The Pike's Peak Rush Part 10

Jenny was quite ready to leave, but Duke was more reluctant. However, on started the Pike's Peak Limited again.

"We'll stop for breakfast when we're at a safer distance," quoth Harry.

"Hope we reach water tonight."

Yes, the great herd was perceptibly nearer when they pulled out. But at the rate it was moving it could be left behind while it peacefully grazed. The thin brush was a-sparkle with scant dew, soon dried by the bright sun. The hoof-prints of the second horseman party showed plainly in the sod and sandy gravel. Terry acted as guide, Harry, following with the cart, urged on Duke and Jenny.

"Reckon we'll come to another stake today," called back Terry.

"Reckon we will," answered Harry.

The rumble of the herd gradually died. The sun mounted higher, and Terry was thinking upon breakfast, when a sudden hail from Harry halted him.

"Wait! Listen!"

Harry had stopped.

"Whoa!" And Duke and Jenny stopped, not at all unwillingly.

Terry stopped, poised. Another dull rumble! More buffalo? Nothing was in sight before or on either hand. The rumble came from behind--and yonder, against the sun, welled a cloud of dust.

"They've stampeded!" he cried.

"Sounds like it. And the question is, which way are they going?"

That was speedily answered.

"Gee whillikens!" exclaimed Terry. "They're coming this way!"

A swell of the prairie had concealed all save the dust; but now atop the swell had appeared black dots, succeeded instantly by a long wave of solid black, as over and down surged the whole herd, covering the back trail and pouring on with astonishing, not to say alarming rapidity.

The flanks extended widely; there was no time for escaping to one side or the other. In fact, the cart seemed to be right in the middle of the broad path.

Harry acted quickly.

"Watch the animals!" he ordered. "I'll tend to this end. Don't lose your head, Terry. We can split 'em."

He limped to the rear of the wagon. Terry ran back to Duke--and saw that Harry had jerked the shot-gun from where it was stowed, and was posted out behind the wagon. The crowded ranks of the buffalo were so close that the earth trembled. Jenny trembled, also, and Duke was pawing and staring side-ways. Shep, barking wildly, took refuge underneath the wagon.

Terry seized the whip, dropped by Harry, and threatened Duke from before.

"Steady, Duke! Jenny! Whoa! Whoa, now!"

"Steady, everybody!" yelled Harry, above the up-roar. The stampeding herd was upon them. Three or four of the fleetest cows raced past, galloping, heads low, little tails c.o.c.ked, with the peculiar rolling motion of the running buffalo; and close after pressed the whole ma.s.s--a crowded frontage of thundering hoofs, s.h.a.ggy heads, bulging eyes, lolling tongues, huge shoulders lunging, lion-like manes tossing, and slim, smooth hind-quarters bobbing up and down. And back from the front rank, these were all mixed together--solid!

Terry's heart beat wildly. An instant more, and----! Why, the cart outfit was only a speck in the path of this darkly rushing avalanche which would swallow them all in a jiffy and never know; would mash them flat!

He caught his breath, while trying to quiet Duke and Jenny. There was no use in running away--Harry stood braced--how small he looked--but he was plucky--and now he actually ran forward, a few steps, right against the onward plunging rank--waved his hat--shouted--and bang! bang! warned the shot-gun, belching its challenge into the buffalos' faces.

"Duke! Jenny! Whoa!" shrieked Terry, desperately--and now gladly, for another miracle had occurred. The foremost buffalo, as if suddenly aware of the cart, and the human beings, had veered aside, to right and left, avoiding Harry, and the cart, and all; and following their leaders, to right and left were veering the others, here at the middle, so that the divided herd began to stream past in a heaving, jostling current, on either hand. It had been split, by Harry; and the Pike's Peak Limited was an island.

Harry continued to yell and wave his hat and arms. He stood there fearlessly, at the split. At first the split was narrow--Terry almost could touch the s.h.a.ggy forms as they lurched by. He started to yell and wave, also, and help widen the split--for it did widen--but speedily he had to quit. Duke and Jenny were nervous enough already. Jenny snorted, reared; Duke shook his head and strained from side to side.

"Duke! Whoa! Steady, boy! Back, Jenny!"

The pounding of the incessant hoofs was like the long-roll of a great drum. Thick rose the dust, but not so much from the earth as from the big hairy bodies, to which had clung dried dirt. Bulls, cows, and calves; cows, calves, and bulls--forming a stifling, living lane of constant motion.

Terry scarcely could hear himself.

"Duke! Whoa, boy! Steady, there! Whoa, Jenny!"

Would the herd never be past? Yes, yonder it was thinning--and farther beyond, the stragglers were in sight. Good!

"Duke! Be careful, Duke!" He was growing more unmanageable. Terry danced before him, and threatened. "Whoa Jenny! Whoa, Duke!" And--"Duke! Duke!

DUKE! Whoa-oa! DUKE!" But no use; with shake of angry head and flirt of wickedly c.o.c.ked tail Duke bolted; dragged Jenny and the cart together, knocked Terry sprawling--Terry clutched vainly at the cart, was dragged, himself, a few feet, staggered up, hatless, stumbled on the frightened Shep, and gazed after with a wail: "Oh, jiminy!"

They were away, in the dusty wake of the flying herd: Duke galloping, Jenny galloping, the cart bounding.

Harry had turned just in time to witness. His sweat-streaked face gaped, amazed, perplexed, and hardened into sudden resolution as whirling he sprang forward. But Terry was as quick. Grabbing up his hat as he went, he launched in the pursuit. Out-stripping him, Shep ran furiously, barking, and Harry kept close behind.

The cart was plainly visible, in an open place among the stragglers at the rear of the herd. Duke lumbered, Jenny lumbered, the cart lumbered, and holding to the chase lumbered in their heavy boots Terry and Harry.

Soon it was evident that a harnessed buffalo was no match for free buffalo. Duke's outfit was being left; buffalo after buffalo pa.s.sed it, until presently Duke and Jenny and the cart were traveling alone. But they kept going, on a stampede of their own, imitating the insensate herd.

"Darn that Duke!" panted Terry. And he shouted: "Sic', Shep! Turn 'em!

Sic', sic'! Catch 'em, boy!"

Shep darted gaily. He fairly tore through the brush. Now he had reached the cart--and now he was barking alongside the crazy team. Would he do it? _Could_ he do it? Yes, he was trying to head them. He had gained the front; yapping, darting, snapping, he was crossing back and forth before Duke's nose. Down lower dropped Duke's burly head; he charged; Shep dodged, and returned.

The cart swung and tilted, and out was bounced the cask of sauerkraut.

"Hurrah!" cheered Harry.

On at a tangent lumbered Duke and Jenny--Shep was bothering them seriously--and out bounced the water keg.

"Great Scott!" gasped Harry. "Don't let's lose that keg!"

"Shep'll stop 'em! Shep'll stop 'em!" panted Terry. "Hurrah!" His throat was tight, his heart thumped tremendously, his legs were like lead, but he had hopes.

Shep knew his business of turning cattle. Now wherever the enraged and frantic Duke headed, the pesky, yapping, snapping dog was under his nose. Jenny was growing tired of being dragged hither-thither; she detested dogs, and she despised buffalo, tame or wild. Duke, at his wits' end, and tired also, stopped short; she stopped; Duke pawed and shook his locks and rumbled, keen yet for just one good chance at his tormentor--and Shep, sitting down, with tongue dripping, held the way.

There they were when, breathless, Terry and Harry arrived, to scold the runaways, to praise Shep, and to take stock of damages.

"Not a thing broken, is there?" p.r.o.nounced Harry, still panting, after the hasty survey.

And that appeared to be the case. Of course, the stuff inside the cart was pretty well jumbled; but the frame and wheels seemed all right, and the harness was whole, and only Duke and Jenny themselves were the worse for wear. Their drooping heads and heaving flanks proclaimed that they had run quite far enough.

So, thought Terry, had he and Harry. He felt as though he had run a mile or more. Whew!

"All's well that ends well," a.s.serted Harry, regaining his spirits.

Nothing downed Harry. "Now, first thing to do is to get that keg of water. But I don't suppose we'll ever find the trail. The buffalo must have tramped it out--and we're away off the track, anyway. Shucks!"