XIAN ADVENTURE WITH A BEAR
Next morning the two eager young hunters were awake and up long before daylight. They carefully oiled and inspected their rifles, while Ben cooked breakfast. The boys were too excited to eat, but each put a substantial lunch in the rear pocket of his hunting-coat.
The air was keen and frosty, and the snow crunched and squeaked under their snowshoes. The lads had become so expert in the use of the “webs” that they found little difficulty in holding the stiff pace set by the guide. They soon came to the place where they had deserted the tracks the night before, and, eager and impatient, they sped along on the trail.
“Say, he can certainly go some,” said George, looking at the great tracks in the snow.
“I should say so,” added Ed.
“Yes, and remember he’s not traveling likehe could if he didn’t have that bad leg,” Ben reminded them.
The trail led along the edge of the lake for some distance, then it turned abruptly to the right and crossed a ridge of heavy timber. Still the bear had continued his pace, and the boys marveled at his strength and agility.
After a time the tracks changed, and the trailers saw that the bear had settled into a walk. Ben pointed out the drag of the damaged limb, which he thought was one of the fore paws. Farther back on the trail he had drawn their attention to marks which showed that several times one of the animal’s front legs had doubled under him.
“He certainly is giving us a run,” Ben declared, when they had gone several miles.
The trail zigzagged down the side of an almost perpendicular hill, and entered the confines of a small swamp. Here they followed it over a bit of partly frozen marsh which vividly recalled to George his experience in that other swamp. He was more careful this time, though there was slight danger of a repetition, for the bog was solid, and consequently less dangerous to walk over. The trail led them out on the opposite side and up over a rough, rock-strewn grade to higher ground. Noting this, Ben ordered a halt.
“He’s going to his den, boys, and we may as well take it easy, for we’re not likely to overtake him before he gets there.”
“Where do you suppose the den is?” asked Ed.
“Haven’t the faintest idea. Over in the next county, maybe; these fellows are powerful travelers.”
“Well, we’ll keep on till we find him, if we have to walk to the north pole,” laughed George.
“You bet,” said Ed.
They scraped the snow from the top of a flat rock and sat down to rest. While they sat there a flock of blue-jays discovered them and began scolding furiously. Ben explained that these noisy birds invariably discover woods travelers, either men or beasts, and by their incessant calling give notice of all advances through the wilderness. He warned the boys to be on the watch for game of some sort whenever they heard the blue-jays. After a time the birds departed, and the hunters rose and toiled laboriously up the ascent.
They found, when they reached the crest, that the trail turned to the left and continued along the top of a low divide. They also noticed that there were fewer blood spots besideit, and Ben said the wounds were not serious. Judging by the manner in which the animal was covering ground, the boys agreed with him. They had already followed its trail a long distance, and the end of the chase was apparently as far off as ever.
The drag of the snowshoes began to tire the lads, but neither would confess it even to himself. They were too anxious to win the coveted trophy ahead of them.
At length, after several more miles had been covered, the guide told the boys that he guessed they would be obliged to make good their boast regarding the north pole. He saw nothing to indicate any ending place this side of it. They laughed and asked him to lead the way; and he smiled, well pleased with their gameness.
By noon the trailers found themselves at the base of a high, granite-capped mountain. Ben decided to stop here for luncheon. He declared that he believed they would find the bear holed up among the ledges which extended along the towering summit above them. An icy stream tumbled noisily down the mountain-side, and beside it they kicked off their snowshoes and prepared to eat their midday meal.
The boys’ legs were stiff and sore from theunusual exercise, but the idea of being near their quarry, at last, kept them from becoming tired. When Ben had made a small fire and prepared some steaming coffee, they did ample justice to their luncheon.
The great gray ledges on the mountain top had a peculiar fascination for the young hunters. They were constantly looking at them. Somewhere up among the gloomy caverns was hidden the savage creature which they pursued. Several times they imagined they actually saw it moving clumsily about among the rocks. They were anxious to begin the long, slippery climb up the mountain. Eager and impatient, they began to fasten on their snowshoes before Ben had finished his after-dinner pipe.
Finally they started slowly on the wearisome climb. In many places the side of the mountain was so steep that the climbers were compelled to lift one snowshoe over the other. At first Ed and George scrambled along in front of Ben. But after several tumbles and a few wild, toboggan-like slides they were content to go more slowly, and they remained behind the guide.
Up and up they climbed, until their hearts pumped wildly, their temples throbbed, and perspiration trickled down their faces. Oftenthey were forced to stop for breath. Then they hurried nervously after Ben, fearful lest he should arrive at the summit before them and get first shot at the bear.
Here and there he showed them where the heavy beast had lost its footing in the slippery snow. It had slid for some distance down the steep incline. Then it had recovered, and in a few desperate bounds regained the lost ground and proceeded on its way.
Finally they arrived at the foot of the big ledges, and they faced more trouble. The passes to the top were difficult and dangerous. And as the boys were entirely inexperienced in the sort of work before them, Ben halted and spent some time studying out a safe way to the summit.
He concluded that the bear itself had chosen the best route. Ordering the lads to remove their snowshoes and sling them over their backs, he led the way cautiously up the face of the cliff, along the narrow, uncertain trail marked out by the bear.
At some spots the ledge on which they walked was less than a foot wide. The boys had many misgivings for their safety as they worked their way gingerly along. They tried to imagine what might happen should they suddenly come face to face with thewounded bear in so perilous a place. The idea was far from pleasant, and they grasped their rifles more tightly.
“There he is!” Ben cried, suddenly, pointing indefinitely to the jumble of loose rock above.
The lads started in spite of themselves, and Ed, in his excitement, barely escaped a tumble from the narrow trail.
“Where is he?” they inquired, their eyes staring wildly at the rocks.
“Don’t you see where his trail turns here and goes into the opening under that big leaning rock?” inquired Ben.
The boys said they saw it; but they had been expecting to see the animal itself.
“You’ll not see him till we poke him out,” laughed Ben, “and then, maybe, you’ll see too much of him. But come on, we may as well begin the festivities.” And, followed by the lads, he began a cautious advance toward the den.
In front of the dark hole beneath the rocks was a level platform several feet wide. The snow all about was trampled down, and Ben thought the animal had taken up its winter quarters there. How to get it out was the question, and he longed for the help of old Moze.
But wishing would do no good, and helooked for something with which to poke out the bear. Seeing a small sapling which had fallen from the top of the ledge and lodged among the rocks, he climbed nimbly up and brought it down.
Suddenly one deep growl after another echoed from the den. Ben dropped the pole and stood back, with rifle cocked, watching for the bear.
“Guess we won’t have to stir him up after all, boys; like as not he’s heard us moseying around out here, and he’s coming outside to investigate. You want to shoot as soon as you see him, and then watch out, ’cause he’s liable to be a mite peevish.”
The boys were trembling with excitement. There was no chance for a retreat. Gripping their rifles and setting their teeth, they made up their minds to give a good account of themselves, whatever happened.
The growling continued, but the bear refused to come out. After waiting some minutes in keen suspense, Ben picked up a small rock and hurled it into the den. An angry snarl followed, and the sound of scuffling, as though the brute had struck savagely at the missile. They waited a few moments longer, hoping that it would appear. Then Ben tossed another stone.
This time a louder roar came from the den, and with startled eyes the boys saw the snarling face of the bear before them.
“Shoot!” yelled Ben.
Before they could obey, the wounded animal rushed from the cave. Straight at them it came, with flashing eyes and snapping jaws. In an effort to stop its murderous charge, the guide, with no time to bring his rifle to shoulder, fired with the weapon held at his hip.
At his warning cry the boys sprang aside. Then, as it rushed past, the bear struck out with one huge paw and sent George over backward and off the narrow ledge. Struggling for a hold with feet or hands, he went sliding down the steep face of the icy cliff. Luckily, he fell on his back, and the snowshoes strapped to his shoulders served for a toboggan. Down he went bumping along at railroad speed. Rocks followed, bounding behind him, and several narrowly missed his head. At last he brought up with a shock against a projecting boulder half-way down the long, steep slope. Dazed and dizzy, the lad threw his arms about it and held on for life.
THE BEAR STRUCK OUT WITH ONE HUGE PAW AND SENT GEORGE OVER BACKWARD
THE BEAR STRUCK OUT WITH ONE HUGE PAW AND SENT GEORGE OVER BACKWARD
THE BEAR STRUCK OUT WITH ONE HUGE PAW AND SENT GEORGE OVER BACKWARD
High above him he heard two shots ring out in rapid succession. He was taking some consolation in the thought that Ben and Edhad killed the bear when a great sliding of rocks caused him to look up. Then his heart almost ceased beating, for there was the enraged brute coming down the slide directly upon him. His rifle was at the den; and, scared and helpless, he crouched there on the snow-covered incline, entirely at the mercy of the bear.
A hoarse shout sounded from above, and a shot quickly followed. George instinctively dodged behind a rock as he heard the bullet sing past his head. Another report sounded from the summit. The bear half turned, rose unsteadily on its hind legs, clawed the air wildly, and rolled down to within a few feet of George.
After a few spasmodic twitches of its powerful muscles, the great creature became motionless. Then George noted that it bled from three distinct wounds, and he wondered if there had been a serious mix-up, and how his friends had fared in the encounter. The slope on which he found himself was very steep, and offered few footholds. He dared not move from his cramped position for fear of plunging to destruction on the sharp rocks far below. How he was to get out of this he did not know, but he felt sure that Ben would find a way.
Finally he saw the head and shoulders of the guide leaning over the edge of the rock platform. Then Ed appeared, and George felt relieved to know that neither had been seriously mauled by the bear.
Ben studied the angle of the slide for some time, and realized that the position of his young charge was a precarious one. The unfortunate lad had lodged at about the steepest place of the rocky descent. He was in the middle of the long slope. The distance to be traversed was equally long and hazardous, whether he chose to climb up or slide down, in his effort to escape. Ben pondered the situation calmly. He finally decided that it would be easier for the boy to make his way carefully to the bottom than it would be to risk a climb toward the rocky rim from which he had fallen.
Under Ben’s guidance George worked his way, an inch at a time, toward a mass of small boulders to his left. It was slow, dangerous work. Had it not been that the guide constantly shouted encouragement, it is doubtful if he could have accomplished the difficult feat.
The cold perspiration came out on his brow, and his knees grew weak when he foolishly disobeyed instructions and glanced intothe depths below. One such look was sufficient, and after that he kept his eyes fixed on his goal. At last he reached the boulders and sank down among them to rest.
“Fine! You’re all right,” Ben called down, cheerfully. “Why, you’re a born mountaineer. Now work down between those rocks, and after you leave them keep in a line with that small tree by the side of that big rock. If you slip, flop over on your back and use your feet for brakes. Remember, slow and easy, and keep behind the tree. Now then, go ahead!” he commanded.
Once more George moved along on his perilous journey, slipping and sliding down from one boulder to another. Finally he reached the last and halted. He dreaded to venture across the almost perpendicular face of slippery rock which he must cross to gain the shelter of the tree. For an instant George hesitated, and regretted that he had come on the trip at all. In another second he was laughing at himself for being afraid; and, setting his teeth, he started cautiously down the incline.
“Look out! Look out!” warned Ben; but it was too late. “Use your feet! Use your feet!”
George had lost his footing! With a wildyell he went speeding down the long, smooth slope of rock. By clever work with his legs and feet he managed to steer his body out of the way of the rocks in his path. The shouts from Ben and Ed grew fainter. He saw the little tree flash past him, and reached forth to grasp it. Then it seemed as though he had thrust his face into a mammoth pincushion.
When he opened his eyes some time later, he found himself in the top of a fallen spruce at the bottom of the slide. His clothes were almost torn from his body, and he was cut and bruised about the face, arms, and limbs. Freeing himself from the entangling branches, George, though stiff and sore, felt quite happy when he found that no bones had been broken.
His alarmed companions watched him go sliding down to what seemed certain injury or possible death. They ran hurriedly back over the trail they had toiled up a few hours earlier, and by the time George had clambered from the tree-top they were working their way rapidly along the base of the mountain in search of him.
“Do you think he’s badly hurt?” called Ed, as they hurried along.
“Wouldn’t wonder,” replied Ben, grimly.
When they finally reached him, George was calmly picking splinters from his hands and arms.
“Are you badly done for?” cried Ed, making his way to the side of his friend.
“No, indeed,” George assured him, and he tried to coax a smile to his pallid face. “I’m only scraped a little and pretty sore. But say, I’m glad it’s all over!”
“Come over here and let me feel you,” Ben commanded.
He proceeded to examine him carefully for broken bones or dislocations, and, failing to find evidences of either, the guide gave a loud whoop of delight.
“You’re tough as nails, young fellow; I wouldn’t care about taking that slide myself.”
“But look at the snowshoes!” said George, sadly, as he exhibited the mass of dangling thongs.
“We’ll patch them up all right,” Ben promised.
“And where is my rifle?” asked the shaken young hunter.
“Right here,” said Ed, handing it to him.
“And the bear-skin; what about that?” inquired George, looking up the steep grade down which he had so lately tumbled.
“Guess we’ll have to leave him there todecorate the landscape,” answered Ben. “That is, unless Ed wishes to climb up after him.” And he winked at George. “But I’m sorry to kill anything and not use it.”
“No, thank you. Anyhow, he doesn’t belong to me. I didn’t shoot him.” Ed laughed.
“Then you shot him, Ben,” said George, extending his hand to the guide.
“Yes; you see, Ben wouldn’t allow me to shoot because you were directly in line with the bear,” Ed explained.
When he heard this George decided to say nothing about the first bullet, which had passed so near his head.
“Well, it was certainly great work, and I’m very much obliged to you fellows for saving me the trouble of killing the bear with my fist,” he laughed.
Realizing that George was in poor shape for the long journey to the cabin, Ben proposed that they look around for a suitable camping-site, build a lean-to, and remain where they were until next day.
George promptly declared that he was perfectly able to stand the trip, and said he would much prefer returning to the cabin. He accepted Ben’s snowshoes only after much persuasion, and, with the guide ahead carryingthe broken ones, they started forth on the exhausting journey to camp.
It was a party of tired hunters that stumbled through the doorway of the little cabin long after dark. Ben dropped his pack to the floor and pulled the wet, snow-laden moccasins from his tired feet. He had tramped the entire distance through three or more feet of half-frozen snow, and the steel-like muscles of his sturdy legs were stiff and sore. The boys were thoroughly exhausted and much disappointed at losing the bear-skin.