BLUFF MISSES SOMETHING
"Look out there!" shouted one of the cowboys.
"Run, boys!" exclaimed Frank as he started to turn his pony around so as
to get beyond reach of the rapidly advancing bear.
He had just succeeded in doing this, and even started to gallop away,
when he saw a sight that almost froze the blood in his veins.
Jerry had, of course, intended doing a similar vamoosing stunt. It
happened, however, that his horse was more frightened than those of the
others. When he jerked at the bridle the beast whirled with such a
vicious fling that the boy, totally unprepared for such a move, and
unable to get the grip with his knees that a cowboy always secures, went
toppling over his head.
Frank, looking over his shoulder as he was borne rapidly away by his own
alarmed steed, saw Jerry scramble to his knees. At any rate, he thought
with relief, the other had escaped a broken neck in his ugly tumble.
Still, with that enraged grizzly bearing swiftly down upon him, in
spite of the one rope that still held taut, the position of poor Jerry
was not the most pleasant in the world.
Frank's first and only inspiration was to turn his horse around and rush
back to the assistance of his chum. It never occurred to him that being
without his own rifle, he would only be adding to the trouble by
offering Bruin a double sacrifice.
His pony, however, offered serious objections to facing that roaring
hurricane of a beast. Despite Frank's most strenuous efforts, he could
only twist the animal's head around, but not a step would the frightened
beast approach. Dancing there, he snorted his distrust and alarm.
But Frank plucked up new hope. He at the same time saw something else
that gave another aspect to the case. Jerry was not to be left alone to
his fate.
"Hurrah for Mr. Mabie!"
In his excitement Frank let out this shout. It was caused by seeing the
ranchman leap from the back of his own horse and rapidly run back toward
the spot where Jerry crouched, apparently too winded to get to his feet
and try flight.
Now Mr. Mabie had reached the boy, and the barrier of his heavy
repeating rifle would be between Jerry and the grizzly. Frank expected
to see the stockman drop on one knee and take aim at the bear, now very
close to the two dismounted ones. Nothing of the kind occurred. On the
contrary, he saw Mr. Mabie thrust the rifle into the hands of the boy,
who seemed to seize it eagerly.
Jerry had declined to shoot the grizzly when the beast was held by a
cordon of riatas. The conditions were now considerably altered, for the
huge animal was rapidly bearing down upon him, with the fire of
destruction in his small, blazing eyes. It was a case of bringing his
advance to a speedy stop, or suffering the consequences.
Frank's heart thrilled with pride as he saw his chum throw the rifle up
to his shoulder and glance along the glistening barrel. Mr. Mabie had
shown wonderful confidence in the boy's nerve to thus place the solution
of the problem in Jerry's hands.
Holding his breath, as he still tugged at the mouth of his refractory
mount, Frank saw the smoke shoot out from the muzzle of the gun as the
report sounded.
"Whoop! He's down!" shrieked a cowboy curveting near by.
"Take care! He's coming again, Jerry!" shouted Frank.
The bear had rolled over at the shot, but being one of the toughest
animals in the world, he had immediately gained his feet again, and was
once more advancing.
But Jerry knew what to do, even though he had never met quarry of this
caliber before. He pumped another cartridge into the chamber,
deliberately took aim, with apparently little show of excitement, and
fired again.
Once more the grizzly stumbled and fell. When he tried to get up again
he did not seem equal to the effort.
Mr. Mabie was shaking the hand of the young Nimrod with great
enthusiasm. Perhaps he had purposely tried the nerve of Jerry, to find
out what manner of boys these were, of whom old Jesse Wilcox spoke so
well.
Now that the monster was dead, the ponies consented to draw somewhat
closer; but the boys had to dismount, and hand over their steeds to a
cowman when they wished to reach the spot where the victim of the hunt
lay.
Will, with his camera, was, of course, in evidence.
"I wouldn't have missed that for a cookie!" he declared. "And if that
frightened horse had only allowed me to take a crack at the time the old
hermit toppled over, I'd be ever so much happier."
Frank, remembering how the other had been forced to clasp his arms
around the neck of his frantic steed at the time, smiled at the
impossibility of such a thing coming about.
"Give us a grip of your paw, old fellow!" cried Bluff, rushing up,
brimming over with enthusiasm and admiration. "I'll sure never forget
that sight! And he did the Rod, Gun and Camera Club proud when he used
your weapon, didn't he, Mr. Mabie?"
"I knew he would," was the quiet remark of the stockman; and Frank
understood that the other had been forming a favorable opinion of the
chums from the minute he saw them come off the train.
"Would you like that skin to remember the event by, Jerry?" Mr. Mabie
asked, a little later, while they were watching the cowboys remove the
hide.
"It would give my mother a cold chill to see it, if she ever heard the
story; but then we have a clubroom over our boathouse, and I guess it
would look nice there. So, since you are so kind as to offer it, I'll
say yes, Mr. Mabie."
"Well, I should remark that we'd never forgive you if you let that
chance slip. It looks as though our big-game trip might pan out
something worth while, after all," observed Bluff.
"You do everything on a big scale out here in the Northwest, sir. The
fields of wheat are tremendous, the distances immense, the mountains
higher than any in the East, by long odds; and the game the biggest in
the whole country," remarked Frank.
"And in this bracing air we hope to raise the finest crop of boys in the
world. But let's return to the house, lads. It's time we had a bite, for
I'm sure your appetites must be sharpened by this little adventure."
The ranchman cast many a secret admiring glance toward Jerry as they
rode home. He fell back with Frank on purpose to speak his mind, while
the other three galloped on ahead, laughing and shouting, as boys off on
a vacation always do.
"I like that chap, Jerry," he remarked earnestly. "He's a lad after my
own heart. What he said about not wanting to shoot defenceless game gave
me a wrench, for we cherish notions along that same line up here in the
wilderness. Of course, the grizzly, as I said, does not come under that
law, for he's too terrible a customer to be given much rope."
"Sometimes he takes his own rope," laughed Frank, secretly delighted to
hear this honest praise of his chum.
"Which is quite true for you, Frank. That cowboy will not soon get over
the humiliation of having his lariat give way. He feels very sore about
it now," remarked the stockman, casting a side look toward where a
couple of his herders were wrangling over something as they brought up
the rear.
"I'm so glad you gave Jerry that chance. He's the most enthusiastic
sportsman I ever met, and so honorable in his dealings with the wearers
of fin, fur and feather. No danger of the woods ever being depopulated
while he's around," Frank said, with his customary generous view of
anything that concerned his chums.
"It was what you may call an inspiration. My first idea, of course, was
to cover the boy and face the bear. I did not doubt my own ability to
down him, but somehow I was tempted to take chances with the lad. I'm
glad now I did it. He stood the racket like a veteran. I'd be a happy
man if I'd only been left a boy like your chum for my own."
The ranchman spurred on ahead at this, and Frank made no effort to
overtake him, for he felt sure he had seen tears glistening in the
other's eyes, and could appreciate his feelings, for the stockman's only
child, a boy, at that, lay with the mother in the ranch cemetery.
Breakfast was ready for them, and what a glorious meal the boys made!
Just as Mr. Mabie had said, they proved as hungry as wolves. That clear
mountain air seemed to tone them up after their long railway journey,
and Frank laughingly declared their host had better send away for a new
stock of provisions if he expected to keep them satisfied.
Bluff was the first to leave the table. Frank had seen him eating
hurriedly toward the close of the meal. He knew without being told what
ailed his comrade.
"He'll never be happy until he gets it, fellows!" sang out Jerry, who,
of course, had also noticed the hurried departure of the anxious one.
They could hear Bluff tossing things around hurriedly in the other room,
where they expected to bunk, and to which the big trunk had been finally
carried.
Ten minutes later, Frank, remembering that a great silence had fallen
over the neighboring apartment, stole softly to the door and looked in.
He saw a picture of abject dejection there--Bluff sitting on the floor,
in the midst of piles of garments, clothes bags, and all manner of
things, frowning and shaking his head, as if he had lost his last
friend.
"What's the matter?" demanded Frank, drawing nearer.
"Matter enough," answered the disconsolate one, sighing heavily. "Why,
after all my trouble and everything, I've gone and left that knife at
home, and now my whole trip is going to be spoiled for me. I just seemed
to feel that something was bound to happen to upset my calculations. I
might as well go back, that's what," said Bluff, gritting his teeth in
his spasm of disgust.