwork of the pilot house itself.
Frightened almost out of all sense, Cummings began gropingexcitedly for his revolver. At last he found it, more byaccident than through any methodical search for it.
The pilot began to shoot. Some of his bullets went through theroof, others through the broken out windows, while a couplelanded in the door.
At last the half-crazed Cummings was snapping the hammer onempty chambers. He had emptied his revolver without hittinganything more than wood and water.
The fusillade from the outside still continued.
By this time the din had begun to arouse the passengers onthe boat. Phil Forrest was the first to spring up. He shookTeddy by the shoulder, but, being unable to awaken his companion,jerked the boy out of bed and let him drop on the floor.
"Get a net! What's the matter down there!" yelled Teddy."Hey, hey, did the mule kick me? Oh, that you Phil?What's the row--what has happened?"
"I don't know. Come on out. Something has gone wrong.Hear those shots?"
"Wow! Trouble! That's me! I knew I couldn't dream about angelswithout something breaking loose."
Phil had thrown the door open and bounded out to the deck.Just as he did so the pilot leaped from the front window ofthe pilot house, climbed over the rail and dropped to thedeck below. The volleying, the thunderous blowsstill continued.
A loud bray attracted their attention to the other side ofthe boat.
"What's that?" demanded Phil, starting off in that direction.
"It's January! It's January!" howled Teddy Tucker. "I wouldknow that sweet voice if I heard it in the jungles of Africa.Where is he?"
"Over here somewhere. Come on. I can't imagine whathas happened."
"The animals have escaped. There's a lion on the hurricanedeck!" they heard a voice below shout in terrified tones.
"Do you think that's it?" called Phil.
"Lion, nothing! Didn't I tell you I knew that voice? There heis now. See him hand out the hoofs at the pilot house. He musthave a grudge against Cummings. I know. He's paying the fellowback for trying to tie me up."
"But--but, how did he ever get up here?"
"Go it, January! Kick the daylights out of him! I'll give you awhole peck of sugar if you kick the house into the river, pilotand all."
"Whoa! Whoa, January!" shouted Phil.
The donkey, for it was January himself, and not a savagebeast that was acting the part of a battering ram and rapidlydemolishing the pilot house, paused for a second; then, movingto a new position, he began once more hammering at the structure.
"How did he ever get up here, Teddy?"
"I don't know. I know I am glad he did, that's all.Let him kick."
"I'm going to try to catch him."
"Keep away, Phil. He'll have you in the river. He has a fit.Wait till he comes out of it."
"Why, the boat is moving backwards," cried Phil.
"No!"
"Yes, it is."
"Maybe January has kicked the machinery out of gear."
The circus people were by this time on deck, and, like Teddy andPhil, many of them were in their pajamas. They had heard thecry, "the animals have escaped," and many of the people weregazing apprehensively about.
"It's all right," shouted Teddy. "It is only January, taking hismorning exercise."
About that time Phil, who had run around to the other side ofthe pilot house, discovered that it was empty. There was nopilot there.
Understanding came to him instantly. January had either kickedor frightened Cummings out.
"The boat is running wild!" he called. "Find the pilot or weshall be on the shore before we know it."
Phil did not wait for them to find the pilot. Instead, heclimbe
d in through one of the broken windows and graspedthe wheel.
"I've got to stop this going astern first of all," he decided.
He could see the banks now, and they seemed perilously near inthe faint morning light. The other boats of the fleet weresteaming up in answer to the signals of distress that Cummingshad blown in his excitement.
"What is it? Are you sinking?" called a voice through amegaphone from the deck of the "River Queen."
"No, we are all right," answered Phil, leaning out of the window.
"You'll be high and dry on the Iowa shore if you don'twatch sharp. Where are you going?"
"Don't know. Keep out of the way or we're liable to runyou down."
Phil grabbed a bell pull and gave it a violent jerk. The enginesstopped suddenly, to the Circus Boy's great delight. January hadceased his bombardment and now stood with head thrust though oneof the broken windows, gazing in inquiringly at Phil Forrest.
"If one bell stopped the engine, another bell should be thesignal to go ahead," reasoned the lad, giving the bell pull twoquick jerks. He was right. The machinery started and he couldhear the big paddle wheel beating the river into a froth.
The lower deck was in an uproar. Men were shouting and runningabout, trying to discover what animals had escaped, as the pilotinsisted that the hurricane deck was alive with them.
"Get that pilot up here, if you have to drag him. I don't knowwhere the channel is, and I am liable to put the whole outfitaground any minute," shouted Phil Forrest. "Teddy, never mindthat idiotic donkey. We're in a fix. Get downstairs, at onejump, and see that the pilot is brought up here lively."
"I'll fetch him. You watch me," answered the irrepressibleTeddy, starting off on a run.
January had all at once grown very meek. He stood gazingthoughtfully off over the river.
"What is the trouble here?" roared Mr. Sparling dashing up to thepilot house at that moment.
"That is exactly what I have been trying to find out," answeredthe Circus Boy.
"What, _Phil?_"
"Yes, it's Phil."
"What are you doing in there?"
"Steering the boat."
"Piloting the--where is the pilot?"
"Somewhere below. I have sent Teddy after him. You see,January was trying to kick the pilot house off the boat and intothe river. The pilot, thinking the animals had escaped, fled.When I came up this craft was traveling astern and January wasmaking a sieve of this little house. I have got the 'Marie'going forward, but I may run her aground if he doesn't comealong pretty soon."
Mr. Sparling reached the companionway in two bounds, and, leapingto the lower deck, caught the pilot by the coat collar, shakingoff the two circus men who had hold of Cummings.
"You get up to that pilot house or you'll be in the worst fixin your whole river career." Mr. Sparling accompanied thewords with a violent push that sent the pilot headlong towardthe stairway. But the showman was by the fellow's side by thetime he had gotten to his feet, and began assisting him up thecompanionway, while Teddy Tucker followed, prodding the pilotin the back with a clenched fist.
Into the pilot house they hurled the man, Cummings.
"Now, you steer! If it had not been for that boy we might havelost our whole equipment. I don't care anything about your oldboat, but I'm blest if I am going to let a fool pilot wreckus--a pilot who is afraid of a donkey."
"I'll quit this outfit tomorrow," growled Cummings. "I kin pilotsteamers, but I can't fight a menagerie and a pack of boys withthe very Old Nick in them. Get away from that wheel!" hecommanded, thrusting Phil aside.
Mr. Sparling had him by the collar once more.
"You do that again, and I'll take it out of you right here!"declared the showman savagely.
"I'll bet he's the fellow who stole my egg," declared Teddy,eyeing the pilot sternly.