CHAPTER II.
ON THE BRINK.
Meanwhile young Edwards found himself a stirring actor in a stirringseries of events.
He set out with all the ardor of a young hunter to bring down the bear,which was the most enormous one he had ever seen in the Kentucky wilds.His fondness for his jovial companion led him to give him what seemed tobe the best chance to secure him; and it may be said that, had thesituations of the youths been reversed, bruin would have quickly fallena victim to the prowess of the young Kentuckian. But fate made a turn ofthe wheel of fortune of which neither dreamed.
Wharton Edwards possessed wonderful fleetness of foot, and counted on notrouble in running down the lumbering beast; but when he struck thepoint where he ought to have been visible, he was not in sight.
The acute hearing of the youth, however, told him where the bear wasplunging through the undergrowth. It was in the direction of the stream,and fearful that he would escape him altogether, Wharton took up thepursuit with all the energy at his command.
The momentary pause had given the bear an advantage which he used with asagacity worthy of a more intelligent creature than he. Without turningto the right or left, he swung ponderously along until he reached theedge of the torrent, into which he tumbled like a rock falling down theside of a mountain.
"I've got you now!" was the exultant exclamation of the youth, whoreached the point where bruin had disappeared within ten secondsafterwards.
An exasperating state of affairs confronted him. The high, rocky bluffon each side of the swift current shut out all view of the water withintwo or three yards of the side on which the spectator happened to stand.Whether instinct led the bear to adopt the course he did is uncertain,but it is hardly credible, since his species are well known to bestupid; but, be that as it may, this specimen, instead of making for theother bank, kept so near to the one from which he had leaped that youngEdwards could not see him. The only way in which he could gain a view ofhim was by lying down on his face and peering over.
He had no time to do this, besides which, under the circumstances, itwas almost impossible to gain a shot at the swimming bear.
The presumption was that he would make for the other bank in quest ofsome opening by which to leave the water, but Wharton, in his eagerness,was unwilling to count upon that.
"If I were upon the other side," was his thought, as he hurriednervously along the bluff, seeking to keep pace with the rushingcurrent, "I would have him just where I wanted him. But I shall losehim, for there is no way to get across--yes there is, and I'll do it,sure as a gun."
A hundred yards below, and quite near the falls, the bluffs approachedeach other so closely that he was sure he could leap from one to theother. Thus in a bound he could place himself in the best position toshoot the game against which he began to feel a resentment because ofthe manner in which it baffled him.
Had young Edwards been more familiar with his immediate surroundings, orless enthusiastic in his pursuit of the prize, he would have hesitated,and, adopting the good old adage, looked before he leaped; but he wascarried away by the excitement of the moment, and did that which no onewould have been quicker than he, under other circumstances, to condemn.
Running rapidly along the bluff, and parallel with the course of thestream, he reached the narrow portion upon which he had fixed his eye,gave it a glance, and decided that by no great effort he could leap tothe corresponding bluff on the opposite side.
And beyond a doubt he would have succeeded had he used only ordinaryprecaution, but he was in dread lest the bear should escape him. Thefalls were but a short way below, and though the raging waters werelikely to finish him, that of itself would spoil everything. No hunterlikes to see another take his game out of his hands, and he viewed sucha loss through the falls in the same light. His blood was up, and hemeant to secure the animal if it was "in the wood."
Stepping hastily back for a couple of paces, he gathered himself, ranthe distance, and, concentrating his strength in the effort, leapedtoward the opposite bluff.
The instant he left the ledge he saw to his horror that he was going tofall. A leaper or runner always feels what is coming before the crisisis upon him, and Wharton Edwards knew he had made an awfulmiscalculation.
With the desperation of despair he flung his rifle from him at theinstant of leaping, and when it was too late to withdraw. It landed onthe rocks, and the impact of the hammer caused its discharge, the ball,by a singular concurrence of circumstances, passing within a few inchesof the owner's face.
It was only for a passing breath that the youth was in the air, but itseemed to him he was held suspended for several minutes over the ragingwaters. He struck only a few inches short, but those few inches werefatal. His chest and lower part of the body collided violently with thesolid wall, and his hands were thrown over the surface on which he hadhoped and expected to place his feet.
He clutched fiercely to save himself, and had there been anything tograsp must have succeeded; but there was nothing, and, rebounding fullya foot, he went down into the torrent twenty feet below. As if fatemeant to dally with and mock him, he splashed within a few feet of thebear, who, with a snuff of fear, turned away and began a wild effort toswim against the current. The brute had become aware of the roaringfalls close at hand, and saw the trap in which he was caught, and fromwhich it was impossible to extricate himself until, as may be said, hewas almost on the brink of the falls.
A short distance from the plunge was a gap in the bluff, where theground was only a few inches above the surface of the water. If thebrute should hold himself close to the bank on that side until thisfavoring point was reached, he could save himself.
And he did, though little credit belonged to him for the feat. Like thestupid creature that he was, he continued furiously striving to swimagainst the current, and without stemming it in the least; but the sameblind instinct kept him clawing at the rocks on the side from which hehad leaped, and thus held him in the only position which gave theslightest hope.
All at once the beam-like claws struck the rocky bottom. The waterquickly shallowed. By a prodigious effort he checked his swift downwardprogress--then he secured a foothold--his massive, shaggy body heaved upfrom the water--he plunged heavily to one side, and, with another mightyputting forth of his strength, walked out upon the solid earth and wassafe.
Beyond peradventure, Wharton Edwards would have done equally well hadthe opportunity been given him to study for a few seconds his periloussurroundings. He would have been quick to see the opening through whichhis intended prize escaped, and the gorge was so narrow that he couldreadily have swam across to it in the few moments at his command; butthe youth was in a hapless situation.
He landed against the bluff with such violence that the breath wasdriven from his body, and when he struck the water he was senseless. Therush of the chilling current, as he shot below the surface, partlyrevived him, and he made an instinctive effort at self-preservation. Theblow, however, had been severe, and his brain was in a whirl the nextmoment, the torrent carrying him with great swiftness toward the falls.
Larry Murphy was closer to the stream than he had supposed, whilereloading his rifle. The report of his friend's rifle gave him thenecessary guidance, and he dashed over the intervening distance at thetop of his speed.
A minute later he peered over the bluff, and, without seeing the bear,which was almost beneath him, saw the head and shoulders of his friend,who had come to the surface a few seconds before.
"Ye blundering spalpeen, that's no place to go in swimming!" called thefrightened youth, with no suspicion of the mishap that had occurred.
Undecided what to do, and yet unable to stand idle, Larry ran along theedge of the bluff, and a minute later saw to his amazement the bearemerge and shake his dripping coat. It would have been easy to shoot himdown, for there could not have been a fairer target; but the youth hadno thought of bagging game in those terrible moments, and he bestowedhardly a glance at the brute.
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br /> A second look at young Edwards told him that something was wrong.
"Swim toward me!" shouted Larry, loud enough for his clear voice to beheard above the thunder of the waters.
He had bounded headlong down the sloping bluff, and then off into theopen low space, which offered the only hope. It was a high leap, but inhis excitement he did not notice it.
"Swim hard, ould felly, or it'll be too late--hivin save me, but he'sdrowning!"
Wharton's head was dipping below the surface, and his arms had ceasedthe feeble struggles they made a short time before. The youth was reallydrowning.
He was now so nearly opposite the opening in the bluff, and so near theplunge of waters, that had he been in the full possession of his sensesand strength he could have swam the space, brief as it was, only by themost desperate efforts. In his senseless condition he could notaccomplish it, of course, had he been in water as still as a mill pond.
Larry Murphy saw and comprehended all this in the twinkling of an eye.He knew that if he stood where he was it would be to see his lovedfriend die, and if he plunged in after him both would go over the falls,with possibly one chance in a thousand of their escape.
And did he, while quickly weighing the chances, hesitate?