The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast
Page 10
CHAPTER VII
BUG IN THE BAR--VISIT TO PORT BROOKE--EVADING BLOODHOUNDS--CONTEST WITHDOGS AND MEANS OF DEFENCE--AMUSING ESCAPE FROM A WILD BULL ANDCONVERSATION ON THE SUBJECT
While Riley was at Bellevue the workmen succeeded in raising the frameof the new house, and in completing the most laborious part of the work.On the last days of his stay he was dispatched with a message to FortBrooke, to say that on the following Tuesday Dr. Gordon and family wouldmake their promised visit.
During the interval nothing of special interest occurred, except apainful accident that happened to Harold. He was awakened in the nightby a sudden tickling in his ear. This was caused by a harvest bug--ablack hard-winged insect, nearly an inch long. When first feeling it,and uncertain what it was, he sprang up in bed, and struck the earviolently from behind, in the hope of jarring it out. Failing in this,he poured his ear full of water; but still not succeeding, he felt alongthe wall for a large needle he recollected seeing there the eveningbefore, and with that endeavoured to pick it out. The frightened bugfinding itself so energetically pursued into its unnatural hiding place,went deeper, and began to scratch with its clogged feet, and to biteupon the tender drum of the ear. The pain it caused was excruciating.Harold, feeling that he must soon go into spasms, unless relieved,wakened his uncle, and entreated earnestly for help. To hisinexpressible delight Dr. Gordon said he could relieve him in a minute;and seizing the night lamp he poured the ear full of oil. Scarcely hadthis fluid closed around the intruder, before it scrambled out, andreached the external ear just in time to die.
Harold could not find words for his gratitude.
"Uncle," said he, "you may think me extravagant, but I assure you thepain was so intense, that I was thinking seriously, in case you couldnot relieve me, of making Sam chop my ear open with a hatchet. This Isuppose would have killed me; but it must have been death in eithercase."
On the day appointed, they went to Fort Brooke in the pleasure boat, Dr.Gordon being at the helm, and Robert and Harold taking turns in managingthe sails. The wind was fair, and the light ripple of the water wasbarely sufficient to give a graceful dancing to their beautiful craft.Far below the transparent waves, they could see the glistening of brightshells upon the bottom, and every now and then the flash of asilver-sided fish.
At the fort they were received with the courtesy that so generally marksgentlemen of the army; and the three days of their stay passed off verypleasantly. The reveille and tattoo, the daily drill, and thepractising with cannon, were novelties to the young back-woodsmen. Frankwas exceedingly surprised, as well as amused, to see cannon-balls making"ducks and drakes," as he called them, upon the water. He had oftenthrown oyster-shells, and flat stones, so as to skim in this way, but hehad no idea that it could be done with a cannon-ball.
On the last day of their visit, Harold escaped from an unpleasantpredicament, only by the exercise of cool courage and ready ingenuity.He had gone with Frank to visit a cannon target, a mile or more distant.Wandering along the bank of the Hillsborough river, which flows hard bythe fort, and then entering the woods on the other side of the road, hewas suddenly accosted by a man on horseback, who had been concealedbehind a bower of yellow jessamines.
"Good day, my young friend. Have you been walking much in these woodstoday?"
Harold said that he had not, and inquired why the question was asked.The man replied, "I am watching for a villainous Indian-negro, who wasseen skulking here this morning. He has been detected in stealing, andseveral persons will soon come with blood-hounds to hunt him. If yousee his track" (and he described its peculiarity), "I hope you will letus know."
Harold consented to do so, and walked on, unwilling to be the spectatorof the scene. Returning to the road, and walking some distance, thethought flashed into his mind that possibly the dogs might fall upon hisown trail. It was certain that they would naturally take the freshesttrail, and he was confident that the man did not know which way he went.The dogs were probably fierce, and it would be exceedingly difficult, incase of an attack, to defend himself and Frank too. Becoming everymoment more uneasy, he went to the roadside and cut himself a stoutbludgeon. Frank watched the operation, and suspected that something waswrong, though he could not conjecture what.
"Cousin," said he, "what did you cut that big stick for?"
"A walking-stick," he replied: "Is it not a good one?"
"Yes, pretty good; but I never saw you use a walking-stick before."
At that moment, Harold heard afar off the deep bay of the blood-hounds,opening upon a trail. The sound became every moment more distinct. Hecould distinguish the cry of four separate dogs. They were evidentlyupon his scent. He clutched his club, and looked fiercely back. It wasa full half mile to the place where, having left the man, he emergedinto the road; and there were several curves in it so great that hecould neither see nor be seen for any distance. Necessity is the motherof invention. A bright thought came into his mind. "Stay here," saidhe to Frank, "and don't move one peg till I come back."
He was at a sharp bend of the road, on the convex side of which lay alittle run of water, skirted by a thick undergrowth. He took a coursestraight with the road, and hurrying as fast as possible into the wetlow ground, returned upon his own track; then, taking Frank in his arms,sprang with all his might, at right angles, to his former course, andran with him to a neighbouring knoll, which commanded a view of theroad, where he stopped to reconnoitre. He had _doubled_, as huntersterm this manoeuvre, practised by hares and foxes when pursued byhounds; and his intention was, if still pursued, to place Frank in atree, and with his club to beat off the dogs until the hunters arrived.
It was soon proved that the hounds were actually upon his track. Theycame roaring along the road, with their tails raised, and their noses tothe ground. Arriving at the spot where Frank had stood, they did notpursue the road, but plunged into the bushes, upon the track whichHarold had doubled, and went floundering into the mire of the streambeyond, where they soon scattered in every direction, hunting for thelost trail. The boys did not pursue their walk; having made so narrowan escape, they turned their steps, without delay, towards the fort.
"Cousin," inquired Frank, on their way back, "did not those dogs comeupon our track!" Harold replied, "Yes."
"And did you cut that big stick to fight them?"
"Yes."
"And did you intend to cheat them by going into the bushes, and comingback the same way, and then jumping off, with me in your arms?" Haroldstill said, "Yes."
"Well, now, cousin," inquired Frank, "where did you learn that nicetrick?"
"From the rabbits and foxes," he answered. "I did not know who couldtell me better than they, how to escape from dogs."
Frank said he always knew that foxes were very cunning, but he neverbefore heard of any one's taking a fox for his teacher.
On returning to the fort, Dr. Gordon applauded the ruse, andcongratulated Harold upon his escape; but, at the same time, informedhim that his plan was not to be relied upon. "A well trained hound,"said he, "is as competent to nose out a doubled track as you are todevise it. I attribute your escape, partly to the fact that the dogsare not staunch, and partly to the help afforded you by the miry bottom,on which your scent could not lie."
The conversation now turned naturally upon contests with dogs, anddifferent methods of escape. Dr. Gordon related the story of his havingdefended himself and his little brother against three fierce dogs, whenhe was about Robert's age, by putting his back against a wall, andbeating off the assailants with a club.
"But were you ever forced to fight them when you had no stick?" askedHarold.
"Fortunately not," his uncle replied. "Though I knew a person once whowas caught as you describe, and who devised at least a show of defence.He took off his hat and shoved it at the dog, with a fierce look,whenever it approached. But I presume that his success depended moreupon the expression of his countenance than upon the threa
teningappearance of his weapon. A _fearless eye_ and _a quiet resolutemanner_, is the best defence against _any enemy_, human or brute, thatcan be devised.
"I did, however, witness one expedient adopted by a sailor, which goesto show what can be accomplished in an emergency of the kind, by a coolhead and a steady hand. A large dog rushed at him, without provocation,on the public wharf. The sailor spoke to him, looked at him, shoved hishat at him, but in vain. The dog flew at his legs. Quietly drawing hisknife, as a last resource, and holding his hat in his left hand, hestooped, and allowing the dog to seize his hat, passed his knifeunderneath it, into his throat. The dog staggered back, mortallywounded, not having seen the hand that slew him."
On Friday, September 24th, the company returned to Bellevue; and on theweek following, had the opportunity of witnessing an act of coolcourage, which Harold declared to evince far more ingenuity andcomposure of mind, than his own escape from the blood-hounds.
Riley had made them another visit, and was engaged at work upon thehouse, under the direction of Sam, the carpenter. Dr. Gordon took theyoung people in the pleasure boat, to spend an afternoon in theagreeable occupation of obtaining another supply of fish. After tryingfor some time, with poor success, they saw Riley coming along the bluff;his object being, as was afterwards shown, to point out the reason oftheir failure, and to tell them what to do.
As he approached, a fierce looking bull rushed from a grove of liveoaks, and made furiously at him. Had Riley been near the shore hemight, and probably would, have sprung into the water, and thus escaped;but the enraged beast was between him and his place of refuge. Thecompany in the boat felt seriously anxious for his safety, since thereappeared little chance of his escaping without a contest. But Rileytook the matter very coolly. He glided to a little clump of saplings,and holding to one of them at arm's length, seemed to enjoy the evidentmortification of the bull in being so narrowly dodged. He was veryexpert in keeping the small tree between him and it; and as the circlein which he ran was much smaller than that in which the bull wascompelled to move, his task was easy. The furious animal pushed firstwith one horn then with the other; he ran suddenly and violently; hepawed the earth, and bellowed with rage; his eyes flashed and his mouthfoamed, but it was in vain. Soon Riley watched his opportunity, andglided nimbly from that tree to one nearer the boat; then to another andanother; the bull following with every demonstration of impotent rage.This was done merely to teaze. Finally becoming wearied with thisprofitless, though amusing sport, he gathered a handful of sand, andprovoking the bull to push at him again, forced a part of the sand intoone eye, and the remainder into the other, and then left him perfectlyblinded for the time, and rushing madly from place to place, while Rileycame laughing to the beach, and delivered his message.
"Coolly and cleverly done!" said Dr. Gordon, at the end of the contest."That is certainly a new idea, in the way of involuntary bull baiting,which is worth remembering. But I advise you young folks not to try it,except in case of a similar necessity. It is safer to climb a tree orfence, or even to plunge into the water."
"Riley had no other chance," remarked Harold.
"He had not," Dr. Gordon rejoined, "and therefore I regard his expedientas valuable. Should you be pursued in an open field, the danger wouldbe still greater. Then the best plan would be to _detain_ the beast bysomething thrown to attract his attention. Cattle are made very quicklyangry by the sight of a red garment. If anything of this colour, suchas a shawl or pocket handkerchief can be dropped when you are pursued byone, it will be almost certain to catch his eye, and to engage himawhile in goring it. If nothing red can be dropped, then let him havesomething else from your person--a hat, coat, or a spread umbrella--infact anything calculated to attract his eye."
"I have heard," observed Robert, "of jumping upon a bull's back, as hestooped his head to toss."
"So have I," his father added, "but spare me if you please, thenecessity; none but a monkey, or a person of a monkey's agility can doit successfully. I should sooner risk the chance of springing suddenlybehind him, and seizing his tail. At least I should like to administerthat sound belabouring with a stick which he would so richly deserve,and which might teach him better manners."
"Or to twist his tail," said Harold merrily. "I believe that will makea bull bellow, as soon as putting sand into his eyes. And what isbetter, you can keep on twisting, until you are sure than his mannersare thoroughly taught."