A BEAR HUNT.
"I'll jest do it, an' it's the luckiest thing in the world that I
thought of it. That will make me wuth--" here he stopped and counted
his fingers--"twenty-two dollars and two bits, anyhow. Then my
clothes, an' stockings, an' shoes, an' all the powder an' lead I want
this winter, won't cost me nothing; so I shall be rich fur all that
thar mean Dave is workin' so hard agin me."
It was Dan Evans who talked thus to himself, and he was standing
behind the cabin, with his hands in his pockets, and looking at Don's
pointer, just as he was the last time we saw him. He was so very much
delighted with certain plans he had determined upon that that he
did not dare meet his brother again just then, for fear that the
expression of joy and triumph which he knew his face wore would
attract David's notice and put him on his guard. So he remained in
the rear of the cabin with his thoughts for company, until his mother
came home. The dress David had purchased for her, and which he had
placed in the most conspicuous position he could find, was the first
thing that attracted her attention as she entered the door. Dan heard
her exclamation of joyful surprise, and listened with all his ears in
the hope of overhearing some of the conversation that passed between
her and David; but it was carried on in a low tone of voice, and Dan
was no wiser when it was concluded than he was before. He knew,
however, by the ejaculations that now and then fell from his mother's
lips that David was telling her something which greatly interested
her, and Dan would have given almost anything to know what it was. He
heard his mother laugh a little occasionally, and that brought the
scowl back to his face again. He could not bear to know that any one
about that house was happy.
When supper was over, and David had done the chores and assisted
in clearing away the dishes, he and his mother seated themselves
in front of the fireplace and prepared to pass the evening in
conversation, as they always did, while Dan threw himself upon the
"shake-down" on which he and his brother slept, and in a few minutes
began snoring lustily. He was not asleep, however. His ears were
open, and so were his eyes the most of the time. He saw everything
that was done and heard all that passed between his mother and
David, but not a word did he hear that interested him. David had
already given his mother a history of the events of the day. She
knew what his plans were and approved them.
When nine o'clock came David took possession of the other half of the
"shake-down" and prepared to go to sleep. He deposited his clothes at
the head of the bed, as usual, and Dan, through his half-closed eyes,
saw that he threw them down in a careless sort of way, as though
there was nothing of value in them.
"But he can't fool me so easy," thought Dan. "Not by no means. Thar's
ten dollars somewhar in them thar dry goods, unless he give 'em to
the ole woman when she fust come hum, an' they'll be mine afore
mornin'. He wouldn't go snacks with me, like a feller had oughter do,
an' now I'll have 'em all!"
In an hour from that time everybody in the cabin appeared to be
asleep. Mrs. Evans certainly was and David seemed to be, for he lay
with his eyes closed, and breathed long and heavily. Dan took a good
look at him--the blazing fire on the hearth made the cabin almost as
light as day--and then reaching out his hand drew David's clothes
toward him. He searched all the pockets carefully, but there was
nothing in them except a pocket-knife with two broken blades, and
that was not what Dan was looking for. Muttering something under his
breath Dan turned all the pockets inside out and then felt of the
lining of the coat; but as nothing rewarded his search he tossed the
clothes back upon the floor, and cautiously slipped his hand under
his brother's pillow. As he did so David suddenly raised himself
upright in bed, and seizing the pillow, lifted it from its place.
"If you want to look under there, why don't you say so?" he asked.
Almost any other boy would have been overcome with shame and
mortification, but Dan was not easily abashed, and although he felt
a little crestfallen, his face did not show it.
"It isn't there you see, don't you?" said David.
"What isn't thar?" growled Dan.
"Why, the ten-dollar bill you saw me have at the landing. It isn't
in my clothes either, or anywhere about the house."
"I wasn't lookin' fur it," returned Dan.
"I'll tell you where it is, if you want to know," continued David.
"It is safe in Don Gordon's pocket-book, and you can't get it out of
there. I told you that you'd never have another chance to steal any
of my money, and I think you will believe it now. Good-night, and
pleasant dreams to you; that is, if you can sleep after such a
performance."
Dan could sleep, and he did, too, after he got over his rage, but
his night's rest did not seem to refresh him much, for he was cross
and sullen the next morning, and ate his breakfast without saying a
word to anybody. David was as bright as a lark; and after he had
assisted his mother in her household duties, he took down his rusty
old single-barrel from the pegs over the fireplace, slung on his
powder-horn and shot-pouch, and when his mother was ready to go, he
accompanied her down the road toward General Gordon's, leaving Dan
sitting on the bench, moody and thoughtful.
"They don't take no more notice of me nor if I was a yaller dog or a
crooked stick," growled Dan, when he found himself alone. "I'll pay
'em fur it by kickin' up a wusser row nor pap done 'bout that thar
bar'l, an' I shan't be long a doin' of it nuther!"
Mrs. Evans and David separated at the forks of the road, the former
directing her course toward the house of the neighbor by whom she was
employed, and David hurrying on toward General Gordon's. When he
reached the head of the lake he heard a loud shout; and looking in
the direction from which it came, he saw Don and Bert standing on the
wharf beckoning to him. David ran across the garden to join the
brothers, and found that they were all ready to start on the hunt
they had planned the day before. A well-filled basket, which David
knew contained a substantial lunch, stood on the wharf, and near it
lay the General's heavy double-barrel gun, which Bert had borrowed
for the occasion, knowing that it would throw buck-shot with more
force than his light bird gun. Bert was unfastening the canoe, and
Don stood close by, with his trusty rifle in one hand and an axe in
the other. Two other axes lay near the lunch basket, and a couple of
Don's best hounds stood as close to the edge of the wharf as they
could get, wagging their tails vigorously and whining with
impatience.
These hounds were large and powerful animals, and their courage
had been tested in more than one desperate bear fight. If they had
been with their master when he visited the island the day before,
something disagreeable might have happened. Godfrey Evans could not
have driven them away by imitating the growl of a wild animal. They
welcomed the newcomer with their bugle-like notes, and were answered
by a chorus of angry yelps from the rest of the pack, which had been
shut up in the barn and were to be left behind.
"Now, I call this rather a formidable expedition," said Don, as David
came up. "If that bear is there to-day I wouldn't take a dollar for
my chance of shooting him. One bullet and three loads of buckshot
will be more than he can carry away with him. Here are the axes to
build the trap with, if we don't find him on the island; there's a
bag of corn for bait, an auger to bore the holes and the pins with
which to fasten the logs together. Bert and I worked in the shop last
night until ten o'clock, making those pins. I think we have
everything we wan't, so we'll be off."
The canoe having been hauled alongside the wharf, and the articles
which Don had enumerated being packed away in it, the hounds jumped
in and curled themselves up in the bow, David took his place at
the oars and the brothers found comfortable seats in the stern.
Altogether it was a heavy load the little boat had to carry, and
she was so deep in the water that her gunwales were scarcely three
inches above the surface; but there were never any heavy seas to be
encountered in that little lake, and so there was no danger to be
apprehended.
David sent the canoe rapidly along, and presently it entered the
bayou that led to Bruin's Island. As it approached Godfrey Evans's
cabin Dan arose from the bench on which he was seated in front of the
door, and ran hastily around the corner of the building. He did not
mean that Don and Bert should see him again, even at a distance, if
he could help it. He remained concealed until the canoe was out of
sight, and then came back to his bench again.
While on the way up the bayou the young hunters stopped once, long
enough to pick up a brace of ducks which Bert killed out of a flock
that arose from the water just in advance of them, and at the end of
an hour came within sight of the leaning sycamore which pointed out
the position of Bruin's Island. There was no one to be seen, but that
was no proof that the island was deserted. There was some one there
whom the three boys did not expect to see or hear of very soon, and
that was Godfrey Evans. He was waiting for Dan to come with the canoe
and the tobacco and other articles he had been instructed to purchase
at the store. He had watched for him until long after midnight, then
retreated to his bed of leaves under the lean-to for a short nap,
and at the first peep of day he was again at his post behind the
sycamore. To his great relief he saw the boat coming at last, but his
joy was of short duration, for a second look showed him that Dan was
not in it.
The canoe came nearer to the island with every stroke of the oars,
and presently one of Don's hounds started to his feet, snuffed the
air eagerly for a moment and uttered a deep-toned bay. Godfrey ducked
his head on the instant and crawled swiftly away from the sycamore on
his hands and knees. He was careful to keep the tree between himself
and those in the boat until he reached the cane, and then he arose to
his feet and worked his way toward his camp with all possible haste.
"Them two oneasy chaps has come back agin, just as I thought they
would," said he to himself, "and our Dave's with 'em. Don's got his
rifle now and his dogs, too, so't thar ain't no use tryin' to scare
him this time. I must hunt a new hidin'-place now."
Godfrey stopped in his camp just long enough to seize his rifle and
ammunition; after which he plunged into the cane again and ran toward
the head of the island. The muddy beach was thickly covered with
drift-wood, and behind a convenient pile of branches and logs Godfrey
crouched down and waited to see what was going to happen.
The actions of Don's hounds made the young hunters almost as nervous
as they made Godfrey Evans. David stopped tugging at the oars and
looked over his shoulder; Bert caught up his father's double-barrel
and hastily loaded it with two cartridges containing buckshot; while
Don, after bringing the canoe broadside to the island, dropped the
paddle with which he was steering, and picked up his rifle.
"He's there yet," said Bert. "The hounds have scented him already."
"It looks like it," replied Don. "Well, we came here to find him, and
if he drives us away to-day he'll have to fight to do it. Dave, you'd
better load up--Bert has plenty of loose buckshot in his pocket--and
mind you now, fellows, don't get excited and shoot the dogs. I'd
rather let the bear go than have one of them hurt."
While David was loading his single-barrel--his hands trembled a
little, and it took him longer than usual to do it--Don and Bert sat
with their guns across their knees, closely watching the island,
while the hounds stood in the bow snuffing the air. They caught some
taint upon the breeze, that was evident, for the long hair on the
back of their necks stood erect and now and then they growled
savagely.
When David had driven home a good-sized charge of buckshot and placed
a cap upon his gun, he leaned the weapon against the thwart upon
which he was sitting and picked up the oars. Don dropped his paddle
into the water, and the canoe moved around the foot of the island and
along the beach, until it reached a point opposite the place where
Bert had found the path the day before. Then it was turned toward the
bank, and the moment the bow grounded, the hounds sprang out. The
boys followed with all haste, and Bert, as he stepped ashore, drew
the canoe half way out of the water, so that the current could not
carry her down the stream.
"Now, we'll send the dogs in to drive him out," said Don, "and if
they can push him fast enough to make him take to a tree, he's our
bear; but if he takes to the water and swims to the mainland, we
shall lose him. We don't care for that, however. He'll be sure to
come back, and when he does he'll find a trap waiting for him. We'll
see as much sport in catching him alive as we would in shooting him.
Hunt 'em up, there!" he added, waving his hand along the path.
The hounds, baying fierce and loud at every jump, went tearing
through the cane, followed by the boys, who moved in single file, Don
leading the way. A very few minutes sufficed to bring them to the
cleared spot in which Godfrey's camp was located, and there they
found the hounds running about showing every sign of anger and
excitement.
"They're on a warm trail," said Don, looking first into each corner
of the cleared space and then up into the trees over his head. "The
game has just left here. This is somebody's old camp, and the bear
has taken possession of it. No doubt he slept in that shanty. Hunt
'em up, there!"
The hounds followed Godfrey's trail through the camp, and diving into
the cane on the opposite side were quickly out of sight. The boys
followed, and presently stood panting and almost breathless beside
the drift-wood where the hounds were running about close to the
water's edge, now and then looking toward the opposite shore and
baying loudly. But Godfrey was safely out of their reach. Seizing the
opportunity when the hunters and dogs were hidden from view in the
cane, he stepped into the water and struck out for the mainland. He
had hardly time to climb the bank and conceal himself in the bushes
before Don's hounds were running about on the very spot where he had
been hidden but a few minutes before. Why was it that the hounds
followed his trail as they would have followed that of a bear or
deer? Simply because they scented him before they reached the island,
and because Godfrey took so much pains to keep out of their way. Had
he stood out in plain view while the boat was approaching, the hounds
would have paid no attention to him.
"Well, he's gone," said Bert, and the deep sigh that escaped his lips
as he uttered the words would have led one to believe that he was
glad of it, "and now comes the hard work. It's an all-day's job to
build that trap."
"It would be if we had to cut down the trees and trim off the
branches," replied David; "but there is some timber in this
drift-wood that will answer our purpose as well as any we could get
ourselves. Where are you going to build the trap, Don?"
"In there where his den is would be the best place, wouldn't it? Now
let's go after the axes; and while you and Bert are cutting the logs,
I'll unload the boat and open a road through the cane, so that we can
haul our timber in without any difficulty."
The work being thus divided rapid progress was made. By the time Don
had unloaded the boat and cut a path leading from Godfrey's camp to
the upper end of the island, Bert and David had selected and notched
all the logs that were needed for the trap. Then a stout rope, which
Don had been thoughtful enough to put into the boat, was brought into
requisition, and the work of hauling in the logs began. As fast as
they were placed in position, Don fastened them down with the pins he
and his brother had made the night before, and when lunch time came,
a neat log cabin about six feet square was standing in front of
Godfrey's lean-to. With a little "chinking" and the addition of a
door and perhaps a window, it would have made a much more comfortable
place of abode than the miserable bark structure which Godfrey had so
long occupied.
Their hard work had given the boys glorious appetites, and they did
full justice to the good things Mrs. Gordon had put up for them. Don
said their lunch might have been much improved by the addition of one
of the ducks Bert had shot that morning, but their time was much too
precious to be wasted in cooking. The hardest part of their task was
yet to be done, and that was to build a movable roof for their cabin.
Don, who had received explicit instructions from his father the night
before, superintended this work, and by the middle of the afternoon
the trap was completed and set, ready for the bear's reception.
It looked, as we have said, like a little log cabin with a flat roof.
One end of the roof rested on the rear wall of the trap, while the
other was raised in the air, leaving an opening sufficiently large to
admit of the entrance of any bear that was likely to come that way.
The roof was held in this position by a stout lever, which rested
across the limb of a convenient tree. A rope led from the other end
of the lever, down through a hole in the roof, to the trigger, to
which the bait--an ear of corn--was attached. The bear was expected
to crawl through the opening and seize the ear of corn; and in so
doing, he would spring the trigger, release the lever and the roof
would fall down and fasten him in the pen. When all the finishing
touches had been put on, the boys leaned on their axes and admired
their work.