FINDING OUT HOW BUMPUS DID IT.
"Well, what d'ye think of that?" Giraffe demanded, as, with his comrades,
he presently hurried forward to examine the dead bear.
"I said Bumpus could do it, didn't I?" questioned Step Hen. "Why, with
the great run of luck he's camping alongside now, that pard of ours could
go into the lion and elephant country of Africa, and knock over more old
tuskers and yellow manes than you could shake a stick at."
"But how d'ye know he did this?" asked Giraffe, as a new doubt assailed
him.
"Tell me who else could?" demanded the other.
"Oh! I'm not sayin' they did; don't think that," Giraffe went on; "but we
happen to know there are a couple of men hanging around this section of
the country."
"Meaning Hank and Pierre, of course?"
"Yes, they're the dodgers. Now, you see, they just might have come up
here, found the bear holdin' Bumpus up in a tree, and took a notion to
knock the old mountain bear silly, just so they could look our chum over,
and take all he had."
Step Hen was unable to hazard a reply to this, and so he appealed to
those who ought to be able to decide.
"How about that, Thad, Allan?"
Both shook their heads in the negative.
"Give Bumpus all the credit of downing this bear," Thad remarked.
"There are lots of things that go to prove it," said Allan. "Look here,
and I'll show you. See, here's where he knelt to fire, first of all, and
I want you to notice what a dandy tree for climbing Bumpus picked out,
just alongside."
"And when he'd rammed in both charges, only to see the bear coming full
tilt after him, like a house afire, Bumpus swung up in the tree--is that
it, Allan?" and Giraffe looked wise as he said this.
"Just what he did," Allan went on to say. "I reckon he had a stout cord
fixed on his gun, and could slip one arm through this, so that the Marlin
went up when he did, all right."
"Ain't he the cute one, though?" Step Hen murmured, in admiration.
"Well, you can see how the bear clawed the tree," continued Allan, "but
he wasn't able to get up. Grizzlies are poor climbers anyway, and this
fellow must have been handicapped by that injured hind leg."
"And then Bumpus, he opened on him, didn't he?" Giraffe cried.
"Well, I guess that's what he did," laughed Thad. "I can count _twelve_
empty shells here under the tree. Two Bumpus used at long range, but all
the rest he must have fired point-blank, with the bear not more than five
or ten feet away from the muzzle of his gun."
"How d'ye tell that?" asked Giraffe.
"Why, here, and here you can see the hair on the bear looks singed around
a wound. That proves the gun was only a few feet away. And notice too,
boys, nearly every shot took effect either in the breast or back of the
bear. The one that finished him was this in the ear. It penetrated his
brain."
Giraffe gave one of his whistles, and then remarked:
"Glory! but there must have been a hot time around here, all right. I can
just imagine I see Bumpus perched up in that crotch, and blazing away as
fast as he could load. What a circus it was, and such great luck. Why,
that feller could grab the first prize in the Havana lottery if he ever
wanted to go down to Cuba and take a chance. He can sure do anything!"
"He got his bear, bless his dear old heart," laughed Step Hen.
"Yes, and just like he did with the bob-cat; only this time, he hacked
off the claws from all four feet. Must mean to have 'em made into a war
necklace, Indian fashion," observed Allan.
"Looks some like a slaughter-house around here," Giraffe said. "The bear
bled from every wound. They told us a grizzly could stand any amount of
lead, and now I believe it. Why, at that close range, them buckshot in
his gun just tore in like a great big fifty-eight slug. Oh! what a sight,
if Davy had only been here with his snapshot box."
"But I can see that Hank and Pierre came right along in," observed Step
Hen.
"Yes, and looked around, just like we're doing now," Allan remarked.
"I'm some surprised that they didn't capture the skin of the bear," the
other went on. "Bumpus couldn't take it off, because that's one thing he
hasn't learned--yet. But surely Hank or Pierre must be old trappers
enough for that."
But Allan shook his head.
"They looked at it, and quickly decided it wasn't worth taking," he said.
"First place, Bumpus had hacked all the fierce claws off, and they're the
best part of a grizzly pelt, I'm told. Then our chum had, as you can see,
just about riddled the hide; shot holes through every which way. That's
probably why they didn't bother trying to take the skin off the bear."
"But--did they keep on after Bumpus?" asked Giraffe.
"I'm sorry to say they did," admitted Allan, who with his customary
alertness had been looking around, and taking note of things.
"That means, we will be on the move again," Giraffe declared.
"Can't be getting away any too soon to suit me," Step Hen said.
"The things I'm sorry about are these," remarked Thad. "First, it's
getting along in the afternoon now, and our chances of overtaking either
the men or Bumpus before darkness comes on are mighty small, I'm afraid.
You see they've got quite a few hours' advantage over us."
"Well, why not make a torch or so, and keep moving along, even after
night does set in," suggested Giraffe, quickly, for his mind was always
inclining toward fire in some shape or style.
"Now, that may not be such a bad idea at all, Giraffe," Thad promptly
declared. "And I'm glad you mentioned it. If we're not too leg-weary
after we've eaten, and rested an hour or two, we might try that scheme."
"If it didn't do anything else," put in Allan, "it would surely cut down
the big lead they've got on us, and we might be close enough when we
started at dawn again, to get Bumpus with the call of the Silver Fox
Patrol."
"Better than that, even," said Thad, "if we kept moving right along
to-night who knows but what we might have the luck to glimpse a
camp-fire. Remember how we did that before, and thought to surprise our
chum; when it turned out the other way, and we got all the surprise from
Hank and Pierre?"
"Whose fire would this be, d'ye think--Bumpus', or Hank's?" asked
Giraffe.
"Perhaps both," was the significant reply Thad made. "For unless they've
changed their minds, and concluded not to meddle with a tenderfoot scout
who was able to kill a full grown grizzly all by himself, I take it that
before now Bumpus and the timber cruisers have joined forces."
"Like the lion and the lamb lying down together without the least bit of
trouble, because the lamb was _inside_ the lion," remarked Giraffe,
drily.
"Yes, the chances are that they've bulldozed our chum, and made him wait
upon them like a slave, cook their meals for them; and perhaps they will
tie him up in camp to-night, so he won't have a chance to run away."
Step Hen fairly gnashed his teeth while drawing this agonizing mental
picture of the further troubles of Bumpus. And even those who had the
most faith in the fat scout's newly aroused ability to think, and take
care of himself, could hardly see how the awkward lad might come out of
such an encounter as this with any degree of credit.
Being up against two husky and unprincipled men, who had brains with
which to plot and scheme, was an entirely different proposition from
meeting animals that acted only from instinct, and often very unwisely.
"But see here, Thad," exclaimed Step Hen, "you said a while ago there
were two reasons for you feeling sorry, and the first was that it was
getting late, and we might have to camp soon. What was the other?"
"Why," the patrol leader continued; "knowing that these hard characters
are abroad, between us and Bumpus, even if they haven't made a prisoner
of our chum, you see, we're kept from doing any more shouting out loud."
"Just why?" asked the other, dubiously.
"It would only advertise our presence to the pair, and they could lay a
trap to snare us. Perhaps they'd make Bumpus lure us on, or even imitate
his voice and catch us napping. As it is now," Thad went on, "so far as
we know, they don't even suspect that we're around. If we can keep them
from knowing right along, our job's going to be all the easier."
"You're right, Thad," said Allan, emphatically.
And even the other two could see the force of his reasoning.
There was nothing to do, therefore, but keep steadily along, trusting to
their perseverance to bring them a reward in the end. None of them dared
to even dream that the astonishing good luck that had followed Bumpus
ever since he found himself lost in the big timber, would not continue
with him to the end.
The best they could figure on was that if their chum had fallen into the
hands of the two husky timber spies, they would be tired enough to go
into camp soon after, and make the boy do all the work of getting supper.
And while they thus dallied, dreaming of no danger, the four scouts might
be advancing steadily, rod after rod, making use of a rude torch in order
to see the trail, and all the while drawing nearer the crisis.
"You don't think they'd be apt to hurt Bumpus, do you, Thad?" the
war-like Step Hen asked, for the third time, as they continued to press
on.
"Not seriously," replied the scoutmaster. "We know they are bullies on
the face of it, but really cowards at heart. If they hadn't been that,
d'ye suppose for one minute they would ever have bombarded us while we
slept, as they thought, with great rocks, any one of which might have
broken our arms or legs? And if they've got hold of Bumpus, just because
he's a scout, and our friend, they'd likely kick him around a lot, and
make him knuckle down to them; but I hardly believe they'd hurt him
badly. But no matter what they do, they've got to settle with Bumpus'
chums, sooner or later."