Part 28 (2/2)
Then the mules needed no whipping, for the first of the buffalo were in sight. Up a knoll they surged, and down the other side. Tightly packed, those in front could not have turned if they would, for those in back forced them on. A flowing, brown sea of beasts, the noise of their hoofs drowned all other noises and the very earth seemed to shake.
The mules were racing for their lives now, and they knew it. Curbing them not at all and letting them choose their own course, Joe risked one sidewise glance at the stampeding herd. There were a vast number of buffalo, Joe could not even guess how many, and they were going to cross the Oregon Trail. Above the thunder of their hoofs Joe heard Tad's scream,
”Pa!”
”What?” Joe roared back.
”Can I use the rifle?”
”Yes!”
Some great and terrible thing, some mighty force, b.u.mped the wagon and sent it slewing sidewise. Joe slanted the reins forward, as though by so doing he might give the mules more speed, and willed wings onto their hoofs. He heard the rifle's spiteful crack. Then the mules slowed of their own accord and he knew they were safe, but by a very narrow margin. The wagon had actually been b.u.mped by one of the running buffalo. Joe drew the panting mules to a halt and looked back to see the great herd still running.
”Got one!” Tad gloated. ”Got one and there it lays!”
”You were a long time shooting,” Joe complained.
”Shucks, didn't want to shoot one out of the middle. The rest would have pounded it to bits. I wanted to get one of the rear-most so we'd have somethin' to eat.”
Joe turned to look at his son with surprise and admiration. ”That was right good thinking!”
Pale and shaken, Emma took her place on the seat beside Joe. Barbara wiped her face with a handkerchief. Too young to appreciate the danger they had avoided, the younger children stood with open mouths, staring at the fleeing buffalo. Joe squeezed Emma's hand.
”What on earth could have brought that on?” she gasped.
”I don't know. Maybe hunters started the herd and it just didn't stop.”
”How terribly close!”
”Too close!”
Tad asked eagerly, ”Can I take the rifle and go see my buffalo, Pa?”
”Go ahead.”
He watched closely while Tad climbed out of the wagon and Mike leaped after him. Before leaving the wagon's shelter, Tad reloaded the rifle and Joe nodded approvingly. Tad was no fool. The buffalo was down, but n.o.body had proved that it could not get up and Tad wanted to be ready if it did. Joe continued to watch, not joining Tad because this rightly belonged to him. It was a prize worthy of note, and because he himself had brought it down, it would help shape Tad's manhood if n.o.body else interfered. Joe gave the youngster time to reach and admire his game, then swung the mules to follow.
Barbara shuddered, but braced herself. ”Can I help you with it, Daddy?”
Joe said gently, ”I don't think so, Bobby.”
”Then I'll take the youngsters for a walk. It will keep them out of mischief.”
”Wanna see the buffalo!” Alfred protested.
Emma said, ”Ally, you go with Barbara.”
Joe stopped to let Barbara take the younger children and drove on. The buffalo was a fat cow with a big hump, and Joe thought curiously that he had never really known before how large buffalo can be. He looked at Emma's happy eyes, and knew what she was thinking. The Tower family still had problems, but short rations was no longer one of them.
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