The Sportsman's Club in the Saddle

by Harry Castlemon

Perk in a Predicament.

Walter and his companions, comprehending the state of affairs at a glance, threw themselves from their horses and hurried to Perk’s assistance; but knowing that if he could not manage the hog they had no business with him, they shouted lustily for Rex. The faithful animal was always on hand when he was wanted, and before they had spoken his name the second time he came dashing through the bushes and seized the hog, just as Perk, completely exhausted, released his hold and sank to the ground. The hog fought desperately with his new enemies, but Rex was more than a match for him, and in a few minutes the boys had him securely bound. After that they tied up his mouth, and then turned their attention to Perk, who lay where he had fallen, panting loudly and utterly unable to move or speak. They carried him out of the thicket and laid him upon their overcoats, which they spread at the foot of a tree, and while Walter supported his head and Bab fanned him with his hat, Eugene ran to the bayou and presently returned with a cup of water.

“I’m clean done out,” panted Perk, when he had drained the cup. “Now, listen to me a moment and I’ll tell you something; that was the hardest fight I ever had. Just look at that,” he added, extending his hands, which were so badly cramped that he could not open them.

It was fully half an hour before Perk’s face resumed its natural color, and then he told his companions how he had got into the predicament in which they found him. As he had a somewhat roundabout way of getting at it, we will tell the story in our own words; and in order that you may fully understand it, we must give you a little insight into Rex’s character.

The greyhound had but two faults in the world: He was a constitutional thief, and he always kept as close to Walter as he could. He was master of all the hounds on the plantation, and if he caught any of them in the act of appropriating articles that did not belong to them, he did not hesitate to thrash them soundly; and yet, at the same time, he stole more than all the other dogs put together. He would sneak into the kitchen when he thought no one was observing his movements, and purloin any eatables that happened to be within his reach; and as for hens’ nests, the Club used to say that he would have nosed out one on top of the house, and conjured up some plan to rob it. Walter tried every way he could think of to make an honest dog of him, and to induce him to abandon this bad habit. He fed him until he refused to eat any more, thinking that he would certainly have no inclination to steal for at least an hour or two; but in less than ten minutes he would hear a rumpus in the kitchen, and see Rex retreating toward the barn followed by a shower of stove-wood. The habit could not be broken up—it was constitutional.

The other habit was almost as annoying on some occasions as the first. Rex kept close at his master’s side night and day. He would sleep in his room if he left his door open, and if he did not, Rex would jump up on the wood-shed, thence on to the kitchen, from which he could easily reach the upper porch, that ran entirely around the main building, and so go in at the window. It made no difference to him whether the window was open or not, for he had been known to jump through the sash. He was regular in his attendance at church, and whenever Walter went visiting, Rex always went too. He seemed to take it for granted that he was welcome wherever his master was, and if any one thought differently, and attempted to drive him out of the house, he would stand his ground, and show his teeth in the most threatening manner. As it was well known throughout the settlement that Rex always used those teeth on anything that he got angry at, he was generally allowed to have his own way.

It was this habit that had saved Eugene’s life, and placed Perk in his dangerous predicament. While Walter remained with him, Rex clung to the game manfully; but when he went away to assist Eugene, Rex went too, leaving Perk to manage the hog as best he could. The latter, having great confidence in his endurance and power of muscle, did not at first feel at all uneasy; but it was not long before he discovered that a hog, weighing three hundred and fifty pounds, was an ugly customer to handle. He held the animal by his hind legs, which he had lifted from the ground, and it required the outlay of every particle of strength he possessed to retain his hold. He could not manage the hog with one hand, and, of course, while both his hands were employed he could not tie him.

Bear in mind, now, that this was no tame hog, that would have run away if Perk had released him. He was wild, savage and angry; and if he could have reached his enemy the career of one of the Sportsman’s Club would have been brought to a sudden close. The hog would have attacked him at once, and Perk would have been easily overcome.

The young hunter became alarmed when he saw what a scrape he had got into, and began shouting for help; but the rest of the Club were too far away to hear him, and finding that he was wasting his breath to no purpose, he did the only thing he could do—he held fast to save his life. Walter was gone fully three-quarters of an hour, and during all this time Perk clung to that savage beast, afraid to let go, and almost unable to hold on. His companions arrived just in time to save him; a moment more would have sealed his fate. Perk had a high opinion of a hog’s strength and endurance now, and wound up his story by declaring that he would a heap sooner face a bear.