CHAPTER VISURPRISING FRANK
There are times when one simply acts from impulse rather than from design. And this was certainly one of those occasions.
Bob had been thrown aside by the stroke from the heavy paw of the descending beast. He simply kept on rolling, and thus avoided being pounced upon when the panther, like a domestic cat cheated out of its prey by the first jump, turned to make a second attempt.
Better still, Bob had been wise enough not to loosen his grip on his gun. Hence he was not unarmed when he threw himself behind a friendly tree, and fumbled at the mechanism of the repeating rifle, meaning to eject the useless empty brass shell, and bring another from the magazine into the firing chamber.
It seems a very simple act when attempted under ordinary conditions. But if a young hunter can manage to accomplish the same when an angry panther is within five feet of him, andready for a renewal of its attack, he deserves much praise. Four out of five would make a mess of trying to work the “pump-gun,” with results not at all pleasant.
But Bob went through with the two movements necessary to attain this end without a hitch. This left his gun in condition for immediate use, with the hammer pushed back, ready for a discharge.
Just then he saw that the big cat was about to launch itself through the air again. It had crouched, with its head between its forepaws; and there was a “hunching” movement to the whole body. Bob had seen exactly the same when a pet Maltese cat was about to spring on an unsuspecting sparrow.
He knew that a second would count for a great deal under such circumstances. It would not do to even try and raise the gun to his shoulder to aim; for the panther might be in the air before he could glance along that shiny barrel.
Instinct again forced Bob to pull the trigger. How he did it he never could explain; but he fired the shot from his hip, and with his eyes glued upon the figure of his enemy.
Bob had all the instincts of a true hunter. When he heard a story told that had to do with an encounter with dangerous game he never failed to ask a multitude of questions. And in this way he had gained a pretty good idea of how successfulbig game hunters carry themselves under perilous conditions.
Hence he had no sooner fired than he hastened to fling himself behind another tree that happened to be within reach.
Something came slap against it. He heard a low growl, that seemed to change into short angry whines; and glancing around the tree, after he had made his gun serviceable again, he discovered the animal kicking its last, biting at every object within reach of its teeth, and evidently dying hard.
There was no longer any danger to be apprehended from this source; and it was only his desire not to allow needless pain that urged Bob to once more throw his rifle forward, and pull the trigger.
Then the panther lay very still, and the lad knew that the last spark of life had departed.
Bob stood there, looking around him. He was trembling violently, yet it was the result of excitement and action, rather than anything like fear.
In fact, one thing had followed so fast upon the heels of others, that thus far he had not found time to be afraid.
“Probably I would have been, if the beast had given me a chance,” he said afterward, when telling Frank about the happening.
He had done an amazing thing—killed a deerand a panther, both within the space of three minutes or less.
Of course Frank must have heard the several shots, and might be growing anxious about him. So Bob decided to return to camp. On the horses they could cover the intervening ground in a short time; and after that take as much of the venison along as Frank thought best.
After noting the spot so that he could easily locate it again, Bob hurried away. He found his chum looking anxiously for him; and noted the smile of relief that came upon Frank’s face as he broke cover close by.
“He got away after all that hammering, eh?” remarked the prairie lad; but in a good natured manner.
“After we start, suppose we run over that way a little,” said Bob. “It won’t take a long time; and there’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Sure,” replied Frank, as he prepared to mount. “No use asking what it is; for once you’ve made up your mind to keep a surprise, a mountain wouldn’t moveyou, Bob.”
First of all, Bob led him by a round-about way to where the deer lay, just as it had fallen, although Bob had stopped long enough to bleed his quarry.
“How’s that?” he asked a little proudly.
Frank jumped down, and bent over the animal.And, just as his comrade anticipated, he almost immediately exclaimed.
“Your bullet took him directly back of the foreshoulder, Bob; and must have cut into his heart. Then what in the wide world did you want to fire twice again for?”
“Oh! I had a little dispute with a rival hunter, and he thought I’d played him a mean trick to step in when he was creeping up on the game. So we had it out; and if you come this way, Frank, I’ll show you how it all ended.”
When the wondering Frank looked down on the sleek form of the mountain cat, he emitted a whistle that meant astonishment.
“Great governor! however did you do it; and come out of the scrape without even a single scratch, too?” he asked, turning on Bob.
“Well, hardly that,” replied the other, wincing when Frank unconsciously laid a hand on his left shoulder. “If you look where you touched me you’ll see that my jacket and flannel shirt are clawed some. I reckon there’s need of that wonderful permanganate of potash wash that you think so much of.”
“And you’ll have to let me look at that shoulder right away, son,” declared Frank. “I never take any chances when clawed by an animal that lives on flesh. If blood poisoning ever sets in, it’s bound to be a bad job. And while I’mworking you just pitch in, and tell me all about it; d’ye hear?”
Of course Bob complied. He was just aching to tell the story anyhow, boy-like. And Frank could easily picture the exciting scene, as he looked around him, and noted where the beast had first clawed up the ground when he just missed the form of the human hunter who had invaded his private preserves.
“Whew! things seem to be coming your way right along, Bob,” he remarked after both the story, and his dressing of the trifling wounds, were finished.
“They say it’s better to be born lucky than rich,” his chum laughed. “And if I can keep on in this way I’ve no kick coming. But how about the deer meat, Frank? We ought to take some of that along with us, hadn’t we?”
“I should say yes,” declared Frank, as he pulled out his hunting knife, and once more moved toward the spot where the deer lay.
“But I’d like ever so much to have this nice pelt to remember the affair by,” Bob remarked, casting a regretful eye back toward the dead panther.
“Well, I’ll take it off, if you will carve some meat from your deer,” Frank answered, knowing just how the tenderfoot felt about the matter. “Of course, we couldn’t think of taking it alongwith us now; but I’ll hang it up in a tree, and on our way home we’ll try and remember it. How’s that, Bob?”
“Fine and dandy,” replied the other. “I won’t promise to cut the steaks as well as you could; but I’ll do my best; and they can be eaten anyhow. So here goes!”
He had, before now, taken some lessons in cutting up game, and was not altogether ignorant of the method. And by the time the practical Frank had hung the skin of the panther high up on a branch, Bob was on hand with a bundle of fresh meat, wrapped in a part of the deer’s hide.
“Say, if we keep on like this I reckon our new trip will see all the others, and go them one better,” declared Bob, after he had fastened the package to his horse.
They rode off, and Frank, having found the pass leading over the mountain ridge, the laborious task of climbing the height was commenced.
But both horses proved game. At half-past three Frank announced that they had ascended as high as the canyon ran. From that point the pass would decline, making it much easier for the animals. Here Bob saw his first flock of great vultures, perched upon some of the high rocks the balloonist had spoken of.
During the balance of the afternoon they rode steadily downward; and as the evening drew nearFrank declared that they were going to make their point, which was to leave the mountain range behind them.
“To-morrow we cross another mesa,” he said, “and then come to the mountains where the Cherry Blossom blooms.”
“Then we stand a chance of getting there by to-morrow night?” asked Bob.
“Unless something stops us that I don’t see just now,” replied the prairie boy, as he looked around as usual for a good camp-site.
Before the sun’s glow had begun to fade from the glorious western heavens the two saddle boys had turned their horses loose, and were hard at work with their preparations for spending another night under the moon and stars.