A GRIZZLY BEAR.
Ebenezer Onthank was an early riser. He had been brought up on a farm,
where, during a part of the year it was the custom for the "menfolks" to
rise between four and five o'clock in the morning to begin the labors of
the day. His old habit clung to him, and at five o'clock, when Tom and
Ferguson were yet asleep, Mr. Onthank sprang from his leafy couch
refreshed and vigorous.
Seeing his companions yet sleeping, he concluded to take a walk.
"It'll give me an appetite for breakfast," thought he, "and a chance to
see something of the country."
As to the appetite, Ebenezer was generally well provided. Indeed,
latterly his appetite had exceeded his means of gratifying it, and more
than once he had longed to be back at his old home in the Vermont
farm-house, where the table was always generously, if not elegantly,
furnished. If Ebenezer had a special weakness it was for doughnuts,
which he called nut-cakes.
"If I only had a few of marm's nut-cakes," he had said the night before
to his new-found friends, "I'd be a happy man."
"What are nut-cakes?" asked the Scotchman, puzzled.
"Don't you know what nut-cakes are?" inquired Ebenezer, astonished at
Ferguson's ignorance.
"I never heard of them before," said Ferguson.
"Well, I declare! I thought everybody knew what nut-cakes are,"
ejaculated the Yankee. "Don't you ever make 'em in Scotland?"
"Not that I ever heard."
"Then you don't know what is good. You know what they are, Tom?"
"Oh, yes," said Tom, smiling. "We often have them at home. Perhaps Mr.
Ferguson would understand better if he heard them called doughnuts or
crullers."
Thus defined Mr. Ferguson acknowledged that he had heard of them, and he
thought he had once tasted one. Scotland, however, fell considerably in
the estimation of Mr. Onthank, when he learned that his favorite article
of food was almost unknown in that distant country.
"You Scotchmen don't know what is good," he said. "If you ever come to
Green Mountain Mills, I'll get marm to fry a batch of nut-cakes, and
you'll say they're goloptious."
This last word was not familiar to Ferguson, but the smack of the lips
with which it was accompanied made it sufficiently intelligible. He
assured Ebenezer politely that he hoped some day to accept his kind
invitation.
When Ebenezer left the camp he had no definite plan of exploration.
Everything was alike new to him, and it mattered little in what
direction his steps led him. It was a charming morning. The sun had
risen, and hill and valley were glorified by its slanting rays. The air
was bracing, and Ebenezer, though neither a poet nor a sentimentalist,
felt his spirits rise, as with vigorous steps he strode on, letting his
eyes wander at will over the landscape.
"Looks kinder han'some," he said to himself. "I wish Susan Jones was
with me now. Gals like to walk round and look at scenery, and pick
flowers, and so on. As for me, a good field of corn suits me better than
all the flowers in the world. They're only good to smell of; out here
though I'd like a good 'claim' best. It seems cu'rus to think how much
money you can get sometimes from a hole in the ground. Beats cornfields
for profit, by a great sight, if you only get hold of the right place. I
just wish I could find a big nugget, as big as my head. I guess it would
make me the richest man in Green Mountain Mills. I'd be a bigger man
than the old deacon. They'd be glad to make me selectman, and perhaps
send me to Montpelier after a while to make laws. Well, there's no
knowin' what may turn up. Why shouldn't I light on a nugget as well as
the next man?"
In this pleasant channel the thoughts of our Yankee adventurer were
running as he strode over the uneven ground, with all the vigor gained
by his hardy training. But his walk was destined to be interrupted in a
decidedly unpleasant manner. All at once he became conscious of a huge
object, scarcely thirty yards distant, whose attention he had already
attracted. Mr. Onthank had been long enough in California to recognize
in the huge, unwieldy figure--a grizzly bear!
Ebenezer Onthank was no coward, but it must be admitted that when he saw
the eyes of the grizzly fixed upon him he turned pale, and his limbs
trembled. He had heard from fellow-miners stories of the great strength
and ferocity of this most formidable beast. The grizzly bear shows no
fear of man. He is always ready to make an attack, even when not
stimulated by hunger. Even the lion is crafty and cunning, and likes to
attack his enemy unawares; but the grizzly boldly advances to the attack
without seeking to surprise his adversary. If out of humor it makes no
account of odds, but will as readily attack a party as a single foe.
Col. Albert S. Evans, the author of an interesting volume, containing
sketches of life in California, says, "I am satisfied that an average
grizzly could at any time whip the strongest African lion in a fair
stand-up fight, while a full-grown bull is no more to him than a rat is
to the largest house-cats."
Twenty-five years ago the grizzly was to be found in various parts of
California. As the State has become settled his haunts have become
contracted, but even now, as the writer just quoted assures us, he is
still found in great numbers in the Coast Range Mountains from San Diego
to Del Norte. In describing Samson, a famous specimen once on exhibition
in San Francisco, we are told that "his strength was that of an
elephant, and his claws, eight inches in length, curved like a rainbow
and sharp as a knife, would enable him to tear open anything made of
flesh and blood as you or I would open a banana."
Such was the new acquaintance who confronted Mr. Onthank, and barred
his progress.
"Jerusalem!" ejaculated the surprised and dismayed Yankee, and he
instinctively felt for his rifle. But, alas! he had left it in the camp.
It was thoughtless and imprudent to venture out unarmed; but the scene
was so quiet and peaceful that no thought of danger had entered the mind
of our unlucky friend.
The bear sat upon his haunches, and stared at the intruder. Ebenezer,
brought to a stand-still, returned his gaze. They were less than a
hundred feet apart, and the situation was decidedly critical.
"I guess he wants to chaw me up for his breakfast," thought Ebenezer,
despairingly, "and I don't see what I can do to prevent it."
The bear, however, seemed in no hurry to commence the attack. He
surveyed our Yankee with dignified gravity, conscious that he had him at
advantage. When Ebenezer felt for his rifle he uttered a low growl,
being possibly aware of his purpose. Possibly he laughed in his sleeve
(some of my young critics may suggest that bears have no sleeves) at his
failure.
Ebenezer looked about him despairingly. No man will surrender at
discretion to a grizzly, for he can hope for no mercy. But what could be
done? Once subjected to the terrible hug, and the life would be crushed
out of him in less than a minute.
"If Ferguson and Tom were only here!" thought poor Ebenezer.
But the camp was at least two miles away, and his two companions,
unconscious of his terrible peril, were calmly sleeping, and not likely
to awaken till he was a crushed and bleeding corpse.
In great crises the mind travels rapidly. I shall not attempt to record
the thoughts that chased one another through the mind of the luckless
adventurer. But they were by no means pleasant.
"I shall never see Green Mountain Mills again," he thought, with an
inward groan. "I shall never marry Susan Jones, or eat any of marm's
nut-cakes. If I only had my rifle here, I'd make one effort for my life.
I'd spoil the beauty of that ugly devil anyhow."
Still, as if charmed, he stood staring open-eyed at the grizzly.
Bruin, deciding that this had lasted long enough, began in a slow and
dignified manner to approach the intruder upon his solitude.
This broke the charm. With a wild shout Ebenezer Onthank took to his
heels and flew over the ground at a rate of speed which Weston, the
champion runner, would scarcely be able to equal.
The grizzly accepted the challenge, and increased his own speed,
developing an activity hardly to be expected of his huge and unwieldy
form.
It was man against beast, with the odds decidedly in the favor of the
latter.