Author: Oliver Optic
Category: Adventure
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CHAPTER V.
A BATTLE AT LONG RANGE.
I was always very fond of a dog and a horse, and had a taste foreverything appertaining to these animals. Darky, as the black horse wascalled, and my dog Bully, were prime favorites with me. If I bore adivided love, it was so equally divided that I could not tell which Iliked the best. I was fond of working over the horse, the wagon, theharnesses, and most especially I had a decided _penchant_ for a gracefulwhip; but I wish to protest, in the same breath, that I never used itupon Darky. Though I was a firm believer in corporal punishment forvicious boys and vicious horses, I did not think he ever needed it. Ihad a suspicion that Ham Fishley had never had half enough of it, owingto the fact that he was a spoiled child. It seemed to me then that agood opportunity had come to supply the deficiency, even if it wereadministered strictly in self-defence.
When I had turned Darky, and admonished him to stand still, I saw thatHam had picked up a club, which appeared to be a broken cart-stake. Itwas necessary that I should provide for this new emergency. I glanced atthe wagon, to see if there was anything about it that would answer mypurpose. My eye fell upon the whip, which rested in the socket at theend of the seat. It was a very elegant whip in my estimation, with alash long enough to drive a four-horse team. The brilliant thoughtoccurred to me that this whip was better than a cart-stake for mypresent purpose, and I took it from its place.
I wish to say, most emphatically, in this connection, that I am not afighting character; but, in the present instance, I was obliged to fightor submit to the most degrading abuse. Ham was in the act of assertinghis right, not to ask me, but to order me, in the most offensive manner,to black his boots, or to perform other menial offices for him. I trustthat I have already proved my willingness to do my duty, and to obligeeven those whom I regarded as my enemies. Ham had made a cowardlyassault upon me, and with the club in his hand he proposed to reduce meto what he considered a proper state of subjection.
I purposed that he should not reduce me at all. I walked towards theplace where he stood, with the whip in my hand. As I approached him hemoved towards me with his weapon thrown back in readiness to hit me. Ihalted first, and then retreated a few paces, to afford me time todisengage the lash from the handle of the whip,--I used to considermyself very skilful with the whip,--though this may be vanity,--and Icould take a piece out of a maple leaf at twelve feet, three times outof four, all day long. This was one of my accomplishments as a boy, andI enjoyed the practice.
Retreating before the advance of Ham, I brought the whip smartly aroundthe calves of his legs, with a regular coachman's flourish. This did notoperate to cool my antagonist's temper; indeed, I am forced to confessthat this was not exactly the way to subdue his ire. I am sorry to saythat Ham used some naughty words, which politeness will not permit meto repeat. Then he rushed forward with redoubled energy, and I gave himanother crack with the whip, which hit him in the tenderest part of hispedestals.
I knew by his wrinkled brow that the part smarted; but, as long as itdid not cure him of the infatuation of "licking" me, I felt that he wasresponsible for all consequences. He wanted to throw himself upon mewith that club, and I am satisfied that a single blow of the formidableweapon would have smashed my head. He followed up his treatment, and Ifollowed up mine, keeping just out of the reach of his stick, andlathering his legs with the hard silk snapper of my whip.
He foamed, fretted, and struggled to gain the advantage of me; but hewas mad, and I was cool, and I kept my respectful distance from him,punishing him as rapidly as I could swing the long lash. Ham soon becamefearfully disgusted. At the rate he was subduing me, he must have feltthat it would be a long job. His patience--not very carefullynursed--gave out at last; and, when he found that it would beimpossible for him to inflict a single blow upon me, he raised the club,and let it fly at my head. If it had hit me there, I think the readerwould have been saved the trouble of reading my adventures "Down theRiver." As it was, it struck me on the left shoulder, and I did not getover the effects of the blow for a fortnight. But I was too proud toshow any signs of pain, or even to let him know that I had been hit.
I picked up the club, and held it in my left hand, to prevent him frommaking any further use of it, leaving my right to manipulate the whip. Ifelt that I had disarmed and overpowered him; but I was not yet quitecontent with his frame of mind, and I continued my favorite exercise forsome time longer. I did not actually punish him any more; I only crackedthe whip in unpleasant proximity to his tender extremities. He hoppedand leaped like a Winnebago chief in the war-dance.
"Quit, Buck Bradford!" cried he, in tones of anguish.
"You have got enough of it--have you, Ham Fishley?" I replied,suspending the exercise.
"We'll settle this another time," howled he.
"No, we won't; we'll settle it now. You began it, and I want it finishednow," I added, cracking the whip once more in the neighborhood of hispedal extremities.
"Quit--will you!"
"I will quit when you say you have had enough of it."
"You won't hear the last of this very soon, I can tell you!"
"What are you going to do about it, Ham?"
"I'll pay you off for it yet!"
"Will you!" I continued, startling his sensibilities again with thenoise of the snapper.
"Yes, I will!" snarled he, passionately.
If the calf of his left leg had been a maple leaf at that moment, Ishould have taken a piece out of it as big as a dime.
"Mind out, Buck Bradford!"
"Have you had enough?" I demanded.
"Yes, I have!"
"O, well, if you are satisfied, I am, though you are not verygood-natured about it. Next time you want to hit me over the head withthe mail-bag, just remember that when I am awake I keep my eyes open," Ireplied, coiling up the lash of my whip. "When I told you I had stoodthis thing long enough, I got myself ready for anything that might come.I'm ready for anything more, and I shall be ready the next time you wantto try it on."
"You had better go along with the mail," snapped he, in a tone so likehis mother's that I could not have told who spoke if I had not seen Hambefore me.
"I made this stop to accommodate you, not myself. After what hashappened, I want to tell you once more, that I am ready to do my worklike a man, and to treat you and everybody else like gentlemen, if youuse me decently. If you know how to behave like a gentleman, I'd like tohave you try it on for a few days, just to see how it would seem. If youwill only do that, I promise you shall have no reason to complain of me.That's all I've got to say."
"You've said enough, and you had better go along with the mail," growledhe.
I turned Darky again, very much to that knowing animal'sdissatisfaction apparently, for my singular proceedings had doubtlessimpressed him with the idea that he was to escape his regular trip toRiverport.
"Aren't you going along to Crofton's?" I called to Ham, as I got intothe wagon.
"A pretty fix I'm in to go to a party," replied he, as he glanced indisgust at his soiled garments.
"Well, you ought to have thought of that before you began the sport," Iadded, consolingly.
Ham made no reply, but fell vigorously to brushing his clothes with hishands.
"Better come along with me, Ham," I continued, kindly; for I felt that Icould afford to be magnanimous; and I think one ought to be so, whetherhe can afford it or not.
"I'm not going to Crofton's in this fix," said he.
"I can help you out, if you like, Ham. I don't bear any ill will towardsyou, and just as lief do you a good turn as not," I added, taking fromthe box of the wagon-seat a small hand broom, which I kept there to dustoff the cushion, and brush down the mail-bag after a dusty trip.
I jumped down from the wagon again, and moved towards him. He was shy ofme after what had happened, and retreated at my approach.
"Let me brush your clothes, Ham. I won't hurt you."
"You have brushed me about enough already," said he, shaking his hea
d.
"What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid."
"Let me brush you, then. I wouldn't hurt you now any more than I wouldmy own sister."
He stood still, and I brushed and rubbed his garments till he looked asbright and fresh as if he came out of the bureau drawer.
"There, you are all right now," I added, when I had finished the job."Jump into the wagon, and I will take you along to Crofton's."
"You are up to some trick, Buck," said he, suspiciously.
"No, I'm not. I'm not afraid of you. I don't hit a fellow over the headwith a mail-bag," I replied, seating myself in the wagon again.
Half a dozen "fellows and girls" were approaching from the direction ofthe village; and, as Ham did not care to see company just yet, he gotinto the wagon, and I drove off. He kept one eye on me all the time, andseemed to be afraid that I intended to continue the battle by someunderhand measures.
"I am sorry this thing has happened, Ham; but I couldn't help it," Ibegan, after we had ridden a quarter of a mile in silence. "You pitchedin, and I had to defend myself. I hope you won't do it again."
Ham made no reply.
"Because, if you do, it will come out just as this has," I continued. "Isuppose you feel a little sore about this scrape, for you don't come outfirst-best in it. You know that as well as I do. I reckon you won't wantto talk much to the fellows about it. I don't blame you for not wantingto, Ham. But what I was going to say was this: if you don't say anythingabout it, I shall not."
"I don't know what I shall do," replied he, doggedly.
"I don't, either; but, between you and me, Ham, I don't think you feelmuch like bragging over it. If you don't mention it, I won't."
"I suppose you mean by that, you don't want me to say anything to theold man about it," growled he, involuntarily putting himself in theattitude of a conqueror, and me in that of a supplicant.
"No, Ham; that isn't what I meant. If you want to tell your father oranybody else of it, I'm willing; but one story's good till another'stold. That's all."
Our arrival at Crofton's prevented any further consideration of thematter. Ham leaped out of the wagon without another word, rushed throughthe front gate, and disappeared, while I drove on towards Riverport.