Читать книгу The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast - Goulding Francis Robert - Страница 9

BUG IN THE BAR-VISIT TO PORT BROOKE-EVADING BLOODHOUNDS-CONTEST WITH DOGS AND MEANS OF DEFENCE-AMUSING ESCAPE FROM A WILD BULL AND CONVERSATION ON THE SUBJECT

While Riley was at Bellevue the workmen succeeded in raising the frame of the new house, and in completing the most laborious part of the work. On the last days of his stay he was dispatched with a message to Fort Brooke, to say that on the following Tuesday Dr. Gordon and family would make their promised visit.

During the interval nothing of special interest occurred, except a painful accident that happened to Harold. He was awakened in the night by a sudden tickling in his ear. This was caused by a harvest bug-a black hard-winged insect, nearly an inch long. When first feeling it, and uncertain what it was, he sprang up in bed, and struck the ear violently from behind, in the hope of jarring it out. Failing in this, he poured his ear full of water; but still not succeeding, he felt along the wall for a large needle he recollected seeing there the evening before, and with that endeavoured to pick it out. The frightened bug finding itself so energetically pursued into its unnatural hiding place, went deeper, and began to scratch with its clogged feet, and to bite upon the tender drum of the ear. The pain it caused was excruciating. Harold, feeling that he must soon go into spasms, unless relieved, wakened his uncle, and entreated earnestly for help. To his inexpressible delight Dr. Gordon said he could relieve him in a minute; and seizing the night lamp he poured the ear full of oil. Scarcely had this fluid closed around the intruder, before it scrambled out, and reached the external ear just in time to die.

Harold could not find words for his gratitude.

"Uncle," said he, "you may think me extravagant, but I assure you the pain was so intense, that I was thinking seriously, in case you could not relieve me, of making Sam chop my ear open with a hatchet. This I suppose would have killed me; but it must have been death in either case."

On the day appointed, they went to Fort Brooke in the pleasure boat, Dr. Gordon being at the helm, and Robert and Harold taking turns in managing the sails. The wind was fair, and the light ripple of the water was barely sufficient to give a graceful dancing to their beautiful craft. Far below the transparent waves, they could see the glistening of bright shells upon the bottom, and every now and then the flash of a silver-sided fish.

At the fort they were received with the courtesy that so generally marks gentlemen of the army; and the three days of their stay passed off very pleasantly. The reveille and tattoo, the daily drill, and the practising with cannon, were novelties to the young back-woodsmen. Frank was exceedingly surprised, as well as amused, to see cannon-balls making "ducks and drakes," as he called them, upon the water. He had often thrown oyster-shells, and flat stones, so as to skim in this way, but he had no idea that it could be done with a cannon-ball.

On the last day of their visit, Harold escaped from an unpleasant predicament, only by the exercise of cool courage and ready ingenuity. He had gone with Frank to visit a cannon target, a mile or more distant. Wandering along the bank of the Hillsborough river, which flows hard by the fort, and then entering the woods on the other side of the road, he was suddenly accosted by a man on horseback, who had been concealed behind a bower of yellow jessamines.

"Good day, my young friend. Have you been walking much in these woods today?"

Harold said that he had not, and inquired why the question was asked. The man replied, "I am watching for a villainous Indian-negro, who was seen skulking here this morning. He has been detected in stealing, and several persons will soon come with blood-hounds to hunt him. If you see his track" (and he described its peculiarity), "I hope you will let us know."

Harold consented to do so, and walked on, unwilling to be the spectator of the scene. Returning to the road, and walking some distance, the thought flashed into his mind that possibly the dogs might fall upon his own trail. It was certain that they would naturally take the freshest trail, and he was confident that the man did not know which way he went. The dogs were probably fierce, and it would be exceedingly difficult, in case of an attack, to defend himself and Frank too. Becoming every moment more uneasy, he went to the roadside and cut himself a stout bludgeon. Frank watched the operation, and suspected that something was wrong, though he could not conjecture what.

"Cousin," said he, "what did you cut that big stick for?"

"A walking-stick," he replied: "Is it not a good one?"

"Yes, pretty good; but I never saw you use a walking-stick before."

At that moment, Harold heard afar off the deep bay of the blood-hounds, opening upon a trail. The sound became every moment more distinct. He could distinguish the cry of four separate dogs. They were evidently upon his scent. He clutched his club, and looked fiercely back. It was a full half mile to the place where, having left the man, he emerged into the road; and there were several curves in it so great that he could neither see nor be seen for any distance. Necessity is the mother of invention. A bright thought came into his mind. "Stay here," said he to Frank, "and don't move one peg till I come back."

He was at a sharp bend of the road, on the convex side of which lay a little run of water, skirted by a thick undergrowth. He took a course straight with the road, and hurrying as fast as possible into the wet low ground, returned upon his own track; then, taking Frank in his arms, sprang with all his might, at right angles, to his former course, and ran with him to a neighbouring knoll, which commanded a view of the road, where he stopped to reconnoitre. He had doubled, as hunters term this manoeuvre, practised by hares and foxes when pursued by hounds; and his intention was, if still pursued, to place Frank in a tree, and with his club to beat off the dogs until the hunters arrived.

It was soon proved that the hounds were actually upon his track. They came roaring along the road, with their tails raised, and their noses to the ground. Arriving at the spot where Frank had stood, they did not pursue the road, but plunged into the bushes, upon the track which Harold had doubled, and went floundering into the mire of the stream beyond, where they soon scattered in every direction, hunting for the lost trail. The boys did not pursue their walk; having made so narrow an escape, they turned their steps, without delay, towards the fort.

"Cousin," inquired Frank, on their way back, "did not those dogs come upon our track!" Harold replied, "Yes."

"And did you cut that big stick to fight them?"

"Yes."

"And did you intend to cheat them by going into the bushes, and coming back the same way, and then jumping off, with me in your arms?" Harold still said, "Yes."

"Well, now, cousin," inquired Frank, "where did you learn that nice trick?"

"From the rabbits and foxes," he answered. "I did not know who could tell me better than they, how to escape from dogs."

Frank said he always knew that foxes were very cunning, but he never before heard of any one's taking a fox for his teacher.

On returning to the fort, Dr. Gordon applauded the ruse, and congratulated Harold upon his escape; but, at the same time, informed him that his plan was not to be relied upon. "A well trained hound," said he, "is as competent to nose out a doubled track as you are to devise it. I attribute your escape, partly to the fact that the dogs are not staunch, and partly to the help afforded you by the miry bottom, on which your scent could not lie."

The conversation now turned naturally upon contests with dogs, and different methods of escape. Dr. Gordon related the story of his having defended himself and his little brother against three fierce dogs, when he was about Robert's age, by putting his back against a wall, and beating off the assailants with a club.

"But were you ever forced to fight them when you had no stick?" asked Harold.

"Fortunately not," his uncle replied. "Though I knew a person once who was caught as you describe, and who devised at least a show of defence. He took off his hat and shoved it at the dog, with a fierce look, whenever it approached. But I presume that his success depended more upon the expression of his countenance than upon the threatening appearance of his weapon. A fearless eye and a quiet resolute manner, is the best defence against any enemy, human or brute, that can be devised.

"I did, however, witness one expedient adopted by a sailor, which goes to show what can be accomplished in an emergency of the kind, by a cool head and a steady hand. A large dog rushed at him, without provocation, on the public wharf. The sailor spoke to him, looked at him, shoved his hat at him, but in vain. The dog flew at his legs. Quietly drawing his knife, as a last resource, and holding his hat in his left hand, he stooped, and allowing the dog to seize his hat, passed his knife underneath it, into his throat. The dog staggered back, mortally wounded, not having seen the hand that slew him."

On Friday, September 24th, the company returned to Bellevue; and on the week following, had the opportunity of witnessing an act of cool courage, which Harold declared to evince far more ingenuity and composure of mind, than his own escape from the blood-hounds.

Riley had made them another visit, and was engaged at work upon the house, under the direction of Sam, the carpenter. Dr. Gordon took the young people in the pleasure boat, to spend an afternoon in the agreeable occupation of obtaining another supply of fish. After trying for some time, with poor success, they saw Riley coming along the bluff; his object being, as was afterwards shown, to point out the reason of their failure, and to tell them what to do.

As he approached, a fierce looking bull rushed from a grove of live oaks, and made furiously at him. Had Riley been near the shore he might, and probably would, have sprung into the water, and thus escaped; but the enraged beast was between him and his place of refuge. The company in the boat felt seriously anxious for his safety, since there appeared little chance of his escaping without a contest. But Riley took the matter very coolly. He glided to a little clump of saplings, and holding to one of them at arm's length, seemed to enjoy the evident mortification of the bull in being so narrowly dodged. He was very expert in keeping the small tree between him and it; and as the circle in which he ran was much smaller than that in which the bull was compelled to move, his task was easy. The furious animal pushed first with one horn then with the other; he ran suddenly and violently; he pawed the earth, and bellowed with rage; his eyes flashed and his mouth foamed, but it was in vain. Soon Riley watched his opportunity, and glided nimbly from that tree to one nearer the boat; then to another and another; the bull following with every demonstration of impotent rage. This was done merely to teaze. Finally becoming wearied with this profitless, though amusing sport, he gathered a handful of sand, and provoking the bull to push at him again, forced a part of the sand into one eye, and the remainder into the other, and then left him perfectly blinded for the time, and rushing madly from place to place, while Riley came laughing to the beach, and delivered his message.

"Coolly and cleverly done!" said Dr. Gordon, at the end of the contest. "That is certainly a new idea, in the way of involuntary bull baiting, which is worth remembering. But I advise you young folks not to try it, except in case of a similar necessity. It is safer to climb a tree or fence, or even to plunge into the water."

"Riley had no other chance," remarked Harold.

"He had not," Dr. Gordon rejoined, "and therefore I regard his expedient as valuable. Should you be pursued in an open field, the danger would be still greater. Then the best plan would be to detain the beast by something thrown to attract his attention. Cattle are made very quickly angry by the sight of a red garment. If anything of this colour, such as a shawl or pocket handkerchief can be dropped when you are pursued by one, it will be almost certain to catch his eye, and to engage him awhile in goring it. If nothing red can be dropped, then let him have something else from your person-a hat, coat, or a spread umbrella-in fact anything calculated to attract his eye."

"I have heard," observed Robert, "of jumping upon a bull's back, as he stooped his head to toss."

"So have I," his father added, "but spare me if you please, the necessity; none but a monkey, or a person of a monkey's agility can do it successfully. I should sooner risk the chance of springing suddenly behind him, and seizing his tail. At least I should like to administer that sound belabouring with a stick which he would so richly deserve, and which might teach him better manners."

"Or to twist his tail," said Harold merrily. "I believe that will make a bull bellow, as soon as putting sand into his eyes. And what is better, you can keep on twisting, until you are sure than his manners are thoroughly taught."