The Jungle Fugitives: A Tale of Life and Adventure in India<br />Including also Many Stories of Amer, Ellis [ebook reader online txt] 📗

For a moment after firing, Rube Johnson believed he was killed. The flint shot a spark among the powder grains, there was a flash, a hiss, and then, as the fire worked its way to the charge inside, the explosion came and he toppled over, half stunned, with the gun flying a dozen feet away.

But his fear for his relative brought him to his feet, and he hurried to the old gentleman, who was climbing uncertainly to an upright posture.

"What's de matter?" asked Rube; "you ain't bit."

"I know dat; I warn't yellin' on dat 'count."

"What fur den?"

"You black rascal, you shot me instid ob de yaller dog."

"Lemme see," said Rube, turning his uncle round and scanning him from head to foot.

"I done pepper you purty well, uncle, but dare ain't any ob de slugs dat hit yer—only de fine bird shot."

"How many ob dem?" was the rueful question.

"I don't tink dar's more dan five or six hundred; Aunt Jemimer can gib her spar time de next six weeks pickin' 'em out; she'll enj'y it, but dat shot ob mine scared off de mad dog, and yer oughter be tankful to me, uncle, all yer life."

It was recess at the Woodvale school, and the forty-odd boys and girls were having a merry time on the playgrounds, which included the broad highway. Within the building, Mr. Hobbs, the young teacher was busy "setting copies," his only companion just then being Tod Clymer, a pale-faced cripple, who, unable to take part in the sports of the other boys, preferred to stay within doors and con his lessons, in which he was always far in advance of the rest.

A strange confusion outside caused him to raise his head and look through the window near him.

"Oh, Mr. Hobbs," he said, "there's a mad dog!"

The teacher started up, and saw the yellow cur running about the grounds, snapping at the children, while a couple of boys had already raised the fearful cry, and there was a scattering in all directions. Although without any weapon, the instructor was on the point of hurrying out to the help of the children, when he observed the canine coming toward the outer door. He tried to close it in his face, but the brute was too quick and was inside before he could be stopped. He made for the second door, leading into the session-room, but, in this instance, the teacher slammed it shut just in time.

Instead of going out the dog slunk into the entry and crawled under a bench, so nearly behind the outer door that he was invisible to any one beyond.

"Mr. Hobbs," said Tod Clymer a moment later, "will you please help me out of the window?"

"I think you are safer here," replied the teacher, "for he cannot reach you, but you will not be able to get away from him outside."

"I want to leave, please, very much."

It was a strange request, and the teacher waited some minutes before complying, but the heart of the lame boy was so set upon it, that he finally assisted him to the window furthest from where the dog was crouching, gently lifted him down to the ground, and then passed his crutches to him.

"Now, Tod," said he kindly, "don't tarry a moment, for there's no saying how soon he will be outside again. The other children are away, but you cannot run like them."

"Thank you," replied Tod, who never forgot to be courteous, as he carefully adjusted the collars of his crutches under his shoulders.

Mr. Hobbs motioned from the window for several of the boys to keep off. With a natural curiosity, they were stealing closer to the building, in the hope of finding out what the rabid dog was doing.

The teacher, seeing his gestures were understood, turned back, when to his surprise, he noticed the top of Tom Clymer's straw hat, as it slowly rose and sank, moving along the front of the building toward the front door.

Instead of hurrying off, as he should have done, the lad was making his way toward the very spot where the dreadful animal was crouching.

"Why, Tod, what are you doing?" called Mr. Hobbs through the open window; "you will surely be bitten."

Instead of replying or heeding the words, the lad turned his pale face toward his friend and shook his head, as a warning for him to make no noise. Then he resumed his advance to the open outer door, doing so with great care and stealth, as if afraid of being heard by the brute.

The entrance to the old Woodvale school building was reached by two steps, consisting of the same number of broad high stones worn smooth by the feet of the hundreds of children that had trod them times without number. To make his way into the entry where the pupils hung their hats and bonnets on the double rows of pegs, Tod had to move slowly and carefully use his crutches. Being tipped with iron he could not set them down on the smooth stones without causing noise.

But he acted without hesitation. The teacher read his purpose and knew it was useless to try to check him. He leaned his head out of the window and held his breath, while he watched him.

Tod never faltered, though none could have understood the danger he ran better than he. He had a brother and sister among the children that had scattered in such haste before the snapping cur, and who were gathering again around the building despite the warning gesture of the teacher.

He could not know whether they had all escaped or not, but he was sure that if the dog came forth again, more than one of them must suffer, and in those days there was no Pasteur with his wonderful cure to whom the afflicted ones could be taken.

Tod did not tremble, though it seemed to him the brute must hear the tumultuous throbbing of his heart and rush forth. Puny as was his strength, he meant that, if he did so, he would steady himself on his one support, and grasping the other with both hands, strike the dog with might and main. It is doubtful whether the blow would have stunned the dog, for the little fellow's confidence in himself was greater than his bodily powers warranted.

At the moment he rested the end of the crutch on the smooth surface of the second stone, it slipped, and only by a strong wrench did he save himself from falling. The noise was heard by the animal, who was not six feet distant, and he emitted another moan, which can never be forgotten by those that have heard it.

Certain that the cur was about to rush forth, Tod steadied himself on the single crutch, and, reversing the other, held it firmly in his weak hands. He knew the shuffling sound was caused by the animal moving: uneasily about the entry, and it was strange he did not burst through