Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police Part 48

Mandy glanced at the gathering clouds.

"My goodness!" she cried; "it's comin' up fast. My! I hate to git my clothes wet." And off she set at a rapid pace, keeping abreast of her companion and making gay but elephantine attempts at sprightly conversation. Before Cameron's unsympathetic silence, however, all her sprightly attempts came to abject failure.

"What's the matter with you?" at length she asked. "Don't you want to see me home?"

"What?" said Cameron, abruptly, for his thoughts were far away. "Oh, nonsense! Of course! Why not? But we shall certainly be caught in the storm. Let us hurry. Here, let me take your arm."

His manner was brusque, almost rude.

"Oh, I guess I can get along," replied Mandy, catching off her hat and gathering up her skirt over her shoulders, "but we'll have to hustle, for I'd hate to have you get, wet." Her imperturbable good humour and her solicitude for him rebuked Cameron for his abruptness.

"I hope you will not get wet," he said.

"Oh, don't you worry about me. I ain't salt nor sugar, but I forgot all about your bein' sick." And with laboured breath poor Mandy hurried through the growing darkness with Cameron keeping close by her side.

"We won't be long now," she panted, as they turned from the side line towards their own gate.

As if in reply to her words there sounded from behind the fence and close to their side a long loud howl. Cameron gave a start.

"Great Caesar! What dog is that?" he exclaimed.

"Oh," said Mandy coolly, "guess it's MacKenzie's Carlo."

Immediately there rose from the fence on the other side an answering howl, followed by a full chorus of howls and yelps mingled with a bawling of calves and the ringing of cow bells, as if a dozen curs or more were in full cry after a herd of cattle. Cameron stood still in bewildered amazement.

"What the deuce are they at?" he cried, peering through the darkness.

"Huh!" grunted Mandy. "Them's curs all right, but they ain't much dog.

You wait till I see them fellows. They'll pay for this, you bet!"

"Do you mean to say these are not dogs?" cried Cameron, speaking in her ear, so great was the din.

"Dogs?" answered Mandy with indignant scorn. "Naw! Just or'nary curs!

Come along," she cried, catching his arm, "let's hurry."

"Here!" he cried, suddenly wrenching himself free, "I am going to see into this."

"No, no!" cried Mandy, gripping his arm once more with her strong hands.

"They will hurt you. Come on! We're just home. You can see them again.

No, I won't let you go."

In vain he struggled. Her strong hands held him fast. Suddenly there was a succession of short, sharp barks. Immediately dead silence fell. Not a sound could be heard, not a shape seen.

"Come out into the open, you cowardly curs!" shouted Cameron. "Come on!

One, two, three at a time, if you dare!"

But silence answered him.

"Come," said Mandy in a low voice, "let's hurry. It's goin' to rain.

Come on! Come along!"

Cameron stood irresolute. Then arose out of the black darkness a long quavering cat call. With a sudden dash Cameron sprang towards the fence.

Instantly there was a sound of running feet through the plowed field on the other side, then silence.

"Come back, you cowards!" raged Cameron. "Isn't there a man among you?"

For answer a clod came hurtling through the dark and struck with a thud upon the fence. Immediately, as if at a signal, there fell about Cameron a perfect hail of clods and even stones.

"Oh! Oh!" shrieked Mandy, rus.h.i.+ng towards him and throwing herself between him and the falling missiles. "Come away! Come away! They'll just kill you."

For answer Cameron put his arms about her and drew her behind him, s.h.i.+elding her as best he could with his body.

"Do you want to kill a woman?" he called aloud.

At once the hail of clods ceased and, raging as he was, Mandy dragged him homeward. At the door of the house he made to turn back.

"Not much, you don't," said Mandy, stoutly, "or I go with you."

"Oh, all right," said Cameron, "let them go. They are only a lot of curs, anyway."

For a few minutes they stood and talked in the kitchen, Cameron making light of the incident and making strenuous efforts to dissemble the rage that filled his soul. After a few minutes conversation Cameron announced his intention of going to bed, while Mandy pa.s.sed upstairs. He left the house and stole down the lane toward the road. The throbbing pain in his head was forgotten in the blind rage that possessed him. He had only one longing, to stand within striking distance of the cowardly curs, only one fear, that they should escape him. Swiftly, silently, he stole down the lane, every nerve, every muscle tense as a steel spring. His throat was hot, his eyes so dazzled that he could scarcely see; his breath came in quick gasps; his hands were trembling as with a nervous chill. The storm had partially blown away. It had become so light that he could dimly discern a number of figures at the entrance to the lane. Having his quarry in sight, Cameron crouched in the fence corner, holding hard by the rail till he should become master of himself. He could hear their explosions of suppressed laughter. It was some minutes before he had himself in hand, then with a swift silent run he stood among them.

So busy were they in recounting the various incidents in the recent "chivaree," that before they were aware Cameron was upon them. At his approach the circle broke and scattered, some flying to the fence. But Perkins with some others stood their ground.

"h.e.l.lo, Cameron!" drawled Perkins. "Did you see our cows? I thought I heard some of them down the line."

For answer Cameron launched himself at him like a bolt from a bow. There was a single sharp crack and Perkins was literally lifted clear off his feet and hurled back upon the road, where he lay still. Fiercely Cameron faced round to the next man, but he gave back quickly. A third sprang to throw himself upon Cameron, but once more Cameron's hand shot forward and his a.s.sailant was hurled back heavily into the arms of his friends.

Before Cameron could strike again a young giant, known as Sam Sailor, flung his arms about him, crying--

"Tut-tut, young fellow, this won't do, you know. Can't you take a bit of fun?"

For answer Cameron clinched him savagely, gripping him by the throat and planting two heavy blows upon his ribs.

"Here--boys," gasped the young fellow, "he's--chokin'--the--life--out--of me."

From all sides they threw themselves upon him and, striking, kicking, fighting furiously, Cameron went down under the struggling ma.s.s, his hand still gripping the throat it had seized.

"Say! He's a regular bull-dog," cried one. "Git hold of his legs and yank him off," which, with shouts and laughter, they proceeded to do and piled themselves upon him, chanting the refrain--"More beef! More beef!"

A few minutes more of frantic struggling and a wild agonised scream rose from beneath the ma.s.s of men.

"Git off, boys! Git off!" roared the young giant. "I'm afraid he's hurt."

Flinging them off on either side, he stood up and waited for their victim to rise. But Cameron lay on his face, moaning and writhing, on the ground.

"Say, boys," said Sam, kneeling down beside him, "I'm afraid he's hurted bad."

In his writhing Cameron lifted one leg. It toppled over to one side.

"Jumpin' Jeremiah!" said Sam in an awed voice. "His leg's broke! What in Sam Hill can we do?"