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The Peril Finders, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. A Night Visitor |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. A NIGHT VISITOR Chris Lee's bed that night was a contrivance of his own. It was between two long pieces of rock, a narrow passage which, after taking the axe to lop them off, he filled full of aromatic pine branches. These lay close and were elastic and yielding. Over them he stretched a blanket, upon which he rolled another piece of rock, which filled up one end of the narrow passage, and there, snugly protected at head and sides, was the delightful couch for a wholesomely tired lad, only wanting another blanket to cover him if he felt chilly, or to be ready to throw off if he found it warm. Silence, darkness save for the glittering stars on high, sweet pure air, and an excellent appetite for sleep, there was all he could desire, and after laying his rifle and revolver ready and lifting his cartridge-pouch and hunting-knife a little over the rocks to prevent them from making dents in his sides, he said good-night to those near, let his head sink down, gazed for a few minutes at a brilliant star in the zenith which his father had told him was Aldebaran--one which he recollected well from its unscientific name--the Bull's-eye, he closed his own and began dreaming at once, but not pleasantly. The fact was that he had eaten a very hearty supper and lain down to sleep very soon afterwards, two rather foolish things to do if a calm and restful sleep be sought. Chris did not know why it was--the doctor told him afterwards--but he began to dream soon afterwards of rattlesnakes. Not of such as he had seen on the rocky slope, the largest of which did not exceed six feet in length, but of dreamland rattlesnakes, monsters of twenty feet long, and with bony tails which kept up a constant whirr previous to their owners striking at that which they meant to destroy. It was evident in the dream that they did not mean to destroy him, for though they hovered over him with their heads playing up and down upon their elastic necks, while their eyes glittered and their forked tongues darted in and out of the opening in their jaws, they did not strike, only kept him in a state of horror and suspense, till they made way for one of the porcupines that had been named at supper-time. This came quietly up to the foot of his bed, and walked up from his boots to his knees, with its black and white quills lying down as smoothly as if they formed so much excessively coarse hair. But then as the creature continued its walk, to be soon upon the boy's chest, it seemed to get into a violent passion, setting up its quills at all angles and rattling them together till it seemed about to dash at him. But instead of doing anything obnoxious it suddenly disappeared before the advance of a skunk, which came trotting up his body from his feet, just after the same fashion as the porcupine, but looking fiercely aggressive, in spite of the beauty of its clean, glossy, black and white fur. Its eyes gleamed and sparkled; it showed its glistening sharp white teeth, and waving its erect tail, which curved over its back like a squirrel's, it twitched in the same way, and seemed every moment about to make a rush at the boy's face to inflict one of its dangerously poisonous bites, while the twitching tail threatened the discharge of the horribly offensive fluid which will send a determined dog yelling plaintively, as, completely cowed, it beats a retreat. It seemed an hour of expectancy for what did not come off, and all the time the sleeper lay half-conscious in the painful experience, telling himself that it was all fancy, for it was only a dream. This was just as he was about to recover full consciousness, for the skunk gradually died away from where it had seemed to be standing upon his chest, and Chris lay wide awake with his heart beating, painfully wide awake now, and with every nerve on the strain, as he listened and tried to make out the meaning of a strange heavy breathing mingled with a sniffing, snuffling which came from somewhere at the back of his head. Chris's first thought was of springing up out of the trough-like bed-place he had selected and escaping by the foot; but before he could put this into effect there was a rustling sound on the big piece of rock he had jammed in behind his head, and though he could see nothing he could feel that something had stepped up on to the stone and was bending over him; the snuffling breathing grew louder, and, to his horror, he felt a puff of hot breath full in his face. There was no springing up now. An icy feeling chilled him, and he lay perfectly motionless, unable to stir, and feeling as if he had suddenly sunk into another dream--a nightmare this, by which he was completely fettered. His rifle lay on one side, loaded; his revolver was on the other, and within reach of his hand; but he could not lift a finger, only stare upward with his eyes fixed upon the stars, which now seemed to be eclipsed by something dark passing between his face and them and remaining perfectly motionless for a few seconds. Then it passed onward and he could see the stars again, conscious the while that whatever the creature might be that had visited him it was now standing or sitting upon the long rock, to his left, breathing hard, with its head very near his own, and that, apparently dissatisfied with its position, or uneasy, it raised itself up and stepped over to the other side of the bed, forming what looked faintly like a black arch before the hind-legs followed the fore and it began to shuffle about uneasily upon the rock to the boy's right. Then there was a scraping sound, and something fell with a thump on to the listener's chest and slipped down between the rock and his ribs. Chris's heart had ceased its heavy beating, but at this point it gave a tremendous bound which seemed to give him a momentary feeling of resolution and strength; but momentary only. He could not stir even now, only think, and listen to the creature upon the rock as it uttered a peculiar whining sound, followed by a deep grunt. Then all was still, as if the animal had been slightly alarmed and was now listening. "If I stir," thought Chris--for he knew what his visitant must be--"if I stir it will seize me with its claws and bury its teeth in my throat. Oh, it is hard!" For he knew what had happened: the bear had in changing its position upon the long piece of rock disturbed the revolver lying there, and knocked it off on to the sleeper's chest, from which it had glided down between his ribs and the rock to lie close to his hand, where he could not seize it for his defence without rousing the animal to an attack before he could cock the pistol and fire. The position was horrible, for Chris felt that the monster must be a grizzly, one of the fiercest and most powerful beasts that roam the forest, and though so much help was close at hand, it seemed to the boy that it might as well be a mile away, for he dared not--no, not dared, but simply could not--utter a sound. How long this agony lasted he could not tell, but all the time he felt a strange combination of sensations, for it was as if his body was turned to ice, his head was on fire, and hot and cold together he was melting away. He could see dimly the bulky dark figure of his visitant, but he judged that it could see him plainly, for it kept on moving about uneasily, and twice over changed its position from one rock to the other, bridging them over, and then sitting up as if listening, before coming down softly on all fours again, to stretch out its neck and begin sniffing at him from end to end. At last, when a horrible feeling of faintness was creeping up from head to brain, a thrill ran through the boy, for a great paw was stretched out, touched him on the breast, and he felt the claws catch in the right side of his jacket as he was lifted up a little with a strange scraping sound against the rock, and something rolled over on to his chest as he was lowered down again, and then rolled back against his right-hand. The shuffling sound began again, and as if to claw him out of the narrow trench-like place in which he lay, the bear reached out once more, thrusting its great paw down between him and the rock, and with the claws right under him began to lift him out. Chris felt himself rising slowly, and knew that the next thing would be that he would be seized by the animal's teeth and slowly carried off to his lair. But a change had come over the lad in those moments, ever since the first movement had sent something on to his chest to roll back against his hand. For that something was the revolver, about whose butt Chris's fingers closed, and as the bear's shuffling had raised him up there was a _click, click_ of the lock, a movement of the boy's wrist which directed the muzzle of the little piece upward, and then in an agony of desperation his right finger pressed the trigger and there was a sharp echoing report, followed by a furious yell and crash which was followed by a call for help, and the voice of Wilton. "Who fired that shot?" he shouted. "I did," gasped Chris, who had scrambled to his feet, trembling in every limb. "Who called for help?" shouted Griggs. "I! Help!" came again. "That you, Bourne?" said the doctor. "Yes," came in a choking voice as of some one being suffocated. "Oh, it's father!" shrieked Ned, and he rushed in the direction of the sound, just as there was a snarling, worrying sound and the breaking of wood as if a heavy body was rushing among the trees. "Ah!" came in Bourne's voice, loudly. "No, my boy, not hurt, but I thought I was gone." The speaker was the centre of a little group now, two of whom struck matches, and Wilton produced a lanthorn, which was lit and held up, to disclose the face of Bourne, covered with blood, and his jacket hanging down below his waist, literally ripped up. "Help him to lie down," said the doctor anxiously. "Now, old fellow, tell me, where are you wounded?" "Only in my jacket, I hope," was the reply, given cheerfully enough. "Who shot the brute?" "I did," said Chris. "You?" cried Griggs. "Then it was not you, Mr Bourne?" "I? No! I was woke up by the shot, and coming to see, when I was knocked down by the brute. It fell on me, pinning me to the ground, kicking and struggling the while. I thought I should have been smothered. Is this its blood all over me?" "Yes, if you are not torn." "I'm not hurt that I know of. One of its fangs caught me somewhere about the collar and tore my jacket right down to the waist." "No, you can't be wounded," said the doctor, "or you wouldn't talk like that. Here, Chris, you say you fired?" "Yes, father," said the boy, and he hurriedly related his experience. "What an escape for you both!" cried the doctor. "The brute must have been desperately wounded by your pistol-shot, Chris, my boy. You hit him hard." "Couldn't very well miss him at that distance, sir," said Griggs dryly. "The brute's lying somewhere about. Look out, every one, for he'll be pretty dangerous." "He must have gone ever so far," cried Ned, "for I heard the trees breaking for long enough. But are you quite sure you're not hurt, father?" "Not a bit, my boy; I only want a wash and another jacket. Ugh! This blood is horrible. But I say, Wilton, you're a pretty sort of a fellow to keep guard while we slept!" "Oh, I was on the lookout for Indians. You didn't say anything about bears. What was this one--a grizzly, Griggs?" "Didn't see it, neighbour, but I shouldn't think it was. Black one or brown one, I should say. Cinnamon, p'r'aps." "Why not a grizzly?" "Because he wouldn't have taken a shot in him so quietly. He'd be rampaging about here ready to tear us all to pieces." "Hadn't we better try and follow up the brute with the lanthorn?" "I should say not," was the reply. "If he's only wounded he must be lying up savage-like, and as soon as he sees the light he'll show fight. If he's badly hurt he may have gone on till he drops, and be nearly dead by now." "But we can't lie down and go to sleep again after this." "Well, no, sir," said Griggs coolly; "it don't sound tempting." "Then you would try and track the brute?" "Yes, when the sun's up, sir." "But what shall we do now?" "Well," said the American, as coolly as could be, "seems to me that this is just a nice suitable time to sit round the lanthorn and tell bear stories." "What!" cried the doctor. "Tell bear stories, sir. Young Chris here might begin by telling his experience over again with all the flourishes, crosses, and dots that he left out. He didn't half tell it, I think." "Oh, that's absurd," said Wilton. "By the way, though, I didn't hear a sound till Chris fired." "Hadn't dropped asleep, had you?" said Griggs banteringly. "No, certainly not," said Wilton, angrily. "Here, every one look to his rifle," said the doctor, "and we'll sit together and watch and listen. The brute may come back." This was done in silence for some time, when their patience getting exhausted, remarks were made about the ponies and mules, and wonder was expressed about their not having stampeded. "Say," said Griggs suddenly, "I forgot all about them. Where are they?" "Feeding about somewhere, quietly," said the doctor. "I don't know so much about that," cried Griggs. "P'r'aps one of you will come with me and the lanthorn, and we'll see. I can't hear any of them grass-chopping. Will you come with me, Chris, or have you been too much shook up?" "Oh, I'll come," said Chris quietly. "I don't think I've been too much 'shook up.'" In a few minutes the lanthorn was seen lighting up the rocks and trees in the direction of the best pasturage, where the cattle had been left; and those left in camp watched till it disappeared, waiting anxiously till the light was in sight again, and finally came up to where the glowing embers kept on brightening and dying out again as the soft breeze blew down the gully from time to time. "Can't see or hear anything of the animals," said Griggs, at last, as he strode up with the light. "Ain't heard any more of Mr B'ar, have you?" "No," was the reply. "They were scared off by the shooting, I expect, or else by getting a sniff of the b'ar's wound." "Would they go far?" asked the doctor. "Can't say, sir, but not so far that we can't follow them by their trail." "It's a great nuisance, just when we had decided to make an early start in the morning. Now everything depends upon our finding the animals and bringing them back." There was of course no more sleep that night, neither, much as it was expected, was there any return of the visitor of the night during the long hours of the watch. But the morning broke at last, and as soon as it was light enough the party began to follow the trail of the bear, starting from the spot where Bourne had his alarming adventure, the traces of which were plain enough, the earth and growth being torn up by the brute's claws. From there the spots of blood which had fallen from the bear's wound were plain enough at intervals, and they were followed for about a quarter of a mile, where the animal had plunged into the dense forest, where the trees and undergrowth presented a front that could not be penetrated by a human being, though comparatively easy for a quadruped. Further pursuit was given up, and the party returned to follow up the trail of the ponies and mules. This was found at once, the animals, obeying their gregarious instinct, having, after being alarmed, closed in together for mutual protection and made off down the gully to the open country and the plains. Griggs took the lead from old experience of such accidents, and pointed out how the frightened beasts had galloped frantically for miles, then, pretty well exhausted, subsided to a trot, which had been kept up for several more before their progress became a walk, with halts here and there for grazing. In fact, it was several hours before the poor brutes were sighted right out on the salt plain, and when overtaken and headed off on the return journey, not even a single mule seemed to make the slightest objection, for they all closed up into a drove and walked steadily back, every animal with roughened coat stiffened by dust and ready to hang its head with the look of one which had done enough work for one day. It was not until the afternoon that the dreary tramp back brought the party in sight of their last night's camp, and that was not reached until close upon sundown, a long halt having been necessary to water the weary beasts and let them graze. "I don't think we're going to make much of a start to-day, Griggs," said Chris, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I know I'm not, squire," said the American. "It seems a shame to neglect human beings for the sake of horses, but it has to be done. Here, I meant to have a few birds for a roast this evening, and now it's only tea and fried bacon. But it might be worse, eh?" "Ever so much," replied Chris. "But I am hungry." "I say," said Ned, laughingly, "oughtn't some of us to go again and try to find the bear, while the others light the fire and boil the kettle?" "No," said Chris. "We had enough bear last night." "Yes," said Ned, "but that was live bear; I meant slices of him to frizzle in the pan. Griggs says bear's ham is good." "So it is, squire, and if we had a haunch of the brute I'd set you an example to eat it." "What does it taste like?" said Chris. "Well, it's rather hard to say. A good fat bear's ham looks rather like a bit of a pig salted and dried; but it doesn't taste like it a bit." "Like what, then?" cried Chris. "Something like a mutton ham that has been trying to make-believe that it had grown on a pig's hind-quarters. 'Tain't bad, but don't you two get letting your mouths water, because you'll get none to-night. It's tea and cake and a bit o' bacon. That's our tackle this time, and very glad I shall be to get even that." In another hour they were quietly enjoying the simple meal, during which the doctor said-- "An early start in the morning, boys. You'll be able to sleep to-night, Chris, without dreaming about porcupines and skunks, which were all consequences of indigestion and the later supper." "But the bear wasn't, father," said Chris quickly. "Well, no," said the doctor dryly; "we'll leave out the bear." "You ought to include it in your lesson on indigestion, though," said Bourne, giving himself a rub. "I didn't eat too heartily last night, but I suffered horribly from bear lying heavily upon my chest." "My watch to-night," said the doctor; and soon after the camp was once more in a state of repose, but Chris Lee had chosen a different position for his bed. _ |
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