The High School Boys in Summer Camp Part 41

"Nice fellow! Nice fellow!" d.i.c.k called mockingly. "Wouldn't you like to have me come down to talk with you?"

Attracted by the voice, the bull raised its head, showing its flaming eyes.

"I wonder!" mused d.i.c.k, half aloud, as he leaned out cautiously over a limb. "I wonder."

Then, by way of finding out, he dropped the noose suddenly. It fell over the animal's head and around its neck.

Warned by the touch of the rope, the bull backed hastily off, nearly hauling the high school boy out of the tree.

"There's just one chance to get you, and that's happening now,"

mused d.i.c.k Prescott, as, still holding to the rope, he fairly shot down the tree trunk.

For an instant the bull watched as though incredulous. It gave d.i.c.k time to touch his feet to the ground, pa.s.sing the rope loosely once around the tree trunk.

As the bull lumbered forward Prescott pulled on his rope, while retreating in the opposite direction.

All in a twinkling the bull's head was close to the tree, and d.i.c.k with the end of the rope in his hands, and aided by the twist around the tree, had a leverage that enable him to hold the bull there.

For a few moments the dirt fairly flew before the maddened animal's efforts to free itself. Then, finding itself a prisoner, with its head fastened close to the tree, the bull again stopped to consider.

"You fellows can come over here now," d.i.c.k called. "The bull is safely caught---provided neither the rope nor the tree break."

With a yell of delight d.i.c.k's chums ran to the spot. Dr. Bentley came, too, though he walked.

d.i.c.k's success did not seem destined, how ever to last. A halt and a rest seemed to give the bull strength far greater than it had used in pulling against the rope before. With an angry snort the animal dug its hind hoofs into the soil and began to back away.

"Help!" called Prescott, suddenly, for he found the rope slipping through his fingers, the friction burning his flesh. Mr. Bull had succeeded in backing four feet away from the tree. He would speedily be able to free himself altogether.

Tom and Dave now came running. They threw their weight and muscle upon the rope to hinder the captive animal. But that great creature seemed likely soon to overcome the strength of all those combined against him.

"Come on!" called d.i.c.k, backing away on a new course. "Off this way, to the next tree behind me. Hold on and pull for every pound you're worth."

Seeing his opponents plainly engaged in making some new move the wild animal halted, eyeing them balefully. That hesitation proved fatal to his immediate freedom, for d.i.c.k had succeeded in getting the rope around the tree behind him. Now he took another quick hitch, supplementing this with a knot, then another and a third.

"I guess we may all let go of the rope now," Prescott smiled.

"I don't believe the bull can pull successfully against that triple knot."

Mr. Bull was trying it, at any rate. His angry bellows were almost as loud as the roaring of a lion. Dirt flew. The beast exerted its whole power in its efforts to get free.

"The knot will hold," p.r.o.nounced Dr. Bentley, after a critical survey. "The great danger is friction, which may wear out that part of the rope hitched around the first tree. If that happens we shall all have to run for our lives. Come back here, Prescott!

What are you going to do?"

For d.i.c.k, leaving the little group, had started on a run for the bull.

CHAPTER XXIII

WHAT TAG "BORROWED" FROM THE DOCTOR

"I want to see how the rope is faring," d.i.c.k explained.

"If it fares badly," called Dr. Bentley dryly, "you will find your curiosity possibly fatal. Come back here. It is time for us to be getting away. I am sorry we have no fire arms, or we could settle Mr. Bull very quickly. Come along, boys! Come, d.i.c.k!"

But Prescott, for once, didn't prove over, tractable. He went closer, anxiously studying the condition of the rope wound around the first tree. Until d.i.c.k was ready to go none of his chums would leave the scene. Dr. Bentley had turned away; but when he found himself unaccompanied, he wheeled about once more.

"You can't do anything---except run in danger, d.i.c.k," the physician called anxiously.

"I am studying this business trying to find out if there isn't something that I can do," Prescott replied.

"There isn't," Dr. Bentley a.s.sured the boy, walking over to him, "and by staying you're only putting your life in almost certain jeopardy."

But Prescott shook his head and went on studying the turn of rope around the tree trunk.

"You foolhardy fellow, I wish I had authority to order you away from here," exclaimed the physician irascible.

"I know you think I'm foolhardy, sir," d.i.c.k answered respectfully, "but, from the way the rope is fraying, this beast is going to be free presently. I feel that I simply have to find a way to prevent his doing mischief. We boys can take to trees, but how about the girls? How about Mrs. Bentley?"

"They can get inside of the wooden houses at need," urged Dr.

Bentley. "It is hardly likely that even a crazy bull would attack a wooden house."

"He might charge through our camp, though, and frankly, doctor, we can't afford to lose that camp," Prescott argued.

"You other boys get back!" commanded Dr. Bentley, but d.i.c.k's chums came closer.

"Hoo-hoo! hoo-hoo!" sounded a masculine voice from the direction of d.i.c.k & Co.'s camp.

"Hoo-hoo!" d.i.c.k answered, in his loudest tone. "Who are you?"

"Hibbert," came the reply. "I understand you are bull chasing!"

"Yes."

"Want any help?"

"Yes; if you're an expert in handling wild bulls," d.i.c.k shouted back, between his hands.

"I guess that will hold him, for a little while," chuckled Dave.

"The idea of Hibbert handling wild bulls with those dainty little white hands of his!"

Soon the sound of running steps was heard. Then on the scene came Hibbert, carrying a second rope that he had found.

"A queer hitch-up you've got there," murmured the dapper little man, as he halted near the group.

"Yes; and the bull is going to get away pretty soon, according to all predictions," replied Tom Reade. "Though, perhaps, Mr.

Hibbert, you may have an idea that hasn't occurred to our addled brains."