The Peril Finders

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by George Manville Fenn


  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  CHRIS HAS A FIT.

  Every one made a dash to avert the disaster on hearing their leader'swords, but the stampede had already begun. Disaster of a serious kindwas about to fall upon the little expedition, and but for the energy ofGriggs and Chris matters would have been worse than they were.

  For panic had seized upon two or three of the mules, which took alarmfrom the startled mustangs, and directly after they would all have beenin headlong flight, kicking wildly as they tore away, when the samethought came to two of the party who had the energy and nerve to put itinto action.

  The idea was that even then, frightened as they were, the mules wouldobey their old habit, so driving their heels into their snortingmustangs' sides, Griggs and Chris raced after Skeeter as he was tearingalong at full speed, shaking his load loose, and making his bell jangleloudly as he squealed and galloped.

  Almost at the same moment the two pursuers grasped the mule's rein oneither side and drew their own, with the result that with the bellringing still loudly, three animals were going along swiftly closeabreast, but moment by moment becoming more and more under control,Skeeter the calmest of all, for he acted as if he felt comparativelysafe with a stout cob pressing against each side.

  The rest of the mules were still galloping, but Skeeter led, and hisbehaviour began to influence his companions to such an extent that asthey grew farther from the object of their alarm the kicking andplunging gradually subsided. The effort of going full speed under loadsgenerally carried at a walk began to tell, and at the end of half-a-mileall were under control and following their bell-bearing leader, tillSkeeter was checked, no serpents were in view, and the controllers ofthe wild race sat panting upon their mustangs, ready to round up anymule which made a fresh start, and every living thing panting from theirlate exertions, the bipeds eagerly calculating the damage that had beendone.

  "Sit fast," cried the doctor, "and be ready in case they make a freshdash. Griggs! Chris! splendid; but keep fast hold of that bell-mule'srein."

  "Got him tight, father," cried Chris.

  "Same here, doctor," panted Griggs. "He'll have to leave his headbehind this time if he tries to make a start. Say, Squire Ned," hecontinued to the boy, who now joined him, "you were grumbling abouthaving no adventures. What do you say to this for a regular red-hotone, quite noo out of nature's oven?"

  "Oh, I don't know," cried Ned excitedly. "Do you think the rattlesnakeswill pursue us?"

  "No that I don't, my lad; but I say, doctor, just look."

  The leader was already gazing back over the ground they had covered, tosee that it was dotted with packs and various odds and ends sent flyingfrom the mules' loads, from a tin cross-handled kettle to bags of mealand a great elongated roll which represented the tent.

  The doctor groaned, for there lay the scattered objects in sight, whilehow many lay beyond his ken he was afraid to think.

  Of course he felt that they could be collected again, and that they werenot of a nature to have suffered much damage, but it would probably bethe beginning of another stampede to force any of the animals back alonga track infested by serpents, and a task that would try the nerves ofthe stoutest of them seeing how horribly insidious was the danger, whenthe lifting of a bale might mean the incurring of a deadly stroke from ahidden foe.

  In all probability no reader of this ever encountered a mule teamrepresented by so many sets of four legs, a head, and tail, and a bodyhidden by the load secured upon the backs of the owners of the legs bymeans of cords tied with what a mule-driver calls the diamond-hitch.The reader has also probably never seen a mule dissatisfied with theload it has been called upon to bear, and doing its best to shed thesame load. Every one is aware of the brute's kicking powers, but inthis respect it is at its best when, plunging and flinging out its legs,it squeezes itself up tightly within its skin and tries its best--worstwould be the proper term--to shoot itself out through the diamonds ofrope which form the hitch.

  Griggs had secured most of the loads that day, and he had done well; butall did not stand the strain, and the appearance of the mules standing,hanging of head, stamping, twitching their ears and whisking their tailsto get rid of the flies, was painfully ludicrous.

  Skeeter, as became him, being leader, and, thanks to the way in which hehad been checked, was the most reputable-looking of the team, for otherswere horrible. Here stood one mule with his load resting upon the sand,the animal striding across it, head and fore-legs in front, hind-legsand tail behind, and nothing upon its back but tightened ropes.

  A little farther on was one which had shed its load and stood withdrooping head, looking as if it had been ornamented with a tangle ofrope.

  Again, not many yards away was another snuffling and nuzzling at thesand, which it blew aside now and then with a snort which raised alittle cloud--doing all this under difficulties, being nearlyoverbalanced by its load, which had slipped over till it bulged straightout from its side. Another sat up like a cat, being held in position byits pack, which had slipped over its tail, while again another hadkicked till it went down upon its nose, kneeling, so to speak, with itshind-quarters high up, and its load like a pair of panniers resting uponits neck.

  "What a horrible confusion!" cried the doctor, and he was going to saysomething more, but his words were drowned by Skeeter, who had evidentlybeen surveying the wreck of the train and the dismal condition of hiscompanions, especially that of the one farthest off, which had tried toroll its load off till it had been brought up short by getting its legsperpendicular to paw the air--being unable to get over to right or left,consequent upon the two packs thoroughly wedging it up, so that itsrazor back resembled the hull of a boat whose keel was fitted in thechocks, the pawing legs looking like so many motive masts.

  All this seemed to be too much for Skeeter, who stretched out his necktill his muzzle was in a line therewith, literally shed tears, openedhis mouth, distended his nostrils, and with ears quivering, emitted themost startling sound ever heard. It was not a neigh like his motherwould have given, nor a bray such as his father would have uttered, buta hoarse yell made up of the most discordant elements of both, and itwas no wonder that the doctor's voice was drowned.

  "Be quiet, you brute!" he cried angrily, making a pretence of kicking itin the pack; and then he stared in wonder, for it seemed as if a freshmisfortune had affected one member of the expedition in a peculiar way.That member was Chris, who suddenly dropped his hold of Skeeter's rein,and with his face horribly distorted, began to roll about in his saddle.

  "Oh, Griggs!" he gasped. "Ned! Somebody! Hold me on."

  "What is it, boy?" cried the doctor--"Bitten?"

  "N-n-n-n-no, father," he panted. And then, "Oh dear! Oh dear! I--I--I--I--I can't help it. I--"

  There were other words, but they were confused and strange; but thoughthey did not convey in words the meaning of the seizure, they pointedout what was the matter. For it became evident that Chris was laughingwildly--madly--hysterically, and to such an extent that he had lost allcontrol of himself, and had hard work to keep in the saddle.

  To make matters worse, the mirth proved contagious to such an extentthat Griggs sat looking at him, then at the mules, and back again, withhis mouth expanding into a broad grin, while Ned slid off his mustangquietly, held on to the rein, and then lay down in the sand, to laugh inthe same uncontrolled fashion.

  "Well," cried Bourne angrily, "this is a nice way to treat ourmisfortunes!"

  "I--I--I can't help it, father," panted Ned, and he laughed more thanever, while Wilton's lips as he sat looking on began to quiver and thenwiden out.

  "Here, stop it, you two," he growled at last. "Come and help collectthe things."

  "I--I can't yet," panted Ned, who laughed more than ever, till Wiltongave the doctor and Bourne a sharp look, and then said aloud--

  "Oh, let them laugh it out; but I say, are those some of therattlesnakes coming after us?"

  "Eh?" cried Ned, who was sobered
in an instant, and sat up to exclaim,"Which way? Whereabouts?"

  "I--I--I can't help it if they do come," gurgled out Chris. "Oh,father, plea-please stop me; it hurts. Gi-give me something--a drop ofwater."

  "Yes, the boy's quite hysterical," said the doctor. "Water. Ah! Whereare the kegs?"

  All looked round, but no kegs were visible. There was the mule thatshould have borne them, though, with the rough pack-saddle upon whichthey had been lashed one on each side, twisting its head round andstriving to reach a fly that was busy at work depositing its eggs in theanimal's coat, the teeth being not long enough to scrape it out.

  "Why, the water-kegs have gone!" cried the doctor wildly.

  "Here, catch hold of the mule, somebody," cried Griggs, and Chris wassobered in an instant, for the water represented life to all, and it wasno time for laughing then.

 

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