IN A BEAR'S HOLLOW
Jerry landed with a crash that almost shook the breath from his body.
Realizing the need of haste in getting upon his feet, he scrambled erect.
He had maintained that frenzied clutch upon his gun, as if believing that
it was his best and only friend in this emergency.
One thing helped him. The big yellow hound had been startled, first by
the crash of the gun so close to his head, and then again by the rapid
downward plunge of the human figure.
Perhaps some dim recollection of former beatings at the hands of some
severe master may also have temporarily demoralized the brute.
At any rate Jerry was given just about five seconds to turn the corner,
and thus place the tree between himself and his enemy.
Then the dog bounded forward, and a warm chase began around that same
tree, with Jerry doing his prettiest to keep beyond reach of those
gleaming fangs that pressed closely in his rear.
In this he managed fairly well, but after he had pranced around that tree
quite a dozen times he made the alarming discovery that he was rapidly
being winded. His canine adversary, on the other hand, appeared to be as
fresh as ever.
Unless something occurred to assist him, it began to look very much as
though he might trip after growing dizzy, and the big yellow brute
pounce upon him.
Then a sudden thought came into his mind. It was like an inspiration,
and made Jerry laugh right out. Why, of course his gun, what was he
gripping it all this time so desperately for if not because he believed
it worth while.
He tried to remember whether he had fired one shot or two after reloading
it. So confused had he become with all this turning round and round that
he could not be absolutely sure. But there was nothing for him to do but
take chances.
He felt to see if one of the hammers might be up, and found the left one
drawn back. That seemed promising, for if he had fired both barrels the
hammers must naturally be down.
It might be only imagination, but he believed he could actually feel the
hot breath of the pursuing beast on his legs as he twisted around that
tree so awkwardly. With a prayer in his heart, though his lips were
mute, he suddenly whirled, thrust out the gun, and pulled the trigger.
Fortune was certainly with him that day. The dog viciously seized hold of
the gun barrel in his teeth; and it was just at this instant that Jerry
pressed the trigger.
He saw the big beast swirl half-way around. Then he fell in a
quivering heap.
"Hurrah!"
It was but a pitiful shout poor Jerry gave, for he was quite out of
breath. He, too, fell down in a heap close to the yellow form of his
enemy; but instinctively his hands worked, trying to place his faithful
gun in readiness for further work.
It was not needed.
Besides the big yellow leader of the wild pack, he presently found a
second brute stone dead; and had the pleasure of dispatching both the
others shortly after.
"Might as well make a clean sweep of it," he said, with a feeling of
having accomplished something worth while; for Jesse had told him these
roving dogs were just as destructive to sheep and other domestic animals
as so many timber wolves would have been.
Perhaps the farmers of the community might feel like voting Jerry thanks
for his good service of that day. And not knowing whether he could find
the place again he proceeded to cut off the four caudal appendages, "to
embellish his tale," as Frank later on declared with a laugh.
"Guess I've had quite enough sport for to-day," Jerry remarked, as he
bent over the mutilated deer; "there's quite as much meat here as I can
carry home. In fact, I've a good mind to hang most of it up out of reach
of wild animals. We could come for it another time. From the looks of the
sky that storm Jesse spoke about must be coming right along."
So he determined to make haste. While something of a novice at the art of
cutting up a deer, he had a general inkling as to how it should be done.
Accordingly, after half an hour's work he managed to swing the better
part of the meat, fastened up in the skin, to a limb that he made sure
was sound.
"Now for home with my trophies. Say, perhaps the boys won't open their
eyes when I show these four tails, and get Toby to cook some of _my_
venison! This has been a red letter day in my calendar. What was
that--thunder, I do believe. Perhaps--"
Jerry did not even wait to finish his sentence, but started off on a
lope.
But the gloom under the heavy timber increased. He found difficulty in
telling the points of the compass. And finally it became absolutely
impossible for him to make more than a half-way decent guess as to the
quarter where the camp in all probability lay.
"I suppose I'm just about lost," he at length reluctantly admitted.
Still, Jerry was not one to be easily daunted. He had been in situations
before now that called for a show of manliness and courage, and rather
prided himself on being equal to any such occasion.
The thunder was booming heavily, and the rain ready to descend. He
believed he could hear a distant roaring. It might be wind tearing
through the forest, or a heavy fall of rain, perhaps both. At any rate it
would mark the breaking of the storm.
"Better be finding that hollow tree I spoke to Jesse about," he
concluded.
Once again luck favored the lad. Not thirty paces away he discovered what
seemed to be a big stump, about twelve feet or more in height. It had an
opening at the bottom, large enough for him to crawl through; indeed, to
his mind, it was there especially for the very use he intended to put it.
Running forward just as the rain began to rattle down all around him,
Jerry proceeded to crawl through the aperture. He found the interior
amply large enough to give him the needed shelter. What was better, the
opening happened to be on the leeward side, so that the driving rain
could not find entrance.
"This is what I call a bully fit. Talk to me about your cyclone cellars,
what could beat such a cozy den as this? I'm as snug as a bug in a rug.
Four wild dogs and my first deer, all in one day. I guess that's my
top-notch record, all right. Let her storm all she wants, so long as the
lightning doesn't take a notion to strike this blessed old stump," he was
saying as he mentally shook hands with himself over the day's
achievements.
After a long time, hours it seemed to Jerry, during a temporary lull in
the howling of the gale, he ventured to peep forth.
Everything was pitch black around, save when the lightning zigzagged
through space, and lighted up all creation with its electric torch.
"Looks like an all-night stand for Jerry. There comes that wind tearing
things loose again. Wow! it was a big tree went down that time! Hope none
of them take a notion to knock my poor old stump flat, or I'd be squashed
into a pancake."
Like many other people, Jerry had a habit of talking to himself under
stress of excitement Perhaps he believed that in this way he bolstered up
his courage, just as some men whistle when they find themselves trembling
in the face of some uncanny peril.
And there he crouched while the gale blew with renewed violence, and the
night wore slowly on. Several times there came a lull, and he began to
hope the worst had passed; when once again the wind would swoop down, as
though loth to give up its riotous dominion over the stricken forest.
Never had such a storm been heard of in October; even the first gale,
which had demolished the roof of the Academy, and brought about this two
weeks' vacation for the boys, had not equaled this, coming from another
quarter as it did.
Jerry had one bad scare.
He had blocked up the entrance as best he could with what stray bits of
wood he found around. Suddenly he felt his barrier moving, and realized
that some wild animal was nosing around, trying to force an entrance
for shelter.
It must, after all, be the lair of a bear which he had found. Was this
most remarkable day in all his experience to be wound up with an
encounter that might dwarf the other into insignificance?
Jerry gave a shout. At the same time he seized upon his gun, and fired
one barrel squarely through the opening. He thought he heard a loud
"woof," but after that there was no further molestation.
But, nevertheless, he lay there wide-awake, and on his guard. Should Mr.
Bear pluck up courage enough to return, he meant to be ready to give him
a warm reception.
Time passed, and he believed the storm was really diminishing in fury. It
was certainly time, for from the various crashes Jerry believed
considerable timber must have gone to the ground.
How thankful he should be to have escaped as well as he had. Why, the
mere fact that he was lost did not cut any figure in the matter when so
many more terrible things might have happened to him.
There was really no sense of him leaving his snug retreat until dawn
came, for he could not make his way in the storm-wrecked timber with any
hope of success.
Again he poked his way out to take an observation. Perhaps he was
wondering if his shot could have killed the bear; but no sign of such
met his strained eyesight when the next flash of lightning came.
But while he was thus trying to pierce the gloom around him, he heard
a sound that thrilled him through and through--the sound of a human
voice calling.
"Help, oh! help!" it came wailing through the night.