Part 18 (2/2)

”Hey! there's a gray squirrel right over your head, Bluff! Watch me give the little beggar a scare, will you?”

He reached over, and picked up one of a number of sticks of wood which had been brought on board at their last stop, being intended to serve as fuel for the little cook stove, after they had been chipped in half, perhaps.

This was a short and heavy one Jerry had selected. Rising to his feet, he gave it one whirl around his head, and then let fly. Jerry had always been reckoned something of a thrower. He often played in the pitcher's box before he went away from home, and was even now a promising fielder on the sub nine at college.

So Frank would not have been very much surprised had he succeeded in knocking the squirrel in question off his perch. But he was very much astonished at the most remarkable consequences of Jerry's shot.

There was an angry scream, such as only an enraged cat could make; and something large and hairy, with extended legs, came floundering down upon the deck of the houseboat directly in front of Bluff. Indeed, in its pa.s.sage, the wildcat, for it turned out to be nothing else, made a vicious stab for Bluff; and that excited as well as alarmed individual was so taken aback, that quite naturally he lost his grip on the railing of the boat, and fell over into the river.

This was getting to be a settled habit with Bluff, for he seemed capable of going overboard on the slightest excuse, just as though he rather liked taking a plunge into the cool waters of the Mississippi.

And the angry cat sprawled there on the deck, yowling and snarling, as if daring anyone to dispute his right to be monarch of all he surveyed.

CHAPTER XIX-A BOBCAT ON BOARD

”Help!” gasped Jerry, who seemed to be in some sort of a pickle, having managed to get his legs crossed in such a way, as he sat there pottering with Will's camera, that in the excitement of the moment he was unable to either rise, or roll out of the danger zone.

As sometimes happens in a case like this, it turned out to be the one least expected to play the part of hero. n.o.body dreamed that Will-quiet, sensitive Will, the artist of the expedition, and a boy given more to dreaming than doing strenuous things-would jump into the breach as he did.

In fact, he was never able to explain it himself, save that somehow he seemed to imagine those clubs on the deck were just made for belaboring a tiger-cat over the head with; and from the fact that Bluff had gone over into the river, with Jerry calling wildly for help, it must be up to him to _do_ something.

Why, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up one of the heavy sticks as though he had been antic.i.p.ating just such a sudden call, and had his plan of campaign already laid out.

”Take care, Will; don't let him get in at you with those sharp claws!”

cried the startled Frank, as he too tried to possess himself of a suitable cudgel, if there chanced to be another worth having in the bunch.

He could not find what he wanted on the spur of the moment-one was too slender to promise any results; while another seemed much too short with which to attack a vicious wildcat.

Will did not appear to expect any help in his fight. The way he kept at it was a revelation to those who watched him, for all the while Frank sought his stick, he kept one eye on the battle, determined to jump in, if necessary, club or no club.

Whack! came the cudgel Will yielded against the side of the bobcat, knocking the savage beast sprawling on the deck; though like his kind the cat could not be kept down, but was on its feet instantly, more angry than ever.

”Whoop! hit him again for his mother!”

It was surely Bluff who gave utterance to that shout. Evidently he had not cared to stay there in the river, while so much that was exciting seemed to be occurring aboard the houseboat; and taking advantage of some objects upon which he was able to seize, Bluff had clambered up far enough to thrust his head over the side, in time to witness that splendid ”home run hit” made by timid Will.

Well, they would hardly be likely to ever call him that again, after seeing how vigorously he went after the now demoralized wildcat, getting in blows whenever an opening occurred, and meanwhile poking at the beast threateningly.

It crouched there, snarling as only such a beast can, with its ears drawn back, and its green eyes seeming to emit sparks. Once it sprang full at the boy, and Mr. Snow uttered a cry of alarm; he made his way into the cabin, and now held Bluff's repeating gun in his hands, with the air of a hunter accustomed to such tools; but there seemed small chance to get a fair shot, the boy and the cat were so close to each other.

But Will proved as quick as a flash in his movements. He met this leap of his feline foe just as cleverly as a champion ball player might a swift one, straight over the plate. There was a loud concussion; and then they had a view of a squirming, hairy figure just pa.s.sing over the rail above Bluff, four legs working overtime in the effort to get a grip with those keen-pointed and poisonous claws.

Luther Snow thrust the gun into the hands of Frank, who had been in the act of trying to meet the figure of the cat at the instant the animal made his spring.

”It's your right to wind him up, Frank!” the man said; and seemed as cool as any one accustomed to scenes of peril all his life could be.

So Frank stepped to the rail, and seeing the baffled bobcat just about climbing the bank, he wound up his existence with one shot.

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