The Rover Boys Series. Stratemeyer EdwardЧитать онлайн книгу.
hound. As Frank Harrington had a trumpet he was made whipper-in. Captain Putnam supplied the boys with a package of old copying books, and these were cut up into small bits and stuffed into two pillow cases loaned by Mrs. Green.
The start was made on a clear but frosty afternoon. The hares stood on the parade ground, with the hounds, to the number of thirty, behind them. George Strong had consented to start them off. The hares were to be given three minutes' start of the little scholars and five minutes' start of the big boys.
"All ready?" asked the second assistant of Putnam Hall, as he took out his watch.
"All ready," answered Sam and Fred.
"Then go!" And away went the two boys, straight for the cornfield, dropping bits of paper as they sped along. They leaped the fence in the rear, crossed the brook, and then started along a path leading through the woods beyond.
"We mustn't dream of letting them catch us," remarked Sam, as he ran on, with Fred directly behind him. "I wonder where this path leads to?"
"The top of the mountain, so Mr. Strong told me. He said there was another path coming down to the westward."
On and on they went along the path until they came to a narrow mountain road. Here they met a farmer carting a number of logs in his wagon, and stopped him to ask a few questions.
"Yes, that road will take you right up to the top," he said. "But you want to be careful and not make a wrong turn, or you may get lost."
"I'm not afraid of being lost," said Fred with a light laugh; and on they sped again, as rapidly as ever, for Fred was as good a runner as Sam, and the pair worked very well together.
At the top of the first rise of ground they came to a spot that was somewhat bare, and here they halted to look back.
"There are the small fellows!" cried Sam, pointing with his finger. "And the big ones are not far behind."
"They are speeding along in good shape," was Fred's comment. "Come on, before they spot us!" And they hurried up the next hill. Here they encountered a number of rocks, and were brought to a halt several times to determine which was the best path to pursue.
"By Jinks! the farmer was right — we are getting lost!" said Sam presently. "Where is the path?"
"I think it is to the right."
"And I think it is to the left."
At this both lads looked at each other, then burst out laughing.
"It can't be in both directions, Fred."
"That's true, and I am sure I am right."
"All right, we'll try it," and they did, but it was a good ten minutes before the path came into view again, and meanwhile the first of the hounds drew dangerously close.
But the game was by no means over, as we shall see.
CHAPTER XIII
WHAT THE GAME OF HARE AND HOUNDS LED TO
"What a glorious view!"
It was Sam who uttered the words. The top of the mountain had been reached at last, and the boys were feasting their eyes on the grand panorama spread on all sides.
"How beautiful the lake looks!" said Fred. "And how far one can see!"
"It's a pity we didn't bring a pair of glasses with us, Fred. But, say, I'm hungry."
"So am I. Let us eat that lunch at once and then start on the return."
Each had brought a sandwich along, and these were soon consumed and washed down with a drink of cold water from a spring not far away. Then on they went, over the top of the mountain, and along a path which they thought would bring them around its western base. It was now four o'clock, leaving them two hours in which to get back to Putnam Hall.
About a third of the distance down the mountain side had been covered, and Sam was slightly in advance, when suddenly he uttered a cry of alarm.
"Lookout, Fred!"
"What is it?"
"A snake!"
"Where?"
"Over yonder! And he is coming for us!"
Sam was right; it was a snake — an angry-looking reptile all of six feet long, and as thick as Sam's wrist. It hissed savagely as it advanced, first upon Sam and then upon Fred.
If there was one thing which could fill Fred Garrison full of terror it was a snake, and the yell he gave would have outmatched that of an Indian on the warpath.
"Save me!" he screamed. "Don't let him touch me!"
"Jump back!" cried Sam, and leaped himself. Then, seeing a tall rock handy, he sprang upon it, and here Fred joined him.
Now, it happened that the snake had its home under the rock, and the movement of the lads made it more angry than ever. With a fierce hiss it came for the rock and disappeared underneath, out of the range of their vision.
"It's gone under the rock!" panted Fred. He was so agitated he could scarcely speak.
"I know it," returned Sam. "I wonder if it means to crawl up here?"
"Oh, don't say that, Sam. I — I — can't we hit it with something?"
"I haven't a thing but the bag of paper."
"Neither have I. Oh, what shall we do?"
"Perhaps we had better stay here until the others come up."
"Do you think the snake will keep quiet that long?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
Very much disturbed, the two boys peered over the edge of the rock. They were not versed in the different species of reptiles, and knew not but that the one at hand might be poisonous.
"I see his tail!" cried Fred with a shiver. "He is moving around as if getting ready to come out."
"I wonder if I can grab him by the tail?" mused Sam.
"Grab him? Oh, Sam!"
"I've heard you can catch them by the tail, snap them, and make their heads fly right off."
"Gracious, I wouldn't attempt it!"
While Fred was speaking the tail of the snake came up on the side of the rock.
Setting his teeth, Sam bent down and made a clutch for the slippery thing, and caught it tight.
With a hiss the snake raised its head, its diamond-like eyes shining like twin stars.
"You'll be poisoned!" shrieked Fred, when, whack! Sam gave the body of the reptile a swing and brought the head down with great force on the edge of the rock.
One blow was enough, for the head was mashed flat. Then Sam threw the body into the bushes, there to quiver and twist for several hours to come, although life was extinct.
Fred was as white as a sheet as he leaped to the ground. "I couldn't have done that for a million dollars!" he declared. "What a splendid nerve you have, Sam!"
"My father told me how to catch a snake in that way," exclaimed Sam. "But hurry, or the hounds will overtake us. I can hear them coming."
"Your father must have been equally brave, then," answered Fred, as they started off on a run. "By the way, have you heard anything of him yet?"
"Not a word, Fred."
"Don't it make you feel bad at times?"
"Does it, Fred! Why, some nights I can't go to sleep for thinking of where he may be — dead in the heart of Africa, or perhaps a captive of some savage tribe."
"Have they ever hunted for him?"
"Several