CHAPTER XIII.

"A BUFFALO-HUNT."

Alfred Van Hoosen kept his word in relation to the buffalo-hunt, and early on a fine morning the party took the cars for his uncle's farm in Jersey.

Captain Cannon and Mr. Twinkle were in high spirits, and even Mr. Mole looked forward to some excellent sport.

Jack and Harvey pretended to be as enthusiastic as the rest, while Van Hoosen discoursed upon the danger attending such a hunt as the one they were about to engage in.

When the old homestead was reached, Alfred apologized for the absence of his uncle, who was still away in Philadelphia, and did the honors of the house himself.

Old Stock, the steward, who had been posted by Alfred, spread an excellent lunch on the table, and provided rifles and ammunition for the party, but none of them, except Alfred, Jack and Harvey, knew that the cartridges were all blank.

It would never have done to kill the buffalo, for Alfred's uncle would not have pardoned such an outrage.

Champagne flowed briskly, and every one was in high spirits.

"Are there many buffalo, sir, in Jersey?" inquired Captain Cannon, of Alfred.

"Considerable," replied Alfred. "But not so many as there were. They are gradually being killed off."

"When in India," continued the captain, "I shot a tiger before breakfast, regularly, every day, for a year."

"Come, come! That is drawing the long bow," said Mr. Twinkle. "I shot a lion once a week, while in Africa, for six months, but a tiger every day, is too much."

"Fact, I assure you, sir."

"I can quite believe it," said Professor Mole. "For when I was in China I used to kill a score of alligators, every day, just to keep my hand in."

"Well, gentlemen," exclaimed Alfred, "suppose you show your skill on the buffalo."

They all jumped up, grasped their rifles, took a supply of cartridges, and started for the park in which the big game were grazing.

It was raining slightly, and Mr. Mole provided himself with an umbrella, which did not add to his sportsmanlike appearance.

The professor also carried a note-book, in which to record any interesting fact concerning the day's hunt, so that he could send a report to the President of the Travelers' Club.

"Fine undulating country," he wrote. "Buffalo-grass observable. Jersey the favorite home of this remarkable animal."

After walking half an hour they came upon an old bull who was standing under a tree.

"Ha! What have we here?" cried Captain Cannon.

"That's a buffalo," replied Van Hoosen.

"Dear me, I should have taken it for a cow. How savage he looks!"

"Yes. The buffalo in his wild, untamed state is very ferocious. Now, gentlemen, Harkaway, Harvey and myself will stay here, while you three go up and stalk the game. If he escapes _you_, we will bring him down."

"Thank you," replied the captain. "Advance, my friends. This is a glorious moment."

It was observable that Mr. Twinkle trembled violently and could scarcely hold his gun.

The three advanced together slowly, but neither would go ahead of the others.

Van Hoosen made a signal to Jack and Harvey, who followed him into a thicket.

Here old Stock, the steward, was securely hidden, awaiting their coming.

"What's in the wind now?" asked Jack.

"We're bound to scare your friends, and I want you to dress up as Indians. Stock has everything ready for us, even to a pot of red paint."

Jack struck an attitude.

"Heap big Injun, ugh!" he exclaimed, amid much laughter.

They quickly proceeded to disguise themselves, tied feathers in their hair, put on their war-paint, and slung blankets over their shoulders.

While they were dressing the three buffalo-hunters were approaching the old bull, who watched them with as much curiosity as they displayed with regard to him.

"Twinkle," said the captain, "you are entitled to the first shot."

"N-no," replied Twinkle, with chattering teeth. "Think you ought to have the honor."

"I decline it."

"Then by all means let Mr. Mole attack the beast. How fierce he looks, and what terrible horns he has! Go in, Mole, and slay him!"

"That is for you to do," replied Mole. "I will lie down in the grass where he can't see me."

"What is the use of that?"

"Don't you see? I can take a steady shot at the savage creature and he won't know what hit him."

The professor did not waste any more time in words. He threw himself down in the long grass, while Captain Cannon retired behind the unfortunate Twinkle.

The latter had never in his life shot anything bigger than a sparrow in spite of all his boasting, and he was thoroughly alarmed.

"Bless me!" exclaimed the captain. "Where are Harkaway and the other fellows?"

"Not gone, are they?" inquired Twinkle.

"I can't see them anywhere."

"The cowards! They have run away and left us to face the music! That's _mean_," said Twinkle.

The bull at this moment left the shelter of the tree and advanced toward the intruders on his domain.

"He's a-coming!" gasped Twinkle.

"Fire!" said the captain.

Mr. Twinkle grasped his gun fiercely, shut his eyes, turned his back to the buffalo, and fired.

The blank cartridge struck Captain Cannon, hurting him considerably in a very tender portion of his body--not in front neither.

"Oh-h!!! I'm shot!" he said, clapping his hands to the place and dropping his gun.

"Shot! did I hit you?" asked Mr. Twinkle, innocently.

"Did you? Why, you confounded idiot, I'm covered with blood. Look here!" the captain gasped, indignantly.

He withdrew his hands from the wound and regarded the ruby fluid grimly.

"I'm very sorry."

"Sorry be hanged! What good will that do me? Perhaps I shall die, or lose my leg; anyway, I know I sha'n't be able to sit down in comfort for a week."

"I apologize. It--it sha'n't occur again," replied Twinkle. "I don't know how it happened. This is a horrid old gun. I never shot with such a funny gun before."

"It's my opinion you're afraid, sir," shouted the captain. "Why don't you load up?"

"I distinctly refuse to do so, sir," retorted Twinkle; "and after the injurious language you have used to me, sir, I shall retire from this shoot and leave you to kill the buffalo yourself."

Saying this, he ran away and hid himself behind a neighboring tree.

The captain looked after him contemptuously.

Meanwhile the bull was getting nearer, and it was necessary to do something to check his progress.

Taking a steady aim, Captain Cannon discharged his piece, and was surprised to see the animal remain unharmed.

Loading up, he fired again and again, but the beast did not fall, though he grew enraged, and uttering a defiant snort, charged.

The captain ran with all his might and succeeded in reaching a tree, behind which he sheltered himself.

"Shoot him, Mole!" he cried. "You've a capital chance; let the brute have it, under the foreleg."

The professor fired, but with no better luck than the others; and the bull, having his attention diverted, took a survey of his new enemy.

Snorting again, he charged at the professor, who sprung to his feet, threw away his gun, and for want of a better weapon, opened his umbrella.

Probably the buffalo had never before seen this offshoot of civilization, for he was much alarmed.

Turning tail, he fled ignominiously from the field of battle, and was soon lost to sight.

"Bravo," cried the captain.

"Victory!" shouted Mr. Twinkle.

They emerged from their shelter and warmly congratulated the professor on his exploit.

"It was a happy thought," said Mole. "I will make a note of it. 'The buffalo, though impervious to bullets, will fly at the sight of an umbrella.'"

"I think we had better go home," exclaimed Twinkle.

"And I second that motion," replied the captain; "for my wound is becoming stiff and painful. We have actually seen a buffalo and had a terrific encounter with it. This will be sufficient to report to our society."

"Quite," remarked Mole. "I am perfectly satisfied."

Suddenly they were startled by a fearful yell, which made them jump.

Looking round, they beheld three red Indians in all their majesty of paint, feathers and tomahawks.

"Oh!! look!!!!" exclaimed Twinkle, "we shall all be robbed and murdered!"

"Indians!" said the captain. "Why did not Mr. Van Hoosen warn us of this danger? I thought the wretches were kept on their reservations and guarded by government troops."

"They can't scalp me," remarked Mole.

"Why not?"

"I wear a wig, to which they are welcome, if they will only spare my life."

"Whoop! la whoop!" yelled the Indians, dancing about in eccentric circles.

Twinkle fell on his knees, and clasping his hands begged for mercy.

"Oh! good, kind gentlemen!" he said. "Have pity on a poor Englishman far away from home, who only came out here in the interest of science."

"Ugh! take scalp, want heap scalp to put in wigwam," replied an Indian.

"I've very little hair, sir; it is scarcely worth taking."

"My white brother is a squaw, he has the heart of a dog; the pale-face is a coward; ugh! I have spoken."

Captain Cannon and Mr. Mole followed Twinkle's example and sunk on their knees.

They looked very comical in this undignified position.

The Indians stood over them, each selecting his victim and threatening him with a tomahawk in one hand and the scalping-knife in the other.

Jack knocked off the professor's hat and making a rapid circle with his knife, lifted the wig.

"Ha! white man heap big fraud," he exclaimed as he hung the wig at his belt.

"I'm very sorry, sir," replied Mole. "But I couldn't help growing bald. It's my misfortune, not my fault--nature did it--all my family lose their hair quite early in life."

"Give watch, money!"

"Certainly, with the greatest pleasure in life," said Mole, emptying his pockets.

He handed out some currency, a watch and chain, chewing tobacco and a small flask of spirits.

"What this? fire-water, hey?"

"Yes, good, kind sir. It's old rye whisky."

"If bad, Indian kill lying pale-face," said Jack, tasting the whisky and handing it to Harvey and Van Hoosen, who evinced their satisfaction by guttural sounds and grunts.

Harvey contented himself with cutting Mr. Twinkle's hair as short as he could, and Van Hoosen did the same for the fire-eating captain.

They then tore up their hats and the close-cropped looked as if they had just come out of jail, while Mole's polished crown shone in the sunshine like a ball of ivory.

Mr. Twinkle and the captain had to give up all their valuables, which they did gladly, thinking they were very lucky to escape with their lives.

"White men crawl on belly, like snake, and kiss Indians' feet," exclaimed Jack.

"I don't care about doing that," replied Mole.

Jack flourished his knife.

"White dog want to die?" he asked.

"Oh! no. Not yet. I'll do it," cried Mole, hastily.

Jack retreated several paces, and the professor crawled toward him, kissing his feet.

Van Hoosen and Harvey made their captives do the same thing.

"Whoop!" cried Jack, "we leave the white squaws now."

He took another drink out of the flask, his companions did the same, and then they vanished in the thicket as mysteriously as they had come.

"That was a narrow escape," said the professor.

"Yes, indeed," replied Captain Cannon. "I shall have a fine story to tell when I get back to London. First, I killed a savage buffalo bull, in the wilds of New Jersey."

"You didn't kill him," observed Mr. Twinkle.

"Didn't I?"

"No, indeed. I think that honor belongs to me."

"Any way, you shot something and that was myself. I'll forgive you, if you will let me say, without fear of contradiction, that I slew the buffalo."

"You may as well tell a good lie while you are about it," said Mr. Mole. "_I_ always do."

"I have remarked that already," observed the captain.

"A small falsehood is a contemptible thing, but there is some glory in a big one."

"In what way can I amend mine?"

"Say that in the encounter with the bull he tossed you on his horns, and you can show your wound in corroboration of the story," replied the professor.

The captain did not relish this allusion to his wound, which was situated in an inglorious portion of his anatomy.

Mr. Mole picked up the flask, which was empty, and having discovered this fact, his disgust found vent in words.

"These Indians are the meanest wretches I ever met with," he said.

"What have they done now?" inquired Mr. Twinkle.

"Emptied the flask--drained it _dry_, sir, by Jove! I had intended to solace myself with a quiet drink, but human aspirations are ever destined to be dashed to the ground."

He sighed deeply.

"Let us go back to the house and enjoy Mr. Van Hoosen's hospitality," suggested Mr. Twinkle.

"I believe that motion was seconded and carried, a few moments ago," said the captain.

"It was," replied the professor.

"Then I will give the word of command. By your right, march! And if I ever come out buffalo-hunting in the Jersey wilds again, may the Lord forgive me."

The three men marched disconsolately toward the house, and arranged among themselves to say that they had encountered a band of Indians, who, after a severe fight, overpowered them by the sheer force of numbers.

"Let me tell the story," exclaimed Mole, "and you corroborate all I say."

"Good!" cried the captain and Mr. Twinkle.

"I don't mind a little romancing," continued Mole. "It comes naturally to me, and I know it requires an effort on your part, gentlemen."

The sportsmen smiled and quickened their pace, as they were anxious to reach the homestead, and enjoy the good things which they felt sure Mr. Van Hoosen would regale them with.

When they arrived at the house, they were met at the door by Alfred, Jack and Harvey.

"What sport did you meet with, sir?" asked Harkaway.

"Splendid, my dear boy," replied Mr. Mole. "You missed it."

"Is that so?"

"We killed the buffalo bull--at least, he was hit and went away into a thicket to die. If it had not been for a tribe of Indians who attacked us, we should have had a capital day's gunning."

"Did the Indians fight you?"

"Yes, sir," answered Mr. Mole. "We were absolutely surrounded by fifty of the red fiends, but we showed a determined front and beat them off."

"Did you kill any?"

"Did we. Well, I should smile if we did not," answered Mr. Mole.

"Where are the dead?"

"Ask their comrades. When they saw they were defeated, they retired in disorder, but they carried their dead with them."

"Carried off the dead?"

"Yes. I will give them the credit for that."

"But how did it occur that your wig is gone and these gentlemen have had their hair cut short?" inquired Harkaway.

Mr. Mole looked a little confused.

"Oh! I will explain that," he said; "on our way home we were attacked by a horde of tramps."

"A horde?"

"Yes, about a score, and being exhausted by our encounter with the Indians we surrendered at discretion."

"That was rough on you, sir. It was indeed. Did the tramps rob you of anything?"

"All we possessed; but we beat the Indians, and if we had been possessed of any cartridges we should have driven off the tramps."

"That is a very good story," said Jack.

Mr. Mole looked indignant.

"What do you mean by that insinuation?" he exclaimed. "Do you doubt my honor?"

"Oh! no. Not for a moment."

"Then why is it a good story?"

"Simply because it is the best lie, Mr. Mole, that I have heard for a long time."

Captain Cannon struck his breast with his hand and Mr. Twinkle looked unutterable things at Jack.

"_I_ am concerned in this allegation," said the captain.

"Did I allegate anything?" asked Jack.

"Yes, sir, and I deny the allegation and despise the allegator."

"That's a stale joke," replied Jack. "But look here, gentlemen, if the Indians cut your hair or took Mr. Mole's wig, we can return the hirsute appendages. If the tramps robbed you of money or valuables we can give them back."

"_You_!"

"Yes, sir," continued Harkaway; "what do you say to this?"

"And this?" cried Harvey.

"And this?" added Van Hoosen.

They severally displayed the spoils they had taken, placing them on a table.

The consternation and dismay of the three pretenders was funny in the extreme.

"Then you were the Indians!" said the professor; grasping the tail end of the joke feebly.

"We were," answered Jack.

"But how did you do it?"

"Oh! we dressed up, being determined to have some fun with you, and as there was no harm done, I hope you will forgive the joke."

"I do," replied the professor; "and I may add that I knew it was you, Jack, all along."

"You did?"

"If I hadn't known it, do you think I would have allowed you to take my wig."

"Allowed me?"

"Yes. It was the only one I had, and a bald-headed old man is not a cheerful spectacle, nor calculated to inspire respect."

He took up his wig and fitted it on, after which he appropriated the various articles which had been taken from him.

"Ah! Jack, you think you are a very smart fellow, but I have known you from a boy, and you can't fool me," said Mr. Mole.

"But I did to-day, though," replied Harkaway.

Captain Cannon took what belonged to him, and appeared very indignant.

"Mr. Harkaway," he said, "you and I are members of the same club."

"We are."

"And we came over here to hunt the buffalo in its native wilds and make a report at home."

"You did, but I had other things to attend to."

"Never mind, you have grossly deceived me, and I consider your joke an insult, sir."

"Do you?" said Jack, coldly.

"Yes, sir, I do. Look at my hair! it will take a month to grow. I shall leave this country at once."

"If you do, the country won't miss you. I don't think there will be a general mourning, or that the nation will go into bankruptcy."

Mr. Twinkle put on his hat with a savage air.

"I shall go, too," he said.

"By all means. Go to--Hong Kong or Halifax, if you like."

Captain Cannon put his arm in that of Mr. Twinkle.

"Mr. Van Hoosen," exclaimed Mr. Twinkle, "we are disappointed in you."

"Sorry for that. I generally pan out pretty good," replied Alfred.

"We are going, sir."

"So I heard you say before."

"We will not stay to partake of your hospitality, sir."

"Nobody asked you. I gave you a shot at my uncle's old tame buffalo bull, but you had only blank cartridges, and having done that, I have no inclination to do anything further for you."

"Blank cartridges!" ejaculated the captain.

"The deuce," said Mr. Twinkle. "That was lucky for you, Cannon, when I fired round the corner; I might have settled you, altogether."

"Come!" replied the captain, grandly.

"One word before you go, gentlemen," exclaimed Alfred Van Hoosen. "You, as educated men, ought not to have been such idiots as to suppose you would find buffaloes and Indians in New York State or Jersey, and you can't blame me, as a playful American, for having a joke with you, especially as your better-informed friend, Mr. Harkaway, assisted me."

"I have nothing to say," replied Captain Cannon.

"Nor I," replied Mr. Twinkle. "For my part, I don't like the country, and the people are--"

Alfred Van Hoosen stared at him, fixedly.

"Are what?" he asked.

Mr. Twinkle made just the least little nervous start.

"Oh! perfect gentlemen, of course," he added.

"Come!" again said the captain. "The gentlemen shall hear from us."

"By cable, I guess," laughed Alfred.

"Do you join us, Mr. Mole?" asked the captain, not noticing the remark of Van Hoosen.

"Well--no," answered the professor. "I knew it was a lark all through, and as I never bite off my nose to spite my face, I will forgive Jack this time, and stay to lunch with my very good friend, Mr. Van Hoosen."

He held out his hand.

"No animosity, Al?" he added.

"Not the slightest in the world, my dear fellow," replied Van Hoosen.

Captain Cannon and Mr. Twinkle walked out of the room together, fully determined to return to England by the next steamer.

As they went, Alfred sung, the others joining in the chorus:

"We'll settle on the banks Of the lovely Ohio, Through the wild woods we'll wend As we hunt the buffalo"

And the refrain rung in their ears all the way to the depot:

"As we hunt the buff-a-lo."