STAMPEDED BY AN INTRUDER
The sight that had so affected Stacy Brown was that of a black bear
nosing about the camp. The animal was apparently following the
anise oil trail that Stacy had laid with such care.
The fat boy watched with fascinated eyes for a moment. But, as the
bear turned its attention to the camp, Stacy beat a hasty retreat
into the tent. Once inside and the flap pulled shut he made bold to
peer out. He saw Charlie John calmly sitting astride the crotch of a
tree some ten feet from the ground. The Indian did not seem to be
worrying. No bears would be likely to reach him up there unless,
perhaps, Mr. Bruin decided to climb the tree, which he would not do
so long as there remained anything of interest in the camp below.
Stacy ducked back as he saw the animal heading in his direction. The
lad waited, fully expecting to see the pointed, inquisitive nose
poked through the tent opening. But, no bear coming, Stacy again
crept to the front on hands and knees, and, pulling the flap back
slightly, peered out. Something cold and chilling poked him in the
face.
It was Mr. Bruin's nose. With an unearthly yell, the fat boy leaped
back and sprang to the rear of the tent. He turned just in time to
see the bear ambling in.
Stacy whipped out his hunting knife, slitting the canvas at the rear,
and made a run for the nearest tree, which proved to be a sapling.
He started to climb it, then changing his mind grabbed up a rope and
shinned up the tree occupied by Charlie. Charlie helped him up,
panting.
"Fat boy much big fool," granted the Indian.
"See here, don't you say that again," threatened Chunky angrily.
"Why didn't you stay down there and fight him?"
"No gun, no fight."
"No, I see not," answered the boy dryly. "That's what's the matter
with me. I didn't have a gun. Did you see him come into my tent?
There he goes. Now what's he up to?"
"Him eat plenty butter."
Him did. The bear ate two pounds of butter that he had pawed from
the table. The animal licked his chops and looked for more.
Fortunately the rest of the butter was suspend from a wire strung
between two trees out of reach. The animal tried to get at this,
failing in which it squatted down at the base of the tree where the
half-breed and the boy were seeking security.
"He's going to keep us here all the rest of the day," groaned Chunky.
The Indian broke off a piece of limb and taking careful aim
threw it at the bear. It smote Mr. Bruin on the point of his tender
nose. The bear uttered a snarl and a growl, then began to rub his
paws over the smarting nose. He danced about very much as had Stacy
Brown when stung by the bees, and the fat boy shouted with glee. He
shouted louder when the animal suddenly wheeled about on its haunches
and began ambling from the camp.
"Me fix um," grinned the Indian, sliding to the ground.
"You certainly did give him the run," agreed Chunky. "Will he come
back?" Stacy was still prudently sitting astride the limb.
"Him no come back."
"Good. I wish he had taken a slice out of you while he was here,"
added the lad under his breath.
"Come down. Him no come back."
"Thank you, I will, seeing that you put it that way," answered
Chunky, descending from the tree. "We know how to give hears the
run, don't we, John Charles?"
"Huh! Much fool!" grunted the Indian.
"Much butter gone," he added, ruefully surveying the butter plate.
"Guide him git mad."
"That won't hurt us any, John. He will be glad to know that we drove
the bear off. I'll tell him what a brave thing we did. Hark!"
"White men come back," nodded John.
"How do you know?"
"Hear um."
"Yes, I hear something, too, but I don't know who or what I hear."
"Hear um. Mr. Vaughn no come 'long."
"You have sharp ears, Mr. John Charles. We'll see how good your
hearing really is."
Stacy opened his eyes when, a few minutes later, all of the party
came hiking into camp, with the exception of Cale Vaughn. The
Indian's sharp ears had heard aright.
"Where's the guide?" demanded Chunky.
"He left us on the other side of the creek to follow out a bear track
that he just picked up," answered Tad. "He will be here pretty soon."
"What, haven't you anything to eat?" called Ned.
"Not time yet. Besides, Johnnie Charles and Brown Stacy have been
busy most of the afternoon."
John grinned.
"You fellows chasing bear tracks, eh?"
"No. Following them," corrected Tad.
"If you want to catch bears you had better stay right here in the
camp. This is the headquarters for bears as well as for Pony Rider
Boys."
"What has been going on here?" asked Tad, eyeing the fat boy keenly,
observing that Stacy's face was flushed and excited.
"What's been going on? I'll tell you. We had a call from a bear, a
bear almost as big as my pony."
"What, bears here in camp?" exclaimed Walter apprehensively.
"Yes, bears here in camp. But I drove him off after a fierce
hand-to-hand conflict in which I nearly lost my life. Yes, sir, I
fought that bear right there in my tent and--and you can see the
result of the fray if you will go in my tent."
"Where did you say you were when the bear was here?" interrupted
Butler.
"Fat boy up tree," the half-breed informed them.
"I thought so," nodded Tad, grinning.
"Well, tell us about the bear."
"Him eat butter from table, then him go way again," answered Charlie.
"I really believe there has been a bear here," pondered Ned.
"You are right there has. You go look in my tent, if you don't
believe me," answered Stacy. "Yes, sir, and I slapped him right in
the face when he tried to kiss me. What do you think of that?"
"Tried to kiss you?" questioned Walter.
"Yes. Stuck his cold nose right against my nose. Ugh! Didn't he,
John?"
The Indian nodded, but without realizing what Stacy was saying.
"Why didn't you shoot him?" asked Butler.
"Gun in other tent," replied Charlie.
"Yes. And we don't need guns. I was going to use my trusty knife,
but I didn't want to hurt the poor thing." added Chunky.
"Brave man," remarked Ned.
"I am glad I wasn't here," said Walter. "I know I should have been
scared half to death. Weren't you scared, Chunky?"
"What! Me scared?" demanded the fat boy, throwing out his chest.
"Did you ever hear of Stacy Brown being scared? Oh, wow! Yeow!"
"What, what, what---" shouted the Professor.
"There he is again!" yelled Stacy. "Run! Run, fellows; he's after
us! Run, I tell you!"
Stacy, acting upon his own advice was already shinning up a tree.
The others were not far behind him. So sudden had been the
appearance of Bruin that they had no time to think. Even Tad Butler
followed the rest when the bear ambled toward him. Charlie John, at
the first alarm, had made tracks for the protection of the crotch
where he had sought security on the first visit of the bear.
"More bear," grunted the Indian.
"What do you mean?" called Ned.
"He means this isn't the same one," Stacy informed them.
"I thought you weren't afraid?" jeered Ned Rector.
"I'm not," protested Stacy.
"No, I see you are not. Why don't you get down and fight him, then?"
"I--I haven't got my knife," stammered the fat boy.
Tad began scrambling from the tree.
"Tad, Tad!" called the Professor.
"Yes, sir?"
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to get that bear if I can."
"Get back there!"
Tad slipped off the rope that he had bound about his waist before
starting out on the hike that morning. Each one of the party had put
away his rifle upon reaching camp. Some had their hunting knives on
their persons, but those were their only weapons.
[Illustration: Tad's Rope Wriggled Out.]
The bear was now ambling about the camp, nosing into everything in
sight, helping himself to such food as he was able to find,
overturning packs and dishes in the search for more. Observing Tad,
Mr. Bruin lurched toward the boy. Tad was struggling with his rope
to get it in shape to cast.
"Run, Tad!" shouted Rector.
Tad did run, dodging here and there to gain time. In a few moments
he had his rope ready, then began a hide-and-seek game between bear
and boy, the Pony Rider Boy watching for an opportunity to use the
rope. All at once his rope wriggled out. The big loop slipped
neatly over the head of the bear and was quickly jerked taut.
Such a yell as went up from the boys in the trees! Even the
Professor shouted his approval. But the bear became suddenly
electrified. Rearing on his hind legs he began pawing at the leash,
snarling and growling furiously. Tad meanwhile was dancing here and
there, jerking on the rope, tugging and trying his best to pull his
captive down to all fours. Tad might as well have sought to pull
over one of the tall spruce, for the bear's strength, of course, was
far superior to that of the boy who had roped him.
Ned Rector, by this time, was scrambling from the tree. Tad was too
busy to observe what his companion was doing. Ned ran for his tent,
appearing a moment later with his rifle.
"Look out!" warned the Professor. "You will hit one of us."
"No, I won't. I guess I can't miss the mark so close as
this."
Ned, at the first favorable opportunity, raised his rifle and, taking
quick aim, fired. The bear staggered backward, and Tad fell over
flat on his back. Ned Rector had shot the rope in two close up to
Mr. Bruin's head.
"Shoot again! Quick!" yelled Tad.
Instead of doing so, Rector, seeing what he had done, hurled his
rifle away and made a dash for a tree, for the bear was ambling
toward him, showing his teeth and growling angrily. Tad had sprung
to his feet and was looking about for the rifle when a yell from the
boys up the trees caused him to glance back apprehensively. What he
saw decided the lad on the instant. Three other bears, large ones,
were ambling into camp, nosing about and sniffing the ground. At
this juncture, in his excitement, Stacy fell out of the tree. Tad
ran to assist the fat boy up again, but Chunky needed no help. He
was in more of a hurry than he ever had been in his life. This time
he shinned up a sapling, the nearest tree to him.
The sapling bent under his weight; it bent perilously close to one of
the bears--so close, in fact, that the fat boy's feet struck the head
of the bear. The animal raised on its haunches and swung a mighty
paw. The paw caught Stacy Brown, sending him rolling, tumbling and
yelling over the ground.
The boys who were perched in the trees groaned. Ned began scrambling
down again.
"Stay where you are!" shouted Tad.