Chris has a Fit.
Every one made a dash to avert the disaster on hearing their leader’s words, but the stampede had already begun. Disaster of a serious kind was about to fall upon the little expedition, and but for the energy of Griggs and Chris matters would have been worse than they were.
For panic had seized upon two or three of the mules, which took alarm from the startled mustangs, and directly after they would all have been in headlong flight, kicking wildly as they tore away, when the same thought came to two of the party who had the energy and nerve to put it into action.
The idea was that even then, frightened as they were, the mules would obey their old habit, so driving their heels into their snorting mustangs’ sides, Griggs and Chris raced after Skeeter as he was tearing along at full speed, shaking his load loose, and making his bell jangle loudly as he squealed and galloped.
Almost at the same moment the two pursuers grasped the mule’s rein on either side and drew their own, with the result that with the bell ringing still loudly, three animals were going along swiftly close abreast, but moment by moment becoming more and more under control, Skeeter the calmest of all, for he acted as if he felt comparatively safe with a stout cob pressing against each side.
The rest of the mules were still galloping, but Skeeter led, and his behaviour began to influence his companions to such an extent that as they grew farther from the object of their alarm the kicking and plunging gradually subsided. The effort of going full speed under loads generally carried at a walk began to tell, and at the end of half-a-mile all were under control and following their bell-bearing leader, till Skeeter was checked, no serpents were in view, and the controllers of the wild race sat panting upon their mustangs, ready to round up any mule which made a fresh start, and every living thing panting from their late exertions, the bipeds eagerly calculating the damage that had been done.
“Sit fast,” cried the doctor, “and be ready in case they make a fresh dash. Griggs! Chris! splendid; but keep fast hold of that bell-mule’s rein.”
“Got him tight, father,” cried Chris.
“Same here, doctor,” panted Griggs. “He’ll have to leave his head behind this time if he tries to make a start. Say, Squire Ned,” he continued to the boy, who now joined him, “you were grumbling about having no adventures. What do you say to this for a regular red-hot one, quite noo out of nature’s oven?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” cried Ned excitedly. “Do you think the rattlesnakes will pursue us?”