CHAPTER XIV

THE BUFFALO STAMPEDE

FAR away, it seemed as though the whole surface of the prairie was in motion. To the right and left the boys had seen the same bewildering sight. Roger failed to comprehend what it meant, and turned to his companion for an explanation.

"What is it, Dick?" he called out.

"Buffaloes--one of those great herds we've been told about, and which stretches as far as the eye can reach!" the other replied.

"But will they come this way; and ought we saddle up so as to be ready to make a run for it?" Roger continued; not because he was timid, but that the sight of that endless, heaving mass of moving animals had impressed him strongly.

"Yes, I think we should," Dick replied. "If the storm comes along after them, and starts a stampede, as they call it, we would stand in danger of being trampled under ten thousand hoofs. No one could ever tell what had become of us. So let's roll up our blankets, and get the horses; quick, Roger, because they're heading in our direction, and coming right along."

Indeed, even as they brought the snorting horses in, and started to fasten the loads on their backs, the rumble had increased to a steady roar, so that it seemed to Roger he could actually feel the ground vibrate under the pounding of those myriad of hoofs, as the heavy animals galloped toward the river.

Whenever the lightning flashed, and this was more frequently than before, with peals of thunder following, both boys found themselves compelled to shoot quick glances of both curiosity and alarm toward the advancing peril. And what they saw was a sight never to be forgotten.

It was like the border of a troubled sea, that tremendous line of moving animal life, heaving and tossing, and coming steadily on like a dust cloud impelled by the wind. As yet they could not distinguish the units comprising this immense whole; but it was easy to imagine them, for both boys had shot buffaloes before now, and knew what they were like, though they had never looked upon a herd of more than half a dozen at a time.

"Oh! there must be millions in that lot!" cried Roger, when a particularly vivid flash came, that showed them the whole level stretch covered with the advancing horde as far as their eyes could reach.

"Too many for us to stay here, and try to divide!" Dick answered.

"How lucky that you noticed where the trees grew along the river," said Roger; "because that will be our best chance, don't you think, Dick?"

"Yes, and the sooner we're off the better," was the other's answer.

He knew that their horses must still be tired from the long journey of the day before, and, laden as they were, might not be able to run as swiftly as under other conditions. Just how fast that avalanche of shaggy forms could advance he had no means of knowing. If further frightened by the flash of lightning, and the crash of thunder, a stampede of the herd would mean that the bison would come on the full gallop, madly seeking to find shelter from the howling blast.

"Have we got everything, do you think?" asked Roger, ready to mount his horse, which could hardly be held in hand, such was its terror at the approach of this thundering mass of heavy beasts; it was as though the intelligent animal understood the danger that threatened, and wanted to be on the move.

"No matter, we cannot afford to waste another minute hunting for anything now. Our lives are worth more than any other thing we possess. Get in your saddle, quick, Roger; and be careful not to let the horse throw you, or all is lost!"

The warning came not any too soon, for the fretful animal was jumping and tugging at the bridle, trying the best it could to break away, so that it might dash off, and keep a space between that approaching peril and its fleet heels.

But Roger was a pretty fair horseman, and succeeded in mounting, in spite of all the prancing of the steed. Then away they went, helter-skelter, allowing the horses to have their heads.

They tried to keep as near to one another as possible. The one danger Dick feared more than anything else was that one of the horses in this headlong gallop might set his feet in a marmot hole, and bring about disaster; for a spill in the face of the oncoming army of buffaloes would mean that the unfortunate one must be trampled under foot, whether his horse had a leg broken or not.

When first seen the buffaloes had apparently been simply galloping steadily on, as though bent on changing their feeding grounds; but Dick, turning to look with each flash, believed he could detect a change coming over their method of advance.

This was doubtless caused by the increasing crashes of thunder that sounded high above the steady roar of those tens of thousands of hoofs beating upon the hard turf. In other words, as the oncoming storm began to overtake the drove, their gallop was fast degenerating into a stampede, when every animal would put on its best spurt, and, wild with fear, seek to outrun the threatening gale.

Already the horses were doing their best, and it was folly to dig one's heels into the sides of his straining beast, as Roger was doing, seeking to obtain a little more speed.

And now both boys began to look anxiously ahead. Despite the best efforts of the horses it seemed as though the leading buffaloes were much closer to them than when the mad race had started; and this meant that, unless they could manage to gain the shelter of the trees, they were going to have a hard time of it avoiding disaster.

Already Roger had learned that his comrade had guessed true when he said that the indistinct line along the horizon, seen just at sunset, must be trees. They had become much more distinct by now, so that, although but a fleeting glimpse of them could be obtained when the lightning flashed, still that was enough.

And now the rain started to fall, but neither cared for that, if only it did not interfere with their striking the timber belt at its nearest point.

Probably neither of those boys would ever forget that wild ride, with the thunder booming all around them; the lightning seeming to strike here, there, and everywhere; the rain falling in a deluge that soon soaked them to the skin; and, worst of all, that endless line of galloping bison gaining constantly, as they were urged on by their fright.

Once Roger's horse stumbled, and the boy came near falling, only retaining his seat because he had firmly fixed himself there. His heart seemed to jump into his throat with a sudden fear lest the animal had lamed itself, and would prove unequal to the task of keeping ahead of the oncoming herd.

But, so far as could be seen, the horse did not show any signs of injury.

"Can we make it, Dick?"

It was necessary for Roger to shout, although at the time he could not have been ten feet away from his companion. The combination of noises all around them prevented such a small thing as a human voice from being heard, unless strained to the utmost.

"Looks like it! keep up your heart, Roger!" was the cheery reply.

But, although Dick spoke in this manner, he was not so very sure that the tired horses would be equal to the test. He almost hated to glance backward now, for it seemed to him that the advance of that endless line of pursuers must be overtaking them rapidly. Perhaps that was only his fears magnified; but it impressed Dick disagreeably, nevertheless.

In vain he racked his brain to conjure up some means by which their progress might be increased. Even if they could take the time to detach some of the various packages with which they had loaded their horses, it was doubtful if such a sacrifice would avail to any considerable extent, and so Dick dismissed it as useless.

The best hope that he had lay in the chance that the trees might be somewhat nearer than they believed to be the case, owing to the impossibility of correctly gauging distances while the rain was falling, driven by the wind, and the deceptive lightning held sway.

At any rate, all they could do was to hang on, and trust to good fortune to carry them to safety. The horses were fully conscious of their danger, and could be trusted to head for the river. Besides, Dick kept his senses about him all the while, for he knew what it might mean if he allowed himself to give way.

When the thunder stopped booming for a few seconds they could hear the roar of those countless hoofs behind them. It had at least one good element about it--it spurred their horses on.

Had it been daylight, or even a clear, moonlight night, Dick might have managed to alter his course so as to strike the trees at some point nearer than the one the frightened horses were aiming for. But in such a storm one could only keep straight ahead, and trust to luck for the rest.

Roger, for once at least, had no suggestion to make. True, he looked backward at times as though almost ready to turn at bay, and face that rolling mass of tossing black horns and shaggy heads; but the folly of such a thing must have impressed itself upon him immediately, for he kept beside his companion throughout the entire ride.

His one bullet, even granting that it found a victim, would have counted no more than a grain of sand on the seashore. And after he had fired his bolt the end must have overwhelmed him instantly; for that resistless tide would sweep on, and every object in its path would be blotted out of existence.

It seemed to Roger that his nerves had reached a point where they could stand no more. And then he heard Dick give vent to a loud shout, not of new alarm, but with a ring of triumph in it; and surely never did the sound of human voice break upon the ears of Roger Armstrong with a sweeter cadence than when he grasped the tenor of what his companion was calling:

"The trees, Roger, the trees are at hand! Keep it up for five minutes more, and it will be all right!"