THE GRIZZLY AT BAY
"Boys, do you want to see some fun?" called the ranchman as he came up.
"Always ready for that sort of thing, sir. What's going on?" asked
Frank.
"An old friend of ours, whom we call 'Mountain Charlie,' has broken
bounds at last, and is even now trying to drag one of my best yearlings
off to the mountain canyon where he has his den," replied the other.
"Mountain Charlie?" repeated Frank, mystified.
"And has a den in the mountains, too! What sort of a beast is that? Or
can it be a wild man?" asked Bluff.
The ranchman laughed heartily.
"I forgot you were tenderfeet, boys. We call a grizzly by that name out
here. This fellow we have known for some time. Hunting him has never
proven a profitable business, and, as a rule, he has never before come
so far out in the open; but hunger tempted the old chap, and the man who
galloped in told me he was even then dragging the yearling he had killed
in the direction of the hills."
"Oh! if we could only get there in time to see them shoot him!"
exclaimed Will, hitching his camera a little closer to his body.
"That's just what you're going to see. I sent word that he was not to be
hurt until we arrived. Horses are being hitched up for us all. I suppose
you can ride, boys?" inquired the owner of the ranch.
"To a certain extent, though I suppose your cowboys will think us pretty
punky at it," answered Jerry.
"But we mean to learn everything we can while here," piped up Bluff
earnestly.
"Good for you! These horses are only old plugs, however, so there's no
fear of them running away with you; and here they come."
Several cowboys came toward them, each leading a number of horses. Frank
thought that for "old plugs," the four intended for himself and chums
possessed considerable of the fire that had animated them in other
years.
"Up you go, boys. Take your pick. Then we're off."
Each seized upon the nearest animal, and, making use of the stirrup,
threw himself into the saddle. As Jerry had said, all of them had
frequently ridden at home, and indeed considered that they knew as much
about a saddle as the average boy of the East; but that amounted to very
little out here, where every one almost lived upon the back of a
broncho.
"Wow! But this is going some!" said Jerry as the whole group dashed
madly up the valley.
"I only hope I don't lose my camera in the rush," came from Will, who
was having troubles of his own in the rear.
"Look ahead, fellows! You can see what's going on, now!" called Frank,
who kept alongside the ranchman in the lead.
"Why, there's the bear, as sure as you live!" Bluff gasped.
"But what's he trying to do? First he rushes one way, and then turns
around to make a bolt at the other side. He must be getting rattled."
"Don't you see, Jerry, they've got him lassoed? He wants to tackle any
one of those three cowboys, but he just can't, with as many ropes
pulling him in three directions."
"Talk to me about that, will you, Frank!" cried Jerry. "I never expected
to see a grizzly bear held up in a rope like a steer. Look at the game
little ponies on their haunches, and holding like fun. They seem
somewhat scared, too, pard. Between you and me, I don't blame 'em a bit.
I'd hate to think that big beast was aiming to get a grip on me."
It was just as Jerry said. The cowboys had headed the grizzly off so
that he was unable to gain the safety of the wild mountain gorges.
Doubtless he had been loth to leave his prey at the approach of the
riders, and this had contributed to his final undoing.
One after another three of them had dropped their ropes over the head of
the grizzly as he reared himself on his hind legs. The lariats stretched
like piano wires under the strain, and as the cowboys had taken up
positions in a sort of triangle they could keep the bear from making any
sort of rush.
"Watch and see the fun," said Mr. Mabie, who had made sure to fetch his
rifle along when coming from the ranch house; but he did not seem in any
hurry to utilize the same.
Will, of course, immediately made good use of his camera.
Meanwhile, wilder grew the exertions of the trapped grizzly. He was
snarling with rage. The foam gathered about his mouth, and Frank
shuddered as he saw the cruel teeth, not to speak of the long, deadly
and poisonous claws.
"Hey, Bluff! If you only had that gentle little knife of yours handy,
now would be a fine chance to rush in and have a tussle with that meek
grizzly! You know you told us all just how you meant to slay the
jabbercock with one straight blow."
Bluff did not make any verbal reply to this unkind thrust on the part of
Jerry, but Frank, looking at him, saw that his face was deadly pale, and
that he was staring at the terrible monster with whom the reckless
cowboys were playing as a cat does with a mouse. He knew Bluff was
feeling a chill at the thought of such a tragedy happening as his having
an encounter with a beast like that.
"What if the ropes should break?" asked Frank as the captive made a more
ferocious rush than usual, and the pony on the other side was dragged
several feet.
"Then there would be somewhat of a mix-up, and a case of every man for
himself. They'd expect me to show that I hadn't altogether forgotten my
craft in connection with handling a rifle. Once I used to be a crack
shot, but lack of experience plays hob with a man's nerves," replied
Mr. Mabie, as he sat upon his steed and played with the repeating rifle
he held.
"I see you are enjoying the situation, boys. Would one of you like to
wind him up?" and the ranchman turned to Frank.
"I don't believe I would, sir," laughed that worthy.
"How about you, Jerry?"
"I've often dreamed of shooting such game, but excuse me, Mr. Mabie, it
would be too much like the butcher business to please me," observed the
other.
At this the stockman laughed.
"Oh, I can understand that principle of honor in a true sportsman, my
lad, and I must say it does you credit; but when you come to know
grizzlies better, and appreciate their terrible strength, you'll agree
with the rest of us that a man has to forget such things when he gets a
chance to puncture the hide of so fierce a monster as this old rogue. He
could kill a horse with a single blow, or tear one into shreds with
those claws. If I can get my mount to go a little closer, I'll try to
wind him up with a single ball, but it's difficult to shoot from the
back of a nervous pony."
He began to speak to his steed, which was striking the turf with its
hoofs, and champing at the bit, as if terrified at such close proximity
to, an animal so greatly to be dreaded.
Then suddenly there was a wild shout from the cowboys, and Frank,
looking, saw one of them whirling his horse in wild flight, and dashing
toward the group. He seemed to guess instinctively what had
happened--the rope of the opposite rider must have broken under the
tremendous strain. This really left the grizzly free, and, filled with
mad rage, he was galloping straight toward them!