At last Butler had chopped through. He grabbed the tree, but Stacy, jerking on his foot, pulled the tree right over on him, incidentally throwing Tad down. Then Chunky let out a fresh series of howls as the sharp sprouts smote him on the face and body. The foot, however, had come free with the falling of the tree, but the boy still lay there groaning, making no effort to help himself.
“Get up! You’re all right,” commanded Ned, jerking Stacy out by the collar. “See what you’ve accomplished now. You have done for our last mule. Had you not been along I don’t believe the other one would have fallen off the trail.”
“That’s right. Save the donk, but never mind a Stacy Brown. He’s a good joke, that’s all,” complained Stacy.
Tad had run to the pack mule which had got up, and was standing with nose close to the ground.
“He isn’t hurt,” cried Tad. “He is all right, Professor,” he called. “Both mules are all right. Hooray!”
“Eh?” growled Stacy, flushing hotly.
159Anvik, who had been making his way down by a more roundabout way, now made his appearance. He grunted upon discovering the disheveled Chunky, and shrugged his shoulders as he observed the display of tin cans strewn about.
“Much heap big fool!” ejaculated the Indian.
“Are you addressing your remarks to me or to the mule?” demanded Stacy calmly.
“Huh!” That was the only reply Stacy got, and Anvik began gathering up the stuff that had been lost from the battered pack. This was no small task, owing to the way the provisions had been scattered. Butler, in the meantime, had gone over the pack mule carefully to see if there were any serious injuries.