A FIGHT WITH A BEAR
The night was dark and cloudy and there was not a star in sight.
However, it was possible to discover outlines at a near distance. As
Ben cast a startled glance at a great bushy object not twenty feet
away, growling savagely and moving directly towards them, he realized
that there was some foundation to his companion’s startling statement.
“Quick, this way. Climb up, I say,” shouted Bob, his rapid run
landing them directly up against a large tree.
“You first, Bob.”
“Me last. Climb, I tell you!” screamed Bob. “Whew! that was close.”
Ben had grasped at a low limb of the tree. He was conscious that Bob
clambered up directly after him, but not so readily.
“That was just in time,” panted Bob, as both got to a higher limb of
the tree. “Got the heel of my shoe, that’s all.”
Below, two baneful orbs of flickering radiance glowered up at them.
The bear growled fiercely and began scratching at the hard bark of
the tree.
It was a benumbing realization to the two boys to come direct from a
safe civilization within less than twenty-four hours into a district
infested with savage wild beasts.
“He’s climbing!” cried Bob.
“We must go higher.”
“Then so will he.”
“We have no firearms.”
“No,” replied the doughty Bob, “but there’s a good stout hammer in
the bag, and I’m going to see what I can do with it. Here’s a candle,
light it. They say a light keeps bears at bay.”
“It doesn’t this one,” reported Ben a minute later.
“That’s so. Keep it going so I can see, though, but be ready to climb
if I don’t make it.”
The head of the hammer Bob was wielding was flat and heavy. Its
reverse end ran to quite a point. He swung slightly down from the
limb they occupied. As the bear got four feet up the tree, the
dauntless Bob reached out.
The hammer landed on one forepaw of the bear. The animal growled and
drew the paw away as if easing it from the pain. Bob swung lower. He
made a terrific swoop with his only weapon.
“Something cracked!” he shouted in encouraging tones. “It told, Ben.
Down he goes.”
The head of the hammer had landed against the snarling mouth of the
bear. Judging from the sound, the blow had smashed one or two of his
molars. Dropped to the trunk of the tree, bruin now rubbed his face
with his paws in an angry growling way, and the light of the candle
showed blood dripping from the ponderous jaws of the animal.
“He won’t venture up again, I reckon,” remarked Bob.
“No, but he seems settled down there for the night.”
“Well, we’ll have to stay up here all night,” responded Bob.
The bear now lay flat on the ground at the base of the tree, his eyes
fixed obliquely towards his treed enemies. There was no doubt that
the angry animal had taken up the patient position of a watcher and
waiter.
“I say,” observed Ben, after a moment’s cogitation, “I have an idea,
if we want to drive the bear away.”
“Well, he isn’t very pleasant company to have around.”
“Have you any of ignition oil in the bag?”
“Yes, two cans of it,” reported Bob, inspecting the contents of the
bag.
“Give me one. That’s it. Now, you hold the candle and get out a coil
of wire.”
“What’s the stunt.”
“You will see. It may not work.”
Ben unscrewed the top of the can of highly inflammable oil. Then,
poising just right, he leaned over and let its contents drop upon the
broad extended body of the bear.
The animal sniffed and turned its head to one side as the pungent
odor of the oil assailed its nostrils. It did not budge, however,
while its eyes glowered up into the tree more dangerously than ever.
“Its hide is pretty well soaked,” reported Ben, as the contents of
the can became exhausted. “Now then, attach the candle to the wire,
lower it, and——”
“Fire up. Ha! ha! Ben, quite an idea.”
The bear uttered a ferocious growl and swept the air with one paw
furiously as the candle approached. Its aim was futile, however. The
candle reached the oil-soaked hide. There was a blinding sweep of
flame.
In one second the great animal was swept by a brilliant wave of fire.
It was only a surface skim, but, scared to death, the bear arose with
magical swiftness, uttered a piercing roar, made for the river bank,
took a header, and the boys heard a tremendous splash in the water
twenty feet below.
“I don’t think his bearship will trouble us any further,” remarked
Bob, preparing to descend from the tree.
“No,” replied Ben, “but some other bear or animal may. I suggest
that we climb to that big crotch up yonder. It looks roomy and
comfortable. We can only wander around aimlessly in the darkness.
We’ll take a good rest, and start out in earnest to find out where we
are as soon as daylight comes.”
They found the upper tree crotch roomy enough to lie in on a slant.
They decided on alternate hour watches, and had a good lunch before
they began the arrangement for passing the night.
“How is the commissary department, Bob?” inquired Ben, as they
descended to the ground after daylight.
“Enough to last a whole day, I should think,” replied Bob.
They had an ample breakfast. Then there was some indecision as to
their immediate progress.
“We know about where the _Dart_ is,” said Bob. “The river is a
kind of a landmark. I suggest that we try to find some houses or
settlement.”
“That’s south,” said Ben, pointing, after consulting a small compass
he carried with him. “Suppose we start in that direction.”
“I’m agreeable,” assented his lively comrade. “We’re bound to land
somewhere.”
The two youths were in fine spirit, and chatted animatedly until
noon. There was so much to think of—the successful trip, the return
home, the possible prize. A shower came up, and in seeking shelter
they wandered away from the river. They could not locate it again
after a two hours’ search, and night came on, finding them in a deep
gully shut in by high frowning walls of rock.
Ben, somewhat subdued, set about arranging some boulders to protect
the opening of a cave-like depression where they had decided to spend
the night.
“I say, Ben,” observed Bob, “there’s just about two more meals left
in the bag—light ones, too.”
“Oh, well, this won’t last,” declared Ben hopefully. “We found some
berries and nuts to-day, and maybe with grubbing we might discover
something else that would tide us over.”
“Yes, that’s so,” assented Bob, but not at all enthusiastically. “It
don’t change a pretty serious situation, though.”
“How is that?”
“Well, we’re in a howling wilderness, aren’t we?”
“It’s the wilderness all right,” assented Ben.
“And we face two sure conclusions,” went on Bob Dallow, “we’ve lost
the _Dart_ and can’t find it, and we’re lost ourselves.”