CHAPTER XXI.
CHARLEY'S SECRET EXPEDITION.
While Charley sat in the tree-top scanning the island in search ofpossible squatters who might interfere with the gathering of the rice,he saw something else that put a new idea into his head, and before hiswatch was done he had quite made up his mind to do something brilliantwhich would surprise and delight his companions.
What he saw was nothing more remarkable than a calf, or rather a youngbull, perhaps a year old, browsing in the edge of a thicket half a mileor more to the west of the camp, and not many hundreds of yards from theshore. There is nothing remarkable in such a sight as that, but thecircumstances of this case were peculiar, and so the sight set Charley,thinking.
In the first place, he remembered what Ned had told him and Jack aboutthe wild cattle on the island, and reflecting that it had been a goodmany years since the original stock of animals were abandoned, he couldnot help regarding this yearling bullock as something more than a merebullock. It was game; a wild animal roaming at will over unoccupiedlands, and to kill it would be quite as good sport as deer-stalking orbear-hunting.
Then, too, Charley and his companions were really in sore need of meat.An exclusive diet of fish, oysters, and other such things soon weariesthe palate, and becomes exceedingly distasteful. It is true that Ned'sturtle had somewhat broken this monotony, but the relief had been onlypartial, and the boys very eagerly craved meat--beef, mutton, or pork.They had made no effort to get such meat, only because they had no ideathat any such was to be had.
The snake dinner had never been repeated. It is true that the snake wassavory, and the boys had spoken truthfully when they declared themselvespleased with it. But that was while their hunger lasted, and when theyhad finished they had no longer a keen appetite to oppose to prejudice,so that, with full stomachs, the old objections returned, and all threeboys were seized with a peculiar loathing for the food they had eaten.Perhaps it was only because they had eaten too much; but, whatever thereason was, the fact remained that they were all sickened by the thoughtof what they had eaten, and, while they said nothing about this feeling,no one of them ever proposed to repeat the experiment of eating snake.
Now Charley meant to have an abundance of meat against which no suchobjection could be urged. Here was a fat young steer whose beef was tobe had for the taking. How to get it was at first a perplexing question.There was no gun with which to shoot the bullock, and there were no dogsin camp with which to chase it; but after some reflection Master Charleywas confident that he could kill the animal with the means at disposal.
He said nothing about either his discovery or his purpose when hiscompanions returned to camp, because he wished to give them a completesurprise.
He merely said that he wanted to make a little hunting expedition, andthat perhaps he might succeed in knocking over a rabbit or some otheranimal good to eat. His companions had little hope of any such goodluck, but they offered no objection, and Charley, arming himself withthe hunting-knife and the hatchet, set forth on his quest.
He found the bullock not far from the place at which he had seen itbefore, quietly browsing in the edge of the timber. After carefullyreconnoitering the position, Charley went into the woods and crept uponthe animal very cautiously through the thick undergrowth. His plan wasto creep up in this way until he should be within a few feet of hisprey, and then, springing forward suddenly, to strike the bullockbetween his young horns with the hatchet. Charley had seen a butcherkill a large steer by a comparatively slight blow, delivered at theright place on the animal's head, and he was very sure that he knewwhere to strike.
As he crept up he carefully avoided making any kind of noise, but whenwithin a dozen feet of the place from which he meant to spring, he madea misstep, broke a stick, and alarmed the bullock, which quietly trottedaway.
Charley was disappointed, but by no means disheartened. He had only tobegin over again, and proceed more cautiously next time. He crept veryslowly and consumed nearly half an hour in his approach. This time hebroke no sticks and made no noise of any kind. Nearer and nearer hedrew. He could hear the bullock's breathing, but still he must getnearer. A log lay just in front of him, and he could not well springover it before striking, without alarming the animal and missing hisaim. He must creep around this obstruction first, and this he didsuccessfully, but the bullock, though not alarmed, moved away justbefore Charley reached a position from which to strike. It did not run,but quietly walked away to nibble some grass which grew at a spot adozen paces distant.
This second disappointment shook Charley's already strained nervesconsiderably, but, impatient as he now was, he controlled himself andresumed his silent advance. Luckily the animal's head was turneddirectly away from him, and that fact greatly lessened the danger of hisdiscovery. His chance was now so good, indeed, that a few moments moremight have brought his attempt to a completely successful issue, if hehad been content to follow his original plan. But just as he was in theact of springing forward to deliver his blow, with every prospect ofsuccess, a new thought struck Charley. It was easy to spring upon thebullock's back, and from that point Charley thought he could deal notone, but many successive blows, thus making sure work of what might nototherwise be sure.
Accordingly he leaped upon the animal's back, and as he did so thestartled creature sprang forward through the bushes, nearly unseatinghis rider. The blow which Charley tried to deliver was a disastrousfailure. He missed the brute's head, and the hatchet slipping from hishand, was hurled into the thicket.
Charley had no time to think of the hatchet, however. The infuriatedbullock plunged headlong through the thicket and then across an openglade and into the woods again, going in the direction of the camp, andCharley had all that he could do to keep his seat. He was beaten blackand blue by the saplings encountered; his face was scratched, and hisclothes torn almost to shreds. Still, seeing that the bullock was goingtoward the camp, he held on, with an unreasoning impression that, onceat the camp, the animal would be secured.
Jack and Ned happened to be outside the stockade when Charley camedashing past, but of course they could do nothing, and a moment afterthey caught sight of their companion, he was swept from his seat by anoverhanging branch of a tree, and the frightened bullock continued hisimpetuous flight alone.
Jack and Ned hastened to their friend's assistance. For a moment Charleyseemed stunned, but he soon came to himself sufficiently to ask in aquerulous tone:
"Why didn't you head him off?"
It was not easy to convince Charley that they had been entirelypowerless to capture the bullock, so fixed had been his determination tosecure so valuable a prize; but after a while he began to see matters intheir true light, and to understand that Ned and Jack could not havestopped the animal, even if they had been prepared for his coming, as infact they were not.
Then Charley examined his own bruises, which were pretty severe, thoughno bones were broken.
"The worst of the damage," he said, after awhile, "is the loss of thehatchet, and I suppose we shall find that."
THE END OF CHARLEY'S ADVENTURE.]
"Did you lose the hunting-knife too?" asked Jack.
"There!" exclaimed Charley; "what an idiot I am, to be sure! I had thatin my belt all the time, and I might have got the beef if I had onlythought to use it!"
This was true enough. While going through the thicket, Charley hadenough to do to cling to the back of the bullock, but while crossing theopen glade he might easily have drawn and used the long hunting-knife ifhe had thought of it. But he had not thought of it, and it was now toolate for the thinking to do any good.
"It is just as well as it is," said Ned.
"Just as well!" exclaimed Charley; "well, I don't see that. I don't knowhow it is with you, but for my part, I'd relish a beefsteak just now."
"So would I," answered Ned; "but that yearling isn't ours, and we've noright to kill it, I suppose."
"Why not? It's a wild animal, isn't it?"
"I hardly
think so. The squatters must have killed all the wild cattlelong ago, and this tame calf probably belongs to them."
"Well, they helped themselves pretty freely to our things, so Ishouldn't be a bit sorry if I had killed the animal while I thought it awild one," said Charley, rather ruefully.
The search for the hatchet was a somewhat protracted one, but thatimportant tool was found at last, and so, if Charley's effort toreplenish the camp larder did no good, it at least did no harm beyondbruising that young huntsman's limbs, scratching his face, and tearinghis clothes.
The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast Page 22