Wild Western Scenes Part 42

"Now for it, Joe--swim towards the sh.o.r.e with him!" cried Glenn.

"He's almost got my shoulder out of place!" replied Joe, blowing a large quant.i.ty of water out of his mouth.

"I see his fin above the water," said Glenn; "struggle manfully, Joe, and you will capture him yet!"

"I'll die but I'll have him now--after such a ducking as this!" said Joe, approaching the sh.o.r.e with the almost inanimate fish, that was no longer able to contend against his superior strength. When he drew near enough to touch the bottom, he turned his head and beheld his prize floating close behind, and obedient to his will.

It required the strength of both Glenn and Joe to drag the immense catfish (for such it proved to be) from its native element. It was about the length and weight of Joe, and had a mouth of sufficient dimensions to have swallowed a man's head. It was given to the ferrymen, who had witnessed the immersion, and were attracted thither to render a.s.sistance.

"I suppose you have now had enough of the fish?" remarked Glenn, as they retraced their steps homeward.

"I'll acknowledge that I'm satisfied for the present; but I was resolved to have satisfaction!" replied Joe.

"Yes, but you have had it with a vengeance; and I doubt not that your apparent contentment is but cold comfort," continued Glenn.

"I'm not a bit cold--I shan't change my clothes, and I'm ready for any other sport you like," said Joe.

"If you really suffer no inconvenience from the wet--and this fine warm day inclines me to believe you--we will take our guns and walk out to the small lakes on the borders of the prairie."

"Splash it"--began Joe.

"No--_duck_ it," interrupted Glenn.

"Well, I should like to know exactly what you mean--whether you are in earnest about going to the ponds, or whether you are joking me for getting _ducked_--as there's nothing in them now to shoot but _ducks_, and it may have popped into your head just because I had the _ducking_," said Joe.

"I am in earnest," said Glenn; "I do not wish to annoy William, or to meet Roughgrove and Mary until their domestic arrangements are all completed."

"That's strange," said Joe.

"What's strange?" asked Glenn, quickly.

"Why, your not wanting to meet Miss Mary. I say it is most mysteriously strange," replied Joe.

"Say nothing more about it, and think less," said Glenn, striding in advance, while a smile played upon his lip.

"But I can't help dreaming about it--and my dreams all come true,"

said Joe.

"What have you been dreaming--but never mind--bring out the guns,"

said Glenn, pausing at the gate of the inclosure, and not venturing to hear Joe recite the dream about himself and Mary.

When possessed of the necessary implements, they set out towards the groves that bordered the prairie, among which were several lakes of clear water, not more than fifty or sixty paces in diameter, where the various wild fowl, as well as the otter and the muskrat, usually abounded. Our hero had previously antic.i.p.ated some sport of this nature, and constructed blinds on the verge of the lakes, and cut paths through the cl.u.s.tering bushes to reach them stealthily. The lake they now approached was bounded on one side by the green meadow-like prairie, and fringed on the other by hazel thickets, with an occasional towering elm that had survived the autumnal fires.

The morning breeze had subsided, and a delightful calm prevailed. A thousand wild flowers, comprising every hue, filled the air with delicious fragrance, while no sound was heard but the melody of happy birds.

"I think I see a duck!" whispered Joe, as they moved slowly along the path in a stooping posture.

"Where?" asked Glenn, as they crept softly to the blind and cast their eyes over the clear unruffled water.

"I thought I saw one on the muskrat house; but he must have gone to the other side," responded Joe, now looking in vain for it, and closely scanning the little hillocks that had been thrown up in the lake by the muskrats.

"You must have been mistaken," said Glenn; "suppose we go to the other lakes."

"No, I wasn't mistaken--I'd swear to it--be quiet and keep a bright look-out, and we'll see him again in a minute or two," replied Joe, who stood in an att.i.tude of readiness to fire at an instant's warning.

"What is that?" asked Glenn, just then actually observing a small brown object moving behind the hillock.

"Wait till I see a little more of it," said Joe, with his finger on the trigger.

"Don't fire, Joe! its a man's _cap_!" exclaimed Glenn, detecting under the dark brim the large staring eyes of a human being, apparently evincing a sense of imminent peril; and the next moment the muzzle of a gun pointing above their heads came in view.

"Dod rot it, look up that tree!"

The smile that began to play on our hero's features on recognizing the voice of Sneak was quickly dispelled and succeeded by horror when he cast his eyes upward and beheld an enormous panther, stooping, and on the eve of springing upon him!

"Oh!" exclaimed Joe, letting his gun fall, and falling down himself, bereft alike of the power of escape and the ability to resist.

"Be quiet!" said Glenn, endeavouring to raise his gun, which had become entangled in the bushes; but before he could execute his purpose Sneak fired, and the ferocious animal came tumbling down through the branches and fell at his feet.

"Ugh! Goodness!" exclaimed Joe, his hat striken down over his eyes by the descending panther, and, leaping over the frail barrier of bushes into the water, he plunged forward and executed a series of diving evolutions, as if still endeavouring to elude the clutches of the carnivorous beast, which he imagined was after him.

"Dod--come out of the pond! Its dead--didn't you hear _me_ shoot?"

said Sneak, who had by this time paddled a little canoe in which he had been seated to the sh.o.r.e. But Joe continued his exercises, his crushed hat not only depriving him of sight, but rendering him deaf to the laughter that burst from Glenn and Sneak. Sneak ran round to the opposite side of the lake to a point that Joe was approaching, (though all unconscious of his destination,) and remained there till the poor fellow pushed his half-submerged head against the gra.s.s, when he seized him furiously and bore him a few paces from the water, in spite of his cries and struggles.

"_I_ ain't the painter!" said Sneak, at length weary of the illusion, and dragging Joe's hat from his head.

"Ha! hang it! ha!" cried Joe, staring at Sneak and Glenn in bewilderment. "Where is it?" he cried, when in some degree recovered from his great perturbation.

"Didn't you hear _me_ shoot? Of course its dead!" replied Sneak.

"Which do you prefer, Joe, _ducking_ or _fis.h.i.+ng_?" asked Glenn.

"I never saw a feller _duck_ his head so," said Sneak.

"Ha! ha! ha! you thought I was frightened, and trying to get away from the panther! But you were _much_ mistaken. I was chasing a muskrat--I got wet in the river, and was determined to see--"

"You couldn't see your own nose!" interrupted Sneak.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He plunged forward, and executed a series of diving evolutions.--P. 240]

"If I couldn't see, I suppose I could hear him run!" replied Joe.

"You couldn't 'ave heard thunder!" said Sneak.

"Did you ever try it?" asked Joe.

"No," replied Sneak.

"Then you don't know," replied Joe; "and now I'm ready to kill a duck," he continued, looking up at a number of water-fowl sailing round and awaiting their departure to dip into the water.