THE CAMP IS INVADED
“Don’t run. Keep together back of me. Lieutenant, look out for the
rear. I’ll take care of the rest,” shouted the guide.
“What is it? Hamilton, what is it?” cried Emma.
“Bears!” answered Grace Harlowe. “I never saw so many in all my
life. What does it mean?”
The camp was full of the beasts. They were ambling swiftly here and
there, growling, sniffing, pawing, and apparently without fear.
This, as some of the party knew, was not like the ways of the black
bear. Ordinarily a black bear cannot get away from man quickly
enough. Even the discharge of the guide’s rifle did not put the
invaders to flight.
“Fire into their legs, Lieutenant,” directed White. “We don’t want
to kill them if we can avoid it. Besides, it is against the law.”
The two men let loose with their rifles at the feet of the beasts,
but in the faint light aim was uncertain, and it was only
occasionally that a grunt indicated that an animal had been hit.
Out in the bushes the ponies were snorting in fright. Stacy suddenly
uttered a yell as a bear ran between his legs and threw him down.
From the way the bear got away from him it was evident that the
beast was as badly frightened as was the fat boy. The swift work of
White and Hippy was having its effect, too, and here and there a
dark form was observed ambling away into the forest.
“Now! All together. We’ve got them going!” cried Ham White. “Be
careful that you don’t shoot towards the ponies.”
Stacy ran for his rifle, and a moment later he, too, was firing
away, and continued to fire until he was pulling the trigger on
empty chambers, but his assistance was no longer needed.
“I think they are all out now,” announced the guide. “I suspect that
we shall have some bear meat for breakfast just the same, but we
can’t help it. A man has a right to defend himself, though I always
try to keep within the law. Lieutenant, keep the camp clear while I
build a fire so we can see what we have.”
The coals of the evening fire were still smouldering, and it was the
work of but a few moments to start a blaze large enough to light up
the camp. The bears had torn and uprooted two tents and worked other
havoc. The camp was in a mess.
Hippy circled the camp.
“We got one of the beasts, a small one,” he called. “Sure we’ll have
bear meat for breakfast.”
White hurried to him.
“Nice fat fellow, too. We will dress him, and then we shall have to
guard the carcass or there will be none of it left by morning.”
“I think I’ll turn in, now that the excitement is all over,”
announced Stacy at this juncture.
“You will not. You will assist us to prepare the carcass or you get
no bear steak for breakfast.”
“I don’t care. I prefer venison anyway. Bear meat is too coarse for
Emma and me. We prefer something lighter, more spiritual.”
“_More_ is the meat of your argument, as usual,” flung back Miss
Dean.
With Hippy’s assistance the bear was hung up from a pole which was
thrust through its hocks, and White began deftly skinning it. The
animal was then dressed and left to cool.
The guide was perspiring freely and so was Hippy.
“Good work, Lieutenant. I reckon this isn’t the first time you have
dressed bear,” approved the guide.
“What now?” asked Hippy.
“You people had better go to bed. I shall sit up, for we may look
for visitors before daylight.”
“Visitors!” cried the Overlanders.
“Yes,” answered White, smiling. “You will hear them, and after their
arrival there will be little sleep in this outfit.”
Hippy decided to remain on watch with the guide.
“Oh, Mr. Brown!”
Stacy, on his way to his tent, halted at the guide’s call.
“Well, what is it?”
“Suppose you come over and tell us about it, so that we may laugh at
the joke, too.”
All eyes were turned on the fat boy.
“I’m going to bed,” protested Stacy sourly.
“Not now you are not,” decided Hippy sternly. “You come here. Now,
Mr. White, go on with the entertainment. I suspect we are going to
hear something. In fact, I already have a sneaking suspicion that
there has been something shady in this bear affair.”
“Where did you get the stuff?” began White.
“What stuff?”
“The bear-bait that you have been distributing along the way and in
camp?”
“I—I did—”
“Stacy!” rebuked Emma. “Be a good little George Washington now, and
confess to Hamilton that you cut down the cherry tree.”
“I realized that there was something familiar in the odor that we
detected here last evening, but I could not place it. That odor is
here now. It is bear-bait, and we have you to thank for our
unexpected Sunday dinner,” accused Ham White.
“Stacy Brown! Did you do that?” demanded Nora severely.
“Well, it was this way,” admitted the fat boy.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had the urge to do this terrible
thing so that I might demonstrate over you?” begged Emma.
“Oh, demonstrate over the wild animals.”
“That is what I have suggested,” reminded Emma. “The wild animal did
not give me the cue.”
“Go on, young man,” urged Hippy.
“I—I thought some bear meat might be appreciated by you folks, and
of course I knew we couldn’t shoot bear, as it is out of season,
unless we had to get rid of them. I—”
“Close your throttle! You are on the wrong division,” commanded
Hippy. “Where did you get that stuff—I mean the stuff that you
planted to call the bears?”
“Down at Cresco. I was talking with an old hunter who told me that
he used bear-bait, and could call bear to him at any time. He said I
must plaster it along the trail on bushes, and a few hours
afterwards the bear would come right to the camp, that you didn’t
have to hunt them at all. That is the way to hunt—wait for them to
come to you. It is so much simpler. Well, he had some of it and was
willing to sell it to me for five cart wheels—”
“Five what?” interrupted Nora.
“Cart wheels—dollars. I thought I had been stuck, but I wasn’t, was
I?” chuckled the fat boy. “Wait! I have some of it left in a can.
I’ll get it and show it to you,” offered Stacy, turning to run to
his tent.
“No!” shouted the Overlanders.
Hippy grabbed the fat boy and hauled him back.
“We aren’t finished with you yet. Go on with the story. It is
interesting,” averred Hippy.
“I waited till you were all asleep, then I plastered the tents, and
then went to sleep. You know the rest. It worked, didn’t it?”
“It did,” agreed the guide. Ham White’s eyes were twinkling.
“Stacy Brown, aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” cried Nora Wingate.
“Ashamed? No, of course not. I am proud of myself. The trouble with
you folks is that you have no sense of humor. Even a Britisher would
laugh at this. I haven’t had time to laugh for myself, but I am
going to now.”
Stacy did. He laughed uproariously and long, but there was little
mirth in his laughter. His motive was to put his companions in a
frame of mind that would make it easier for him, for Stacy secretly
feared they would take sweet revenge on him for his prank.
A brief period of silence followed the fat boy’s laughter, then the
Overlanders broke loose. Theirs was real mirth, and their laugh
lasted longer.
“Well, what are we going to do with him?” demanded Hippy.
“I reckon the young man is right about our lack of a sense of
humor,” agreed Ham. “We have had our laugh; we have some fine meat
for to-morrow, and we have had some excitement with no harm done
except a little loss of sleep and a somewhat mussed-up camp. My
suggestion is that if Mr. Brown will go bury that can of bear-bait,
then sleep out in the woods to-night, we will let him off this time.
Well?”
“I’ll bury the stuff, yes, but I won’t sleep out in the woods. The
bears might get me,” objected Stacy. “One tried to, in my tent.”
“That is exactly the point that Hamilton is making,” spoke up Emma.
“Sleep out in the woods, by all means.”
A long, wailing cry echoed through the forest.
“Mercy! What’s that?” cried Nora.
“The coyotes have scented the fresh meat,” answered White. “They
will all be here soon, and some other beasts, too. Are you folks
game for a sight that will thrill you—that will show you the
savagery of nature let loose?” he asked quickly.
“Yes!” agreed the Overlanders eagerly. They did not know what he
proposed to do, but were ready for anything that he might suggest as
a diversion.
“Get your belongings, blankets, and such things as you don’t care to
lose. We men will get the horses, and—”
“Oh, have a heart!” begged Stacy. “What! Ride at this time of night?
I prefer to stay in camp.”
“You may,” agreed the guide.
Stacy sat down and regarded the preparations sourly, but when he saw
that his companions really were going to leave him, he ran for his
pony and his equipment. It was but a short time later that the party
filed out of camp, leading their horses, stepping out at a brisk
walk, for White was in some haste.
After proceeding several hundred yards from the camp, the guide
halted.
“Tie your stock, and tie them securely, for we shall have to leave
them here alone for a time,” he directed.
This having been done, the party gathered together, waiting for Ham
White to direct them what to do next.
“We will wait here for the present,” he said.
Five, ten minutes of tense silence passed; then a long mournful howl
resounded through the forest. It was answered by other howls farther
away, then a scream brought rustlings in the tree-tops where the
birds stirred restlessly.
“They’re coming. Move forward cautiously; make no loud noises and be
careful where you step. No one is to use a weapon unless I tell him
to do so. Come!”