CHAPTER V
"Somebody has taken our boat, Bob!"
"It looks like it, Mark, but I didn't see anybody," answered the sailor boy, gazing up and down the river in perplexity.
"The mist must have hidden the person from view," went on Mark.
"Did you tie the craft fast?"
"No, I left that to you!"
"And I left it to you!"
"Well, I never! In that case neither of us tied her up."
"And she has simply floated away!" came with a groan. "Say, I ought to be kicked well for this!"
"Let us hurry along the bank—perhaps we can catch up with the scow."
Without more ado the two lads walked along the bank, over the grass and rocks and then around a patch of tall brushwood. In the uncertain light Bob went down into a hole up to his knees.
"Take care!" he called out, warningly. "If you don't, you'll break a leg, or your head!"
"This is one of the delights of floating down the river," replied Mark, making a wry face. "Oh, it's chuck-full of fun!"
"We've got to find the scow, Mark. If we don't, we'll have to go supperless, and perhaps tramp for miles to the next settlement."
"I'm just as willing to find the scow as you are, Bob. Come."
Again they went on, but with increased caution, for neither wished to fall into any hole. Soon they came to a portion of the river where heavy trees overhung the bank.
"I see something around the bend!" cried Mark. "Unless I am mistaken, it's the scow!"
"You are right, Mark. But we'll have to walk around a long distance to get to her. Here is a cove ahead."
They left the river bank, intending to skirt the cove Bob had mentioned. The brushwood was thick, and further on they had to pass several low-hanging trees.
"Hark!" called Mark, suddenly. "Am I mistaken, or did I hear a dog barking?"
They listened, and made out the deep baying of a hound. Then came more baying from another hound.
"Hounds, and they are after us!" said Bob. "I don't like this. They may not be friendly."
"Here they come!" answered Mark, catching sight of the animals between the trees. "Gracious! I believe they are bloodhounds!"
"Up into a tree with you, quick!" said Bob, and ran to the nearest limb. He swung himself up with ease and then pulled Mark after him.
They had scarcely reached the top of the limb when two bloodhounds came running up, followed by a third and then a fourth. They were ugly-looking animals, and standing at the foot of the tree they glared up savagely at the boys.
"Ugh! They mean business," said Mark. "Get away from here!" And he shook his hand at the dogs, which made them bay loudly and show their teeth.
"Come on up to the next limb," said Bob, nervously. "I don't want any of those critters to sample me." And he climbed up and Mark did the same.
"Bob, we're treed."
"That's so. But the presence of the dogs must mean that a house is near."
"I wish the owner of the dogs would come along and call them off."
"Let us yell for help."
Both raised their voices and called several times. Then the bloodhounds bayed for half a minute, but no answer came back.
"If the owner is around he isn't paying much attention," said Mark, ruefully. "I'd like to know what the dogs will do next."
"As they can't climb the tree they'll most likely stay below."
"Yes, but for how long?"
"That's a riddle I can't answer. Maybe they'll keep us here all night."
"If I had a pistol I'd shoot the brutes!"
"That might get us into more trouble. For all we know, we may be on private property. Most likely we are—if there is a house near."
"Wish I was on that flatboat just about now."
"Or the scow."
The boys relapsed into silence, and seeing this, the bloodhounds took positions under the tree and proceeded to make themselves comfortable.
"The imps are going to stay," said Mark, with a deep sigh. "Bob, we are booked for the night."
"Yes, and in the meantime the scow may float further. I don't think she is caught very tightly. A change in the wind, or in the flow of water, may loosen her once more."
"Do you think we can fool the dogs by climbing into the next tree?"
"We can try it, but I don't think it will work."
Without caution they went up to another limb and from this swung themselves gently into the next tree. They had hardly done so when the bloodhounds began to shift also.
"It's no use, they'll follow us up every time," said Mark.
An hour went by and still the hounds kept their position under the trees. Once in a while one would place his forepaws on the tree and look up savagely and wistfully.
"I really believe they'd like to make a meal of us," said Bob, with a shiver. "Say, this is getting to California with a vengeance!"
"Never despair!" answered Mark, hopefully. "I must say I'm growing sleepy."
"I'm sleepy myself, but I'm not going to sleep and fall off the tree just yet."
Two hours more went by and all was now pitch-dark around them. Finding a rotten limb the boys broke it into pieces and hurled the sticks at the bloodhounds, which brought forth more baying and more snapping of teeth.
"They don't mind the sticks any more than straws," declared Bob. "They are too tough to be hurt that way."
"Hark!" said his companion. "I thought I heard somebody calling."
"There goes one of the dogs," said Bob, who chanced to be looking downward. "I guess somebody must have called him!"
"Let us shout again."
They did so, and kept up the calls for fully five minutes. Then from a distance an answer came back.
"Who's dat a-calling?" came in a rich negro voice.
"We are," answered Mark. "Two boys."
"Whar is you-uns?"
"Up a tree near the river. Our boat drifted away and your dogs treed us."
"Am dat so? Did you say two boys?"
"Yes."
"Is you-uns armed?"
"If we were you'd have some dead dogs around here," put in Bob.
"What fo' you-uns come ashoah?" asked the voice, and now a burly negro put in an appearance under the tree. He had a smoky barn lantern in one hand and a stout club in the other.
"We didn't come ashore here," answered Mark. "We landed some distance above here, during the storm. Then our boat drifted down the stream and we followed along the river bank, until your dogs came for us."
"Did dem dorgs bite you-uns?"
"We didn't give them the chance," said Bob.
"Whar you-uns gwine?"
"To Cairo, if we can make it."
A little additional talk followed, and at last the negro was convinced that they meant no harm. Then he called off the bloodhounds and chained them up.
"To tell de truf, I didn't know da was loose," said he. "Colonel Racket mustah hab fogotten bound dem."
"Who is Colonel Racket?" questioned Mark.
"De colonel is ma mastah, sah—he owns dis place, sah."
"Is he around?"
"No, sah; he off to de horse races an' won't be back until day aftah to-morrow. He put me in charge. Whar's dat boat you-uns dun spoke 'bout?"
"Out on the river somewhere—she was over yonder a couple of hours ago," answered Bob.
The negro went with them down to the shore and swung the smoky lantern above his head.
"Dar's a scow out dar," he cried, presently.
"That's our boat," cried Mark. "How can we get to her? Have you a rowboat?"
"Suah. Wait, I'll git her," said the negro, and ran off. Soon they saw him returning with a skiff. They entered the craft and in a few minutes were aboard of the scow once more. To their delight they saw that the flat-bottom craft was uninjured and that their store of provisions was safe.
"We might have been miles down the river, if it hadn't been for your hounds," grumbled Bob.
"And had supper too," put in Mark.
"Ain't you-uns had nuffin to eat?"
"No."
"Den come up to de house, an' I'll git Aunt Katie to cook sumfin fo' you-uns. De colonel always treats strangers well."
Having been out in the wet so long, the boys did not object to going where they could dry themselves, and making the scow fast, they followed the negro to the house, which stood on a rise of ground some distance away. The negro cook, Aunt Katie, had gone to bed, but she was aroused, and inside of half an hour had a hot supper ready, which the lads ate with great satisfaction. In the meantime they dried their clothes, so that they felt comfortable once more.
"You-uns kin stay heah all night, if you-uns wants to," said the negro, after consulting the cook.
"Thanks, we will," said Mark, and both were shown to a nicely furnished bedchamber. Here they slept soundly until morning, and then, after breakfast, proceeded on their journey once more.