The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns

by Ruel Perley Smith

Every one did keep as far out of the dog’s way as possible, excepting Tim Reardon, who, after a whispered consultation with Jack Harvey, after which the latter disappeared behind the freight-house, seated himself just out of the dog’s reach, and caused that animal to froth at the mouth and nearly strangle itself in trying to get loose, by pointing a finger at the dog and making a loud hissing noise between his teeth.

Not content with this form of annoyance, Tim Reardon varied it now and again by darting a hand out at the dog, as though in an attempt to seize him by the throat. To which the maddened animal, with true bulldog ferocity, responded with savage rushes as far as the rope would permit, his wide-open jaws fairly dripping with rage and disappointment.

If there was any design on the boy’s part to distract the dog’s attention from what Jack Harvey was doing at the corner of the freight-house, to which the dog was tied, it succeeded admirably. Moreover, it is certain that, when Harvey reappeared, Tim stopped teasing the brute, and he and Harvey walked around to the rear of the freight-house.

The freight-house was situated almost at the end of the wharf on its seaward side, so near to the edge of the wharf that there was only room for a single person to walk along on the outside, and that at the risk of losing one’s balance and falling off the wharf. The ring to which the dog was tied was on the side near the end, and was not visible to those standing on the front of the wharf. Any one going around to the further side of the freight-house at this moment might have seen Harvey and Tim standing there,—Harvey nearest the ring and holding a knife in his hand.

The steamer in landing had made a complete circuit in the harbour, and had come alongside the wharf with her head pointing out into the bay, so that now, as Captain Chase called out “All aboard,” and gave orders to cast off bow and stern lines, the boat was ready to steam directly away from the wharf. The gangplanks were drawn in. There was a tinkling of bells; a great commotion as the steamer’s wheels began to revolve rapidly; a general waving of handkerchiefs from the wharf to those who were bound farther down the bay; the steamer began to glide away from the wharf, when suddenly somebody shrieked:

“The dog! The dog! Run! Run! He’s broken loose.”

And before the crowd had time to scatter, the dog, infuriated with the tormenting it had received at the hands of Tim Reardon, dashed toward it. Men, women, and children fled in terror. Squire Brackett, who came running out of the freight-house, did not dare face the dog, but dodged back into the freight-house and slammed the door shut, in a cold sweat of fear.

The boys, most of them, rushed for points of safety, clambering up the ends of the spiling that jutted above the floor of the wharf, and young Joe and Tom Harris, being at the very edge of the wharf, and having no other means of escape, and nothing to defend themselves with, dropped off the wharf into the water and swam to shore. Several of the other boys and some men scrambled about for clubs to ward off the brute’s fierce rush.

Among these latter was Henry Burns. Realizing on the instant that to attempt to flee was worse than hopeless, he had glanced about for something to defend himself with, and had seized upon a broken piece of oar. Grasping it with both hands, he stood, calmly awaiting the attack. The dog, seeing him right in his path, rushed at him, and when within a yard of the boy suddenly gave a spring, as though to seize him by the throat.

Henry Burns, summoning all his strength, aimed a terrific sweeping blow at the dog, but it missed its mark. Meeting no obstruction, the force of the blow swung the boy completely around, so that he lost his balance and fell sprawling upon the wharf, while the piece of oar flew from his hands and landed far out in the water.