IN CLOSE QUARTERS.
The bear seemed to know that a dangerous enemy was upon his track, and
was not only frightened but infuriated by the fact. In his aimless
flight, he came directly upon a small clearing, in the center of which
stood a log-cabin cottage, surrounded by a small patch of cultivated
ground.
At the very moment of his appearance, a lithe, handsome young lady was
passing across this clearing with a pail of water in her hand. Catching
sight of the bear, she uttered a shrill scream of terror, that caught
Crockett's ear, and ran at full speed for the open door of her cabin,
while the exasperated brute, with a growl of fury, made for her.
The girl was fleet of foot, and seemed to run with the speed of the
wind; but the bear was so close upon her, that, when she darted into
the door she had not time to close it behind her.
As Davy Crockett sprung into the clearing he caught a glimpse of the
girl as she vanished through the door, and saw the huge brute lunging
after her. As quick as thought his rifle was at his shoulder, and he
blazed away at his hind quarters, so rapidly disappearing from view.
It would have been better if the shot had not been fired, for, striking
the monster in the haunch, it did not inflict even a dangerous wound,
and only succeeded in adding to the fury of the animal, whose rage was
already at the boiling-point.
The hunter saw him twitch from the stinging pain, as, with an ominous,
cavernous growl, he disappeared in the cabin, from whose interior were
heard the heart-rending shrieks of the terror-stricken girl.
Crockett became desperate. His rifle was of no further use, and
throwing it aside, he threw his arm back of his neck, and drew forth an
awful-looking knife--a genuine Bowie, presented to the hunter by the
daring little inventor himself.
"Panthers and wildcats!" he exclaimed, as he ran like a deer across
the clearing; "that bear has got into the wrong pen, and ef he isn't
got out in a hurry, he'll raise the biggest kind of a rumpus, which I
rather reckon he's doing now!"
In a twinkling, he was at the door, and without hesitation sprung
within. Only a glance was needed to understand the situation.
The fair fugitive, upon reaching the interior of the cabin, had felt
instinctively that there was no safety upon the lower floor, and had
gone up the stairs in the corner, in a more expeditious manner than she
had ever done before.
The bear evidently had not seen her, and was nosing around for her in
the lower apartment. When the hunter bounded into the room, he was the
very man he wanted to see and he "went for him."
Crockett had been in a hand-to-hand struggle before with these
creatures and he knew what they were. He wasn't particularly anxious to
be caught at a disadvantage, so when the brute made a plunge at him,
he dodged and slipped aside, the bear striking with such force against
the door that it was banged to, and the two contestants were thus shut
together.
"Come up-stairs! quick!" shouted the same voice that had uttered the
screams. "Come quick or you will be killed! he will have you sure, if
you don't hurry!"
Now, if this same voice had only remained quiet, it is not at all
improbable that Crockett might have retreated up-stairs; but, with
his characteristic stubbornness, he determined to pay no heed to this
appeal, while at the same time he was actuated by a suspicion that
perhaps the bear might invade this retreat, and thus endanger the young
lady whom he was so anxious to befriend.
"Never mind me," he called out, as he dodged to the other side of the
room and kept his eyes fixed keenly upon his antagonist. "I've been
in this kind of business afore, but look out the brute don't find out
where you are, for I don't blame him for wanting to swaller such a
purty piece."
The girl didn't appeal to him any more: doubtless she concluded she was
only wasting her breath.
The lower floor, I should remark, was like the ordinary apartments of
the log-cabins on the frontier. One large room occupied the lower part
of the building, and here were the fire-place, closet, table, chairs
and various domestic articles.
Crockett glanced at the fire-place in the hope of finding some
embers there, but one look showed that the young lady had made her
preparations for kindling a fire, but the light had not yet been
applied; so that means of defense was thereby rendered unavailable.
But he still grasped his huge Bowie, all-potent in his hands, and he
concluded it was time his formidable enemy was made to feel its point.
The bear did not permit him to remain idle long, but turning with
wonderful quickness for such a lumbering animal, he reared on his hind
legs, and with his red mouth open and growling voice, came in a direct
line toward him.
Every thing was now to be sacrificed for defense, and catching up the
table, Crockett slammed it full in the face of the bear, and then
darting nimbly forward, plunged his knife half-way to the hilt in
his body. He would have driven it to the handle, had not the point
encountered a bone.
Having no time to repeat the blow, he withdrew the weapon, and leaped
backward, just in time to escape the furious lunge of the brute. The
blood poured in a stream from the frightful wound made, but the bear
seemed to feel no loss of strength and to be unconscious of the hurt he
had received.
A few more such blows, however, were only needed to "settle the hash"
of the creature, and Crockett now endeavored to inflict them as
speedily as possible, without receiving any return.
The bear was awkward in his movements, but there was also a certain
swiftness that made it exceedingly dangerous to his antagonist. At
the same time, his size compelled more dexterity upon the part of
Crockett, who leaped and danced about the room like an acrobat on
exhibition.
Finding himself in a corner, the hunter was forced to dart so close to
the bear that its descending paw grazed his back and tore off a few
strips from his hunting-shirt, and a twinge or two of pain, reminded
him of what was in store for him, if the brute once got him in his
embrace.
Again the knife sunk deeply into the body of the bear, being driven
this time from the back, and sent in with such vigor, that it produced
a sensible effect upon the raging monster.
But such a mass of vitality was not easily destroyed, and for the time
the bear was more furious than ever. Crockett was kept so continually
dodging and leaping about, that he found it utterly impossible to get
in another blow; and as he circled around the room, he was in imminent
peril of being thrown down by some of the articles of furniture that
were continually in his way.
Moving thus, too, he caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes, peering down
from the stairs, while the fair owner held a rifle in her hands as if
awaiting the opportunity to use it.
"Shall I shoot?" she finally asked, in a suppressed voice, as he passed
near her.
"When you're sartin of plugging him," replied Crockett, never once
removing his eyes from the glowing orbs of the beast.
It was plain that if the hunter was going to escape with his life,
something must be done to weaken the bear, that was pressing him so
close that a collision could not be postponed much longer.
Any man who has ever met Colonel Davy Crockett knows that when fairly
aroused he had a fearful temper, and was reckless in what he did. His
blood was now fairly up, and he determined that he had retreated about
long enough.
"Confound you!" he muttered, as he steadied himself against the side of
the wall, preparatory to making his charge, "do you think I am afeard
of you?"
And then uttering a yell, such as he had heard escape the throats of
the Creek Indians at the massacre of Fort Mimms, he bounded toward his
foe.
The bear at this minute was reared on his hind legs, with paws up.
Crockett, as he reached these formidable weapons, ducked his head, so
as to pass beneath them, and as quick as thought buried his knife into
the side of the brute.
It was a terrible blow, and gave the creature such a spasm of pain that
his paws dropped almost involuntarily, and Crockett was compelled to
extricate himself in such haste, that he was unable to withdraw his
knife and take it with him.
This made his situation ten-fold more perilous. He had no weapon at all
with which to defend himself, and it was only left for him to await
the fierce onslaught of the terrible foe. Thoroughly aroused, he was
determined on recovering his knife, even though at the imminent risk of
his life.
"Come up-stairs!" shouted the terrified girl, who was vainly seeking a
chance to fire upon the bear, "he will kill you _now_, sure!"
"Let him kill me then!" was the stubborn reply of Crockett. "I am going
to git that knife ag'in, or he's going to git me."
Believing he had a chance, the hunter made a lunge for it. He struck
the handle, but he could not retain his hold, and, as his hand slipped
off, he received a staggering blow from the bear, that knocked him to
the floor.
A gasp of terror escaped the girl, but Crockett recovered himself and
made another attempt to regain his property.
Again his hand grasped the handle, and the brute made for him. Had
the hunter let the knife go, and sprung out of the way, he would have
escaped easily; but, mad with rage, he held fast to it, refusing to
loosen his grip, even when he felt the weight of the paws upon his
shoulders.
With a desperate effort, he jerked the Bowie loose, the blood gushing
after it in a copious stream. Then he attempted to pull away, but
it was too late, and the two went down together, locked in a death
embrace, Crockett believing that his last day had come!