Things happened after that. Those on shore could not make out just what, though the moon was still bright, but they saw the occupants of the boat rush forward into the bow and a moment later saw the boat whirl around and set out down stream in pursuit of the buffalo, seemingly propelled by some magic hand.
It was exciting for the Banded Seven. The bull was wild with fury, and was plunging through the water at a great rate. Texas had wrapped the rope about the bow, and was playing his fish something after the fashion of the lineman in a whaleboat. As for the boat itself, it was mostly under water, splashing and plunging dangerously. But Texas didn’t care for that; he only yelled the louder and scared his prisoner into still greater exertions.
The others who were not quite so much infected with the excitement, looked to see their heavily-laden boat founder any moment. Mark even went so far as to inquire who could swim, a question which set poor Indian (who couldn’t) into howls; Indian was sure that his time had come; that the others (who could) would go off and leave him to perish beneath the gurgling black water. He took a preliminary hold on the Parson’s coat tails to make sure that he was not deserted.
The interesting trip did not last very long, however, for the simple reason that the buffalo got tired. His speed relaxed, and finally he stopped entirely and turned around to glare at the boat and his captors who were in it. Texas, without a word, removed the rope from where he had fastened it, and calmly proceeded to haul the animal in. He didn’t pay a bit of attention to the remonstrances of the others, whose aim it was to keep the creature away; Texas was managing this, he told them, and he was going to finish that job if he had to drown the buffalo and them, too.
Nearer and nearer came the savage beast, bellowing furiously, churning the water all about him, and shaking his head like an angry pickerel might do under similar circumstances. There was never a fisherman cooler than Texas, however, and there were few of them ever caught a stranger fish.
Texas was handicapped, however, by the fact that though he had plenty of strength to draw his prize to him, he had none to keep it away. And the whole business failed because of that. When the bull got within a few feet of the boat he lowered his head and made one more dash. This time he rushed toward the boat instead of away, and he met with more success.
The Seven scattered to the bow and stern when they saw their danger; an instant later one of the sharp horns of the enraged creature struck the side and crushed through the wood with a snap, keeling the boat over and sending its occupants flying through the air. And that was the last the shouting spectators on the shore could see, for the clouds swept over the moon again, and nothing was audible but the hoarse bellows of the buffalo and a few smothered cries from the water.
CHAPTER VIII.
SEVEN LUNATICS AND A REPORTER.
There was not a boat to be seen anywhere, so the crowd was helpless and terrified. The only thing that prevented a serious accident was first, the fact that the boat was very near to the shore; and second, that the furious beast had gotten his horns well wedged into the wood so that he could not chase the plebes if he had wanted to.