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Frank Merriwell Down South, a novel by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 13. A Stampede In A City |
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_ CHAPTER XIII. A STAMPEDE IN A CITY It was the day before Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and the "Queen City of the South" was in her gayest attire, being thronged with visitors from the North and from almost every part of the world. It was Monday, when Rex, king of the carnival, comes to town and takes possession of the city. Early in the forenoon the river front in the vicinity of Canal Street was thronged with people seeking advantageous positions from which to witness the king's landing. It was a jovial, good-natured gathering, such as is never seen in any other city. Every one seemed to have imbibed the spirit of the occasion, and there was no friction or unpleasantness. Every one was exceedingly polite and courteous, and all seemed to feel it a duty to make the occasion as pleasant for other folks as possible. The shipping along the river was decorated, and flags flew everywhere. The sun never shone more brightly and New Orleans never presented more subtle allurements. Seated in a private carriage that had stopped at a particularly favorable spot were Professor Scotch and Frank, who had arrived a few days before. "Professor," said Frank, who was almost bursting with pent-up enthusiasm and youthful energy, "this makes a fellow feel that it is good to be living. In all the places we have visited, I have seen nothing like this. I am sorry Hans is no longer with us to enjoy it." "And you will see nothing like it anywhere in this country but right here," declared the professor, who was also enthused. "Northern cities may get up carnivals, but they allow the spirit of commerce to crowd in and push aside the true spirit of pleasure. In all their pageants and processions may be seen schemes for advertising this, that or the other; but here you will see nothing of the kind. In the procession to-day and the parade to-morrow, you will see no trade advertisements, no schemes for calling attention to Dr. Somebody-or-other's cure for ingrowing corns, nothing but the beautiful and the artistic." Frank laughed. "It's seldom you speak like this, professor," he said. "You must be in love with the South." "I am a Northerner, but I think the South very beautiful, and I admire the people of the South more than I can tell. I do not know as they are naturally more gentle and kind-hearted than Northerners, but they are certainly more courteous and chivalrous, despite their quick tempers and more passionate dispositions. Northerners are too brusque. If they ask pardon for rudeness, they do it as if they regretted the breath spent in uttering the words. It is quite the opposite with Southerners, for they seem----" "Hold on, professor," interrupted Frank. "You may tell me all about that some other time. Hark! hear the whistles on the river? The king must be coming!" "Yes, he is coming." There was a stir among the people, a murmur ran over the great throng. Then the royal yacht, accompanied by more than a dozen other steamers, all gayly decorated, was seen approaching. The great crowd began to cheer, hundreds of whistles shrieked and roared at the same instant, bands of music were playing, and, as the royal yacht drew near the levee at the foot of Canal Street, the booming of cannons added to the mad uproar of joy. All over the great gathering of gayly dressed people handkerchiefs fluttered and hats were waved in the air, while laughing, excited faces were seen everywhere. The mad excitement filled Frank Merriwell's veins, and he stood erect in the carriage, waving his hat and cheering with the cheering thousands, although there was such an uproar at that moment that he could scarcely hear his own voice. The king, attired in purple and gold, was seen near the bow of the royal yacht, surrounded by courtiers and admirers. To Frank's wonder, a dozen policemen had been able to keep Canal Street open for the procession from the levee as far as could be seen. Elsewhere, and on each side of the street, the throng packed thickly, but they seemed to aid the police in the work of holding the street clear, so there was no trouble at all. Not once had Frank seen the pushing and swaying so often seen when great crowds assemble in Northern cities, and not once had the policemen been compelled to draw a club to enforce orders. As the royal yacht drew into the jetty a gathering of city officers and leading citizens formed to greet and welcome him. These gentlemen were known as "dukes of the realm," and constituted the royal court. They were decorated with badges of gold and bogus jewels. The yacht drew up at the levee, and King Rex, accompanied by his escort, landed, where he was greeted with proper ceremony by the dukes of the realm. Then the king was provided with a handsomely decorated carriage, which he entered, and a procession was formed. The king's carriage somewhat resembled a chariot, being drawn by four mettlesome coal-black horses, all gayly caparisoned with gold and silver trimmings and nodding plumes. A magnificent band of music headed the procession, and then came a barge that was piled high with beautiful and fragrant flowers. In this barge was a girl who seemed to be dressed entirely in flowers, and there was a crown of flowers on her head. She was masked, but did not seem to be more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. She was known as "the Queen of Flowers," and other girls, ladies of the court, dressed entirely in white, accompanied her. The king's carriage followed the flower barge, and, directed by the queen, who was seated on a throne of flowers, the girls scattered flowers beneath the feet of the horses, now and then laughingly pelting some one in the throng with them. As the procession started, the cannons boomed once more, and the steam whistles shrieked. And then, in less than a minute, there came a startling interruption. The cheering of the people on one of the side streets turned to shrieks of terror and warning, and the crowd was seen to make a mad rush for almost any place of shelter. "What's the matter, Frank?" asked Professor Scotch, in alarm. "Don't know," was the reply, as Frank mounted to the carriage seat, on which he stood to obtain a view. "Why, it seems that there are wild cattle in the street, and they're coming this way." "Good gracious!" gasped the professor. "Drive on, driver--get out of the way quickly!" "That's impossible, sir," replied the driver, immediately. "If I drive on, we are liable to be overturned by the rushing crowd. It is safer to keep still and remain here." "Those cattle look like Texas long-horns!" cried Frank. "So they are, sir," assured the driver. "They have broken out of the yard in which they were placed this morning. They were brought here on a steamer." "Texas long-horns on a stampede in a crowded city!" fluttered Frank. "That means damage--no end of it." In truth, nearly half a hundred wild Texan steers, driven to madness by the shrieking whistles and thundering cannons, had broken out of the fraily constructed yard, and at least a dozen of them had stampeded straight toward Canal Street. Persons crushed against each other and fell over each other in frantic haste to get out of the way for the cattle to pass. Some were thrown down and trampled on by the fear-stricken throng. Men shouted hoarsely, and women shrieked. Mad with terror, blinded by dust, furious with the joy of sudden freedom, the Texan steers, heads lowered, horns glistening, eyes glowing redly and nostrils steaming, charged straight into the crowd. It was a terrible spectacle. "For Heaven's sake, is there no way of stopping those creatures?" cried Frank. "We'll all be killed!" quavered Professor Scotch. Into Canal Street rushed the crowd, and the procession was broken up in a moment. The one thought of everybody seemed to be to get out of the way of the steers. The horses on the flower barge became unmanageable, turned short, snorting with terror, and upset the barge, spilling flowers, girls, and all into the street. Then, in some way, the animals broke away, leaving the wrecked barge where it had toppled. The girls, with one exception, sprang up and fled in every direction. The one exception was the Queen of Flowers, who lay motionless and apparently unconscious in the street, with the beautiful flowers piled on every side of her. "She is hurt!" cried Frank, who was watching her. "Why doesn't some one pick her up?" "They do not see her there amid the flowers," palpitated the professor. "They do not know she has not fled with the other girls!" "The cattle--the steers will crush her!" shouted the driver. "Not if I can save her!" rang out the clear voice of our hero. Professor Scotch made a clutch at the lad, but too late to catch and hold him. Frank leaped from the carriage, clearing the heads of a dozen persons, struck on his feet in the street, tore his way through the rushing, excited mob, and reached the side of the unconscious Flower Queen. He lifted her from the ground, and, at that very instant, a mad steer, with lowered head and bristling horns, charged blindly at them! _ |
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