CHAPTER III

FROM ONE PERIL TO ANOTHER

BOB did not need the warning from Sandy to put him on his guard. The mere fact that there was a panther near by was sufficient reason for his alertness, because no animal that roamed the woods was more respected than this sleek gray beast with the square jaws, the powerful muscles and the sharp claws.

Every slight movement of the bushes caused Bob to turn his eyes in that direction, with his gun half raised, ready to take a quick shot. And, yet, he knew well how important it was that he use extreme care, when the time came for firing. A wounded panther was a thing to be dreaded by even the stoutest-hearted hunter. He had heard many stories told around the family hearth at home about these animals, by such men as Pat O'Mara, the jolly Irish borderer, old Reuben Jacks, the veteran hunter, and others; all of whom agreed that they would sooner face a bear, or a pack of wolves than a big "cat" that was wild with pain and rage.

Bob could see his brother now, on his knees, still struggling to release himself from the hold of the fox trap, that seemed to grip his ankle with a stubborn determination to keep him from reaching his gun, standing there so close, but beyond his itching fingers.

Once Bob thought he saw the beast crouching among some bushes that ran down to the edge of the water; but he dared not waste his one shot on an uncertainty, since he would then be compelled to defend himself with his knife or hatchet. And, as it turned out, he showed considerable wisdom in repressing his boyish desire to fire, for just then there was a movement in an entirely different direction, and he had a glimpse of a gray beast slinking past a small opening.

At this moment, Sandy made a new discovery that added a new note of alarm to his voice:

"Oh! there are two of them, Bob! Be careful what you do, brother! Try to scare them off without shooting, if you can! Oh! if I could only reach my gun, it would be all right; but I'm held here, a prisoner!"

It was a time for doing the right thing, as Bob well knew. If there were, indeed, a pair of the animals, eager to pounce upon the boy who was so helpless there, he would certainly have his hands full.

Fire would frighten them away, Bob knew; but he had no means of quickly igniting a handful of dead leaves. In those early days, long before matches of any kind had come to be known, the only way to get fire was by the use of flint and steel; and often it was a difficult task, requiring a pinch of powder, the same as was used for priming in the pan of a gun.

In this emergency there flashed into the active mind of the young pioneer a dozen schemes for frightening the panthers away, or, at least, make the brutes hesitate long enough for him to have a chance to hand to his brother the gun that was so tantalizingly close to his eager fingers. Both armed, they might, by two well-directed shots, put an end to both of the panthers.

Each scheme was, however, dismissed as impracticable as soon as thought of, and there remained to Bob only the one thought,--he must, regardless of the danger, reach his brother's gun!

Believing that a sudden noise might momentarily disconcert the beasts, he gathered himself for a spring, and then, with a shrill, piercing cry, he leaped from the bushes, and dashed forward.

The distance was but a few yards, and was quickly covered. Seizing Sandy's gun, he, by the same motion, tossed it to his eager brother, and the two lads, back to back, stood with ready weapons, awaiting the spring of the crouching panthers.

Moments passed and, to the boys, the tension was fearful. Suddenly the silence was broken by a sharp, cracking sound, followed by a mighty crash, as a huge dead tree toppled down, its bare, gaunt branches grazing the boys, as they stood alertly eying the surrounding bushes.

This was followed by a slight rustling sound and then all was again still.

For several minutes the lads maintained their tense attitude and then, with a sigh of relief, Bob relaxed his strained muscles.

"I believe, Sandy, the fall of that dead tree scared the brutes away," he said, at last.

"You are right, Bob," answered the other, with a ring of disgust in his voice; "I do believe the cowards are slinking off over there, for I saw the brush moving. I wish we could have had a shot at them."

"Well, for one, I'm glad they've taken a notion to let us alone," Bob remarked. "I was afraid that they would spring at any second, and we might have missed, or only wounded, one or both of the panthers. It was exciting while it lasted, Sandy."

"Yes, I can say it was," replied the other, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Just think of me held up here like this, and with the teeth of that old trap biting in deeper every time I pulled, or tried to turn around. Please get me loose, Bob; my ankle will be pretty sore after this, I'm afraid."

"So you couldn't turn around to unfasten it yourself," remarked the other, as he hastened to turn the trap over, so that he might stand on the double spring, and thus throw back the two jaws. "There, does that fix it, Sandy? Looks like those teeth had chewed pretty well into your buckskin legging, too. I hope you won't be crippled too badly to limp back to the boat."

Sandy scrambled to his feet, and started to try his left leg. He certainly did limp considerably, but only made a wry face as he said:

"I'll have to stand it, Bob. And, then, it might have been so much worse. Think how those sharp teeth must have cut into my leg but for the support of that stout deerskin legging. And even they would have been nothing like the teeth of a panther. I honestly believe the savage beasts meant to get me. And, after this, I'm just going to add as many panther skins to our bag as I can, to pay up for the scare they gave me."

"Well," Bob replied, "I think we'll give up all idea of keeping along our line of traps to-day. Not to speak of your lame ankle, it seems to get darker all the while; and, with the river before us, we'd be foolish to stay over here any longer than we can help. You remember what mother told us, Sandy?"

"Oh! I wouldn't bother my head about any trouble we might have in making the other shore all right," declared the confident younger boy; "but, then, with this pain in my leg, I don't see how I could manage to get over much ground. However, if you care to go on alone, I can get back to the boat, and wait there for you to come."

Bob shook his head resolutely.

"I'll return with you, Sandy," he said, "but first we will pick up the mink I dropped, if, indeed, those hungry woods cats have not already found it. It looks as if we will have to be contented with a fox and a mink for this afternoon."

"With three more traps to hear from," grumbled Sandy, who hated exceedingly to be kept from doing what he had planned. "This seemed to be our lucky day, Bob; and the chances are we'd have found something in every trap. Now those two panthers will just about run the line, and clean everything out for us."

"Still, we have a whole lot to be thankful for," urged the older boy, as he picked up the red fox, threw it over his shoulder, and offered to assist Sandy in walking. The other, however, scorned to appear like a cripple, and managed unaided to limp along close at his brother's heels, though he made many a wry face, unseen by Bob, as pains shot through the injured ankle.

They were fortunate enough to find the mink just where it had been so hastily dropped when Bob heard the shouts of the trapped boy, and, as soon as this had been secured, they turned their faces toward the point where the dugout had been left.

"You see that I was right about the weather thickening up again," Bob remarked, leading the way at as fast a pace as he believed the lame member of the expedition could stand.

"It does grow gloomy right along, for a fact. As you say, Bob, perhaps the bad spell was only broken for a short time, and the rains may come on worse than ever. Ouch! that hurt like everything then. I didn't see that root sticking up in the trail. Don't I wish I was over home right now, so I could wash that sore spot with hot water, and have mother apply some of that wonderful salve which she makes out of herbs."

"Only a little way more, and we'll strike the boat," called out Bob, encouragingly; "there, I can see the place now."

"I was just thinking what a fix we'd be in if we found it gone!" remarked Sandy. "With the river booming bank-full, and the current as fierce as a wolf pack, how in the wide world would we ever manage to get across, Bob?"

"I'm not going to bother my head trying to guess," answered the other. "Time enough to cross a bridge when you come to it. Besides, I happen to know that the boat is still there, for I just had a glimpse of it. But, did you mean you thought the river could have risen enough, since we left, to carry it off?"

"No," said Sandy, soberly, "I was thinking of that second warning you found under the door of the cabin this very morning, and wondering whether those French trappers could be around on this side of the river. If they saw our boat, and guessed whose it was, they'd be ready to send it adrift, and keep us from getting home to-night."

"That is just what I think, myself; and they would do even worse than that, if they had the chance. The only thing that keeps them from firing on us as we pass through the forest is their fear of the vengeance of Boone and Kenton, not to speak of Pontiac, whose wampum belt hangs in our cabin, a sign of his protecting hand over the Armstrong family. But, here we are; and now to get started right away."

One glance out upon the heaving bosom of the flood told Sandy that they had been wise to give up further idea of staying on the further shore. Indeed, with the gathering darkness, it began to look as if, even now, they had taken more chances than were wise or prudent.

The boys pushed out with a fearlessness that was characteristic of their actions. Accustomed to facing perils by land or water, they seldom hesitated, or allowed anything like alarm to influence them, when duty called. And both lads knew that, should they fail to return home on that night, there would be little sleep under the Armstrong roof.

As usual, Sandy sat in the bow of the boat, while his brother managed the stern paddle with considerable dexterity. Until they had come to the Ohio country neither boy had had very much experience in boats; but, after the dugout was built, they spent much of their time on the water, shooting ducks for the family larder, fishing, or crossing over to hunt on the other shore, where, later on in the fall, they had stretched a line of traps that brought them in many a fine pelt.

They soon found that, somehow, owing to the trend of the shore, perhaps, it was going to prove an even more difficult task to push the heavy dugout back to the southern side of the river, than it had been in coming across. The current added to their troubles, for it carried them along faster than either of the boys had dreamed possible. For the first time, possibly, they were learning of the power of the flood, once it arose in its tremendous might.

Both lads strained every muscle as they drove the blades deeply into the water. They had, by the hardest kind of work, managed to get about half-way over, though both of them were somewhat winded by their efforts, when they noticed that heavy clouds, rolling up across the heavens, had begun to bring the dusk of night much earlier than even the careful Bob had anticipated.

There were many obstructions that had to be avoided. Trees were floating on the surface of the water in places, and logs seemed plentiful. Altogether, it was an entirely new sight to both Bob and his brother, for, until now, they had never known the beautiful Ohio to rise to a point that could be called dangerous.

"Take care, and keep away from that tree!" warned Bob, as he saw a particularly ugly snag, with broken branches sticking out along its sides, bearing down upon them on the left.

They had to paddle furiously in order to keep clear of this threatening object, and, possibly, in his eagerness, Sandy may have bent too heavily on his paddle, for, just as they reached a point where they would be safe from the floating tree, there was a sharp snap.

"What happened?" cried Bob, alarmed more than he would have liked to confess.

For reply Sandy held up the stump of his paddle. It had broken off clean, and, from that time on, only one could paddle at a time. This catastrophe was sure to delay their passage, and doubtless cause them to be swept some miles down-stream before they could land; but the boys were hardy, and would not mind walking back, though doubtless Sandy might complain a little on account of his lame leg.

Bob set to work again with a good will, and was making fair progress when yet another peril came booming along, this time in the shape of a heavy log that was sweeping with the speeding current.

Bob saw the danger and strove the best he could to avoid it; but, in the clutch of the current, the little dugout seemed but a plaything, and the log, driving three times as fast as they were going, bore straight down upon them. When Bob saw that a collision was unavoidable, he called at the top of his voice to his brother:

"It's going to strike us, Sandy. Hold on to your gun if you can, and climb aboard the log as they come together; for I fear that the boat will sink. Quick! jump now!"