THE BEARS OF BLUE RIVER
[Illustration: The MM Co.]
[Illustration: “Balser was more fortunate in his aim, and gave the bear
a mortal wound.”]
The
Bears of Blue River
BY
CHARLES MAJOR
AUTHOR OF “WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER,” ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. B. FROST AND OTHERS_
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1908
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1900, 1901,
BY CURTIS PUBLISHING CO. BY JOHN WANAMAKER.
COPYRIGHT, 1901,
BY CHARLES MAJOR.
First published elsewhere. Reprinted November, 1902;
March, 1904; October, 1908.
New edition September, 1906.
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
The Big Bear 3
CHAPTER II.
How Balser got a Gun 31
CHAPTER III.
Lost in a Forest 53
CHAPTER IV.
The One-eared Bear 79
CHAPTER V.
The Wolf Hunt 104
CHAPTER VI.
Borrowed Fire 140
CHAPTER VII.
The Fire Bear 171
CHAPTER VIII.
The Black Gully 190
CHAPTER IX.
On the Stroke of Nine 217
CHAPTER X.
A Castle on Brandywine 238
ILLUSTRATIONS.
“Balser was more fortunate in his aim, and gave the bear
a mortal wound” _Frontispiece_
PAGE
Bass and sunfish and big-mouthed redeye 4
“A wildcat almost as big as a cow” 14
“Little Balser noticed fresh bear tracks, and his breath
began to come quickly” 15
“Fresh bear tracks” 17
“Imagine ... his consternation when he saw upon the
bank, quietly watching him, a huge black bear” 19
“The bear had a peculiar, determined expression about
him” 21
“When the bear got within a few feet of Balser ... the
boy grew desperate with fear, and struck at the beast
with the only weapon he had—his string of fish” 25
“The bear had caught the fish, and again had climbed
upon the log” 29
“He could hear the bear growling right at his heels, and
it made him just fly” _facing_ 44
“Tige was told to go into the cave” _facing_ 48
“Each with a saucy little bear cub” _facing_ 52
“Down came Tom and Jerry from the roof” _facing_ 60
Tige and Prince swimming about the canoe _facing_ 74
“’Lordy, Balser! It’s the one-eared bear’” _facing_ 88
“’Let’s get out of here’” _facing_ 94
“Balser rushed into the fight” _facing_ 102
“Mischief! they never thought of anything else” 108
“Balser turned in time to see a great, lank, gray wolf
emerge from the water, carrying a gander by the neck” 109
“Bang! went Balser’s gun, and the wolf ... paid for his
feast with his life” 117
“Caught them by the back of the neck” 123
“The boys tied together the legs of the old wolves and
swung them over the pole ... and started home leading
the pups” 127
“These hives were called ‘gums’” 135
“The cubs went every way but the right way” _facing_ 146
“The bear rose to climb after the boy” _facing_ 160
“Liney thrust the burning torch into the bear’s face and
held it there despite its rage and growls” _facing_ 168
“’Help! help!’ came the cry” _facing_ 176
“’Now, hold up the torch, Polly’” _facing_ 204
“Polly continued slowly toward the bear” _facing_ 212
“Imagine his consternation when he recognized the forms
of Liney Fox and her brother Tom” 229
“He fell a distance of ten or twelve feet, ... and lay
half stunned” 233
En route for the castle 244
The castle on the Brandywine 252
“Balser hesitated to fire, fearing that he might kill
Tom or one of the dogs” 263
“Espied a doe and a fawn, standing upon the opposite
side of the creek” 273
I.
THE BIG BEAR.
THE BEARS OF BLUE RIVER.
CHAPTER I.
THE BIG BEAR.
Away back in the “twenties,” when Indiana was a baby state, and great
forests of tall trees and tangled underbrush darkened what are now her
bright plains and sunny hills, there stood upon the east bank of Big
Blue River, a mile or two north of the point where that stream crosses
the Michigan road, a cozy log cabin of two rooms—one front and one back.
The house faced the west, and stretching off toward the river for a
distance equal to twice the width of an ordinary street, was a
blue-grass lawn, upon which stood a dozen or more elm and sycamore
trees, with a few honey-locusts scattered here and there. Immediately at
the water’s edge was a steep slope of ten or twelve feet. Back of the
house, mile upon mile, stretched the deep dark forest, inhabited by deer
and bears, wolves and wildcats, squirrels and birds, without number.
[Illustration: BASS AND SUNFISH AND THE BIG-MOUTHED REDEYE.]
In the river the fish were so numerous that they seemed to entreat the
boys to catch them, and to take them out of their crowded quarters.
There were bass and black suckers, sunfish and catfish, to say nothing
of the sweetest of all, the big-mouthed redeye.
[Illustration]
South of the house stood a log barn, with room in it for three horses
and two cows; and enclosing this barn, together with a piece of ground,
five or six acres in extent, was a palisade fence, eight or ten feet
high, made by driving poles into the ground close together. In this
enclosure the farmer kept his stock, consisting of a few sheep and
cattle, and here also the chickens, geese, and ducks were driven at
nightfall to save them from “varmints,” as all prowling animals were
called by the settlers.
The man who had built this log hut, and who lived in it and owned the
adjoining land at the time of which I write, bore the name of Balser
Brent. “Balser” is probably a corruption of Baltzer, but, however that
may be, Balser was his name, and Balser was also the name of his boy,
who was the hero of the bear stories which I am about to tell you.
Mr. Brent and his young wife had moved to the Blue River settlement from
North Carolina, when young Balser was a little boy five or six years of
age. They had purchased the “eighty” upon which they lived, from the
United States, at a sale of public land held in the town of Brookville
on Whitewater, and had paid for it what was then considered a good round
sum—one dollar per acre. They had received a deed for their “eighty”
from no less a person than James Monroe, then President of the United
States. This deed, which is called a patent, was written on sheepskin,
signed by the President’s own hand, and is still preserved by the
descendants of Mr. Brent as one of the title-deeds to the land it
conveyed. The house, as I have told you, consisted of two large rooms,
or buildings, separated by a passageway six or eight feet broad which
was roofed over, but open at both ends—on the north and south. The back
room was the kitchen, and the front room was parlour, bedroom, sitting
room and library all in one.
At the time when my story opens Little Balser, as he was called to
distinguish him from his father, was thirteen or fourteen years of age,
and was the happy possessor of a younger brother, Jim, aged nine, and a
little sister one year old, of whom he was very proud indeed.
On the south side of the front room was a large fireplace. The chimney
was built of sticks, thickly covered with clay. The fireplace was almost
as large as a small room in one of our cramped modern houses, and was
broad and deep enough to take in backlogs which were so large and heavy
that they could not be lifted, but were drawn in at the door and rolled
over the floor to the fireplace.
The prudent father usually kept two extra backlogs, one on each side of
the fireplace, ready to be rolled in as the blaze died down; and on
these logs the children would sit at night, with a rough slate made from
a flat stone, and do their “ciphering,” as the study of arithmetic was
then called. The fire usually furnished all the light they had, for
candles and “dips,” being expensive luxuries, were used only when
company was present.
The fire, however, gave sufficient light, and its blaze upon a cold
night extended half-way up the chimney, sending a ruddy, cozy glow to
every nook and corner of the room.
The back room was the storehouse and kitchen; and from the beams and
along the walls hung rich hams and juicy side-meat, jerked venison,
dried apples, onions, and other provisions for the winter. There was a
glorious fireplace in this room also, and a crane upon which to hang
pots and cooking utensils.
The floor of the front room was made of logs split in halves with the
flat, hewn side up; but the floor of the kitchen was of clay, packed
hard and smooth.
The settlers had no stoves, but did their cooking in round pots called
Dutch ovens. They roasted their meats on a spit or steel bar like the
ramrod of a gun. The spit was kept turning before the fire, presenting
first one side of the meat and then the other, until it was thoroughly
cooked. Turning the spit was the children’s work.
South of the palisade enclosing the barn was the clearing—a tract of
twenty or thirty acres of land, from which Mr. Brent had cut and burned
the trees. On this clearing the stumps stood thick as the hair on an
angry dog’s back; but the hard-working farmer ploughed between and
around them, and each year raised upon the fertile soil enough wheat and
corn to supply the wants of his family and his stock, and still had a
little grain left to take to Brookville, sixty miles away, where he had
bought his land, there to exchange for such necessities of life as could
not be grown upon the farm or found in the forests.
The daily food of the family all came from the farm, the forest, or the
creek. Their sugar was obtained from the sap of the sugar-trees; their
meat was supplied in the greatest abundance by a few hogs, and by the
inexhaustible game of which the forests were full. In the woods were
found deer just for the shooting; and squirrels, rabbits, wild turkeys,
pheasants, and quails, so numerous that a few hours’ hunting would
supply the table for days. The fish in the river, as I told you, fairly
longed to be caught.
One day Mrs. Brent took down the dinner horn and blew upon it two strong
blasts. This was a signal that Little Balser, who was helping his father
down in the clearing, should come to the house. Balser was glad enough
to drop his hoe and to run home. When he reached the house his mother
said:—
“Balser, go up to the drift and catch a mess of fish for dinner. Your
father is tired of deer meat three times a day, and I know he would like
a nice dish of fried redeyes at noon.”
“All right, mother,” said Balser. And he immediately took down his
fishing-pole and line, and got the spade to dig bait. When he had
collected a small gourdful of angleworms, his mother called to him:—
“You had better take a gun. You may meet a bear; your father loaded the
gun this morning, and you must be careful in handling it.”
Balser took the gun, which was a heavy rifle considerably longer than
himself, and started up the river toward the drift, about a quarter of a
mile away.
There had been rain during the night and the ground near the drift was
soft.
Here, Little Balser noticed fresh bear tracks, and his breath began to
come quickly. You may be sure he peered closely into every dark thicket,
and looked behind all the large trees and logs, and had his eyes wide
open lest perchance “Mr. Bear” should step out and surprise him with an
affectionate hug, and thereby put an end to Little Balser forever.
So he walked on cautiously, and, if the truth must be told, somewhat
tremblingly, until he reached the drift.
Balser was but a little fellow, yet the stern necessities of a settler’s
life had compelled his father to teach him the use of a gun; and
although Balser had never killed a bear, he had shot several deer, and
upon one occasion had killed a wildcat, “almost as big as a cow,” he
said.
I have no doubt the wildcat seemed “almost as big as a cow” to Balser
when he killed it, for it must have frightened him greatly, as wildcats
were sometimes dangerous animals for children to encounter. Although
Balser had never met a bear face to face and alone, yet he felt, and
many a time had said, that there wasn’t a bear in the world big enough
to frighten him, if he but had his gun.
[Illustration: “A WILDCAT ALMOST AS BIG AS A COW.”]
He had often imagined and minutely detailed to his parents and little
brother just what he would do if he should meet a bear. He would wait
calmly and quietly until his bearship should come within a few yards of
him, and then he would slowly lift his gun. Bang! and Mr. Bear would be
dead with a bullet in his heart.
[Illustration: “LITTLE BALSER NOTICED FRESH BEAR TRACKS, AND HIS BREATH
BEGAN TO COME QUICKLY.”]
[Illustration: “FRESH BEAR TRACKS.”]
But when he saw the fresh bear tracks, and began to realize that he
would probably have an opportunity to put his theories about bear
killing into practice, he began to wonder if, after all, he would become
frightened and miss his aim. Then he thought of how the bear, in that
case, would be calm and deliberate, and would put _his_ theories into
practice by walking very politely up to him, and making a very
satisfactory dinner of a certain boy whom he could name. But as he
walked on and no bear appeared, his courage grew stronger as the
prospect of meeting the enemy grew less, and he again began saying to
himself that no bear could frighten him, because he had his gun and he
could and would kill it.
So Balser reached the drift; and having looked carefully about him,
leaned his gun against a tree, unwound his fishing-line from the pole,
and walked out to the end of a log which extended into the river some
twenty or thirty feet.
Here he threw in his line, and soon was so busily engaged drawing out
sun fish and redeyes, and now and then a bass, which was hungry enough
to bite at a worm, that all thought of the bear went out of his mind.
After he had caught enough fish for a sumptuous dinner he bethought him
of going home, and as he turned toward the shore, imagine, if you can,
his consternation when he saw upon the bank, quietly watching him, a
huge black bear.
If the wildcat had seemed as large as a cow to Balser, of what size do
you suppose that bear appeared? A cow! An elephant, surely, was small
compared with the huge black fellow standing upon the bank.
[Illustration: “IMAGINE ... HIS CONSTERNATION WHEN HE SAW UPON THE BANK,
QUIETLY WATCHING HIM, A HUGE BLACK BEAR.”]
It is true Balser had never seen an elephant, but his father had, and so
had his friend Tom Fox, who lived down the river; and they all agreed
that an elephant was “purt nigh as big as all outdoors.”
The bear had a peculiar, determined expression about him that seemed to
say:—
[Illustration: “THE BEAR HAD A PECULIAR, DETERMINED EXPRESSION ABOUT
HIM.”]
“That boy can’t get away; he’s out on the log where the water is deep,
and if he jumps into the river I can easily jump in after him and catch
him before he can swim a dozen strokes. He’ll _have_ to come off the log
in a short time, and then I’ll proceed to devour him.”
About the same train of thought had also been rapidly passing through
Balser’s mind. His gun was on the bank where he had left it, and in
order to reach it he would have to pass the bear. He dared not jump into
the water, for any attempt to escape on his part would bring the bear
upon him instantly. He was very much frightened, but, after all, was a
cool-headed little fellow for his age; so he concluded that he would not
press matters, as the bear did not seem inclined to do so, but so long
as the bear remained watching him on the bank would stay upon the log
where he was, and allow the enemy to eye him to his heart’s content.
There they stood, the boy and the bear, each eying the other as though
they were the best of friends, and would like to eat each other, which,
in fact, was literally true.
Time sped very slowly for one of them, you may be sure; and it seemed to
Balser that he had been standing almost an age in the middle of Blue
River on that wretched shaking log, when he heard his mother’s dinner
horn, reminding him that it was time to go home.
Balser quite agreed with his mother, and gladly would he have gone, I
need not tell you; but there stood the bear, patient, determined, and
fierce; and Little Balser soon was convinced in his own mind that his
time had come to die.
He hoped that when his father should go home to dinner and find him
still absent, he would come up the river in search of him, and frighten
away the bear. Hardly had this hope sprung up in his mind, when it
seemed that the same thought had also occurred to the bear, for he began
to move down toward the shore end of the log upon which Balser was
standing.
Slowly came the bear until he reached the end of the log, which for a
moment he examined suspiciously, and then, to Balser’s great alarm,
cautiously stepped out upon it and began to walk toward him.
Balser thought of the folks at home, and, above all, of his baby sister;
and when he felt that he should never see them again, and that they
would in all probability never know of his fate, he began to grow
heavy-hearted and was almost paralyzed with fear.
On came the bear, putting one great paw in front of the other, and
watching Balser intently with his little black eyes. His tongue hung
out, and his great red mouth was open to its widest, showing the sharp,
long, glittering teeth that would soon be feasting on a first-class boy
dinner.
When the bear got within a few feet of Balser—so close he could almost
feel the animal’s hot breath as it slowly approached—the boy grew
desperate with fear, and struck at the bear with the only weapon he
had—his string of fish.
Now, bears love fish and blackberries above all other food; so when
Balser’s string of fish struck the bear in the mouth, he grabbed at
them, and in doing so lost his foothold on the slippery log and fell
into the water with a great splash and plunge.
This was Balser’s chance for life, so he flung the fish to the bear, and
ran for the bank with a speed worthy of the cause.
[Illustration: “WHEN THE BEAR GOT WITHIN A FEW FEET OF BALSER ... THE
BOY GREW DESPERATE WITH FEAR, AND STRUCK AT THE BEAST WITH THE ONLY
WEAPON HE HAD—HIS STRING OF FISH.”]
When he reached the bank his self-confidence returned, and he remembered
all the things he had said he would do if he should meet a bear.
The bear had caught the fish, and again had climbed upon the log, where
he was deliberately devouring them.
This was Little Balser’s chance for death—to the bear. Quickly snatching
up the gun, he rested it in the fork of a small tree near by, took
deliberate aim at the bear, which was not five yards away, and shot him
through the heart. The bear dropped into the water dead, and floated
down-stream a little way, where he lodged at a ripple a short distance
below.
Balser, after he had killed the bear, became more frightened than he had
been at any time during the adventure, and ran home screaming. That
afternoon his father went to the scene of battle and took the bear out
of the water. It was very fat and large, and weighed, so Mr. Brent said,
over six hundred pounds.
Balser was firmly of the opinion that he himself was also very fat and
large, and weighed at least as much as the bear. He was certainly
entitled to feel “big”; for he had got himself out of an ugly scrape in
a brave, manly, and cool-headed manner, and had achieved a victory of
which a man might have been proud.
The news of Balser’s adventure soon spread among the neighbours and he
became quite a hero; for the bear he had killed was one of the largest
that had ever been seen in that neighbourhood, and, besides the gallons
of rich bear oil it yielded, there were three or four hundred pounds of
bear meat; and no other food is more strengthening for winter diet.
There was also the soft, furry skin, which Balser’s mother tanned, and
with it made a coverlid for Balser’s bed, under which he and his little
brother lay many a cold night, cozy and “snug as a bug in a rug.”
[Illustration: “THE BEAR HAD CAUGHT THE FISH AND AGAIN HAD CLIMBED UPON
THE LOG.”]