HOW BALSER GOT A GUN.
For many years after the killing of the big bear, as told in the
preceding chapter, time was reckoned by Balser as beginning with that
event. It was, if I may say it, his “Anno Domini.” In speaking of
occurrences, events, and dates, he always fixed them in a general way by
saying, “That happened before I killed the big bear;” or, “That took
place after I killed the big bear.” The great immeasurable eternity of
time was divided into two parts: that large unoccupied portion preceding
the death of the big bear, and the part, full to overflowing with
satisfaction and pride, after that momentous event.
Balser’s adventure had raised him vastly in the estimation of his
friends and neighbours, and, what was quite as good, had increased his
respect for himself, and had given him confidence, which is one of the
most valuable qualities for boy or man. Frequently when Balser met
strangers, and the story of the big bear was told, they would pat the
boy on the shoulder and call him a little man, and would sometimes ask
him if he owned a gun. Much to Balser’s sorrow, he was compelled to
admit that he did not. The questions as to whether or not he owned a gun
had put into his mind the thought of how delightful life would be if he
but possessed one; and his favourite visions by day and his sweetest
dreams by night were all about a gun; one not so long nor so heavy as
his father’s, but of the shorter, lighter pattern known as a smooth-bore
carbine. He had heard his father speak of this gun, and of its
effectiveness at short range; and although at long distances it was not
so true of aim as his father’s gun, still he felt confident that, if he
but possessed the coveted carbine he could, single-handed and alone,
exterminate all the races of bears, wolves and wildcats that inhabited
the forests round about, and “pestered” the farmers with their
depredations.
But how to get the gun! That was the question. Balser’s father had
received a gun as a present from _his_ father when Balser Sr. had
reached the advanced age of twenty-one, and it was considered a rich
gift. The cost of a gun for Balser would equal half of the sum total
that his father could make during an entire year; and, although Little
Balser looked forward in fond expectation to the time when he should be
twenty-one and should receive a gun from his father, yet he did not even
hope that he would have one before then, however much he might dream
about it. Dreams cost nothing, and guns were expensive; too expensive
even to be hoped for. So Balser contented himself with inexpensive
dreams, and was willing, though not content, to wait.
But the unexpected usually happens, at an unexpected time, and in an
unexpected manner.
About the beginning of the summer after the killing of the big bear,
when Balser’s father had “laid by” his corn, and the little patch of
wheat had just begun to take on a golden brown as due notice that it was
nearly ready to be harvested, there came a few days of idleness for the
busy farmer. Upon one of those rare idle days Mr. Brent and Balser went
down the river on a fishing and hunting expedition. There was but one
gun in the family, therefore Balser could not hunt when his father was
with him, so he took his fishing-rod, and did great execution among the
finny tribe, while his father watched along the river for game, as it
came down to drink.
Upon the day mentioned Balser and his father had wandered down the river
as far as the Michigan road, and Mr. Brent had left the boy near the
road fishing, after telling him to go home in an hour or two, and that
he, Mr. Brent, would go by another route and be home in time for supper.
So Balser was left by himself, fishing at a deep hole perhaps a hundred
yards north of the road. This was at a time when the river was in flood,
and the ford where travellers usually crossed was too deep for passage.
Balser had been fishing for an hour or more, and had concluded to go
home, when he saw approaching along the road from the east a man and
woman on horseback. They soon reached the ford and stopped, believing it
to be impassable. They were mud-stained and travel-worn, and their
horses, covered with froth, were panting as if they had been urged to
their greatest speed. After a little time the gentleman saw Balser, and
called to him. The boy immediately went to the travellers, and the
gentleman said:—
“My little man, can you tell me if it is safe to attempt the ford at
this time?”
“It will swim your horses,” answered Balser.
“I knew it would,” said the lady, in evident distress. She was young and
pretty, and seemed to be greatly fatigued and frightened. The gentleman
was very attentive, and tried to soothe her, but in a moment or two she
began to weep, and said:—
“They will catch us, I know. They will catch us. They cannot be more
than a mile behind us now, and we have no place to turn.”
“Is some one trying to catch you?” asked Balser.
The gentleman looked down at the little fellow for a moment, and was
struck by his bright, manly air. The thought occurred to him that Balser
might suspect them of being fugitives from justice, so he explained:—
“Yes, my little fellow, a gentleman is trying to catch us. He is this
lady’s father. He has with him a dozen men, and if they overtake us they
will certainly kill me and take this lady home. Do you know of any place
where we may hide?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Balser, quickly; “help me on behind you, and I’ll
take you to my father’s house. There’s no path up the river, and if they
attempt to follow they’ll get lost in the woods.”
Balser climbed on the horse behind the gentleman, and soon they plunged
into the deep forest, and rode up the river toward Balser’s home. The
boy knew the forest well, and in a short time the little party of three
was standing at the hospitable cabin door. Matters were soon explained
to Balser’s mother, and she, with true hospitality, welcomed the
travellers to her home. During the conversation Balser learned that the
gentleman and lady were running away that they might be married, and,
hoping to finish a good job, the boy volunteered the advice that they
should be married that same evening under his father’s roof. He also
offered to go in quest of a preacher who made his home some two miles to
the east.
The advice and the offer of services were eagerly accepted, and the lady
and gentleman were married that night, and remained a few days at the
home of Mr. Brent until the river was low enough to cross.
The strangers felt grateful to the boy who had given them such timely
help, and asked him what they could do for him in return.
Balser hesitated a moment, and said, “There’s only one thing I want very
bad, but that would cost so much there’s no use to speak of it.”
“What is it, Balser? Speak up, and if it is anything I can buy, you
shall have it.”
“A gun! A gun! A smooth-bore carbine. I’d rather have it than anything
else in the world.”
“You shall have it if there’s one to be bought in Indianapolis. We are
going there, and will return within a week or ten days, and you shall
have your carbine if I can find one.”
Within two weeks after this conversation Balser was the happiest boy in
Indiana, for he owned a carbine, ten pounds of fine powder, and lead
enough to kill every living creature within a radius of five miles.
Of course the carbine had to be tested at once. So the day after he
received it Balser started out with his father on a hunting expedition,
fully determined in his own mind to kill a bear twice as large as his
first one. They took with them corn-bread and dried venison for dinner,
and started east toward Conn’s Creek, where the houses of the settlers
were thinly scattered and game plentiful.
They had with them two faithful dogs, “Tige” and “Prince.” Balser
considered these dogs the most intelligent animals that walked on four
feet. They were deerhounds with a cross of bulldog, and were swift of
foot and very strong.
Our hunters had travelled perhaps three or four miles into the forest
when they started a deer, in pursuit of which the dogs bounded off with
their peculiar bark, and soon deer and dogs were lost to sight. Balser
and his father listened carefully for the voices of the dogs, for should
the deer turn at bay, the dogs, instead of the quick bark, to which they
gave voice in the chase, would utter a long-drawn-out note—half howl,
half yelp.
The bay of the hounds had died away in the distance, and Balser and his
father had heard nothing of them for two or three hours.
The hunters had seen other deer as they walked along, but they had been
unable to obtain a shot. Smaller game was plentiful, but Balser and his
father did not care to frighten away large game by shooting at squirrels
or birds. So they continued their walk until they reached the bank of
Conn’s Creek, near the hour of noon; by that time Balser’s appetite was
beginning to call loudly for dinner, and he could not resist the
temptation to shoot a squirrel, which he saw upon a limb of a
neighbouring tree. The squirrel fell to the ground and was soon skinned
and cleaned. Balser then kindled a fire, and cutting several green
twigs, sharpened the ends and fastened small pieces of the squirrel upon
them. He next stuck the twigs in the ground so that they leaned toward
the fire, with the meat hanging directly over the blaze. Soon the
squirrel was roasted to a delicious brown, and then Balser served dinner
to his father, who was sitting on a rock near by. The squirrel, the
corn-bread, and the venison quickly disappeared, and Balser, if
permitted to do so, would have found another squirrel and would have
cooked it. Just as dinner was finished, there came from a long way
up-stream the howling bark of Tige and Prince, telling, plainly as if
they had spoken English, that the deer was at bay.
Thereupon Balser quickly loaded his gun, and he and his father looked
carefully to their primings. Then Mr. Brent directed Balser to climb
down the cliff and move toward the dogs through the thicket in the
bottom, while he went by another route, along the bluff. Should the
hunters be separated, they were to meet at an agreed place in the
forest. Balser climbed cautiously down the cliff and was soon deep in a
dark thicket of tangled underbrush near the creek.
Now and then the deep bay of the dogs reached his ears from the
direction whence he had first heard it, and he walked as rapidly as the
tangled briers and undergrowth would permit toward his faithful
fellow-hunters.
He was so intent on the game which he knew the dogs held at bay, that he
did not look about him with his accustomed caution, and the result of
his unwatchfulness was that he found himself within ten feet of two huge
bears before he was at all aware of their presence. They were evidently
male and female, and upon seeing him the great he-bear gave forth a
growl that frightened Balser to the depths of his soul. Retreat seemed
almost impossible; and should he fire at one of the bears, his gun would
be empty and he would be at the mercy of the other. To attempt to outrun
a bear, even on level ground, would be almost a hopeless undertaking;
for the bear, though an awkward-looking creature, is capable of great
speed when it comes to a foot-race. But there, where the tangled
underbrush was so dense that even walking through it was a matter of
great difficulty, running was out of the question, for the thicket which
would greatly impede Balser would be but small hindrance to the bears.
After Balser had killed the big bear at the drift, he felt that he never
again would suffer from what hunters call “buck ager”; but when he found
himself confronted by those black monsters, he began to tremble in every
limb, and for the life of him could not at first lift his gun. The
he-bear was the first to move. He raised himself on his haunches, and
with a deep growl started for poor Balser. Balser should have shot the
bear as he came toward him, but acting solely from an instinct of
self-preservation he started to run. He made better headway than he had
thought possible, and soon came to a small open space of ground where
the undergrowth was not so thick, and where the bright light of the sun
dispelled the darkness. The light restored Balser’s confidence, and the
few moments of retreat gave him time to think and to pull himself
together. So, turning quickly, he lifted his gun to his shoulder and
fired at the bear, which was not two yards behind him. Unfortunately,
his aim was unsteady, and his shot wounded the bear in the neck, but did
not kill him.
Balser saw the disastrous failure he had made, and felt that the bear
would be much surer in his attack upon him than he had been in his
attack upon the bear. The boy then threw away his gun, and again began a
hasty retreat.
He called for his father, and cried, “Tige! Prince! Tige! Tige!” not so
much with a hope that either the dogs or his father would hear, but
because he knew not what else to do. Balser ran as fast as he could,
still the bear was at his heels, and the frightened boy expected every
moment to feel a stroke from the brute’s huge rough paw. Soon it came,
with a stunning force that threw Balser to the ground, upon his back.
The bear was over him in an instant, and caught his left arm between his
mighty jaws. It seemed then that the light of the world went out for a
moment, and he remembered nothing but the huge, blood-red mouth of the
bear, his hot breath almost burning his cheeks, and his deep, terrible
growls nearly deafening his ears. Balser’s whole past life came up
before him like a picture, and he remembered everything that had ever
happened to him. He thought of how deeply his dear father and mother
would grieve, and for the only time in his life regretted having
received the carbine, for it was the gun, after all, that had got him
into this trouble. All this happened in less time than it takes you to
read ten lines of this page, but it seemed very, very long to Balser,
lying there with the huge body of the bear over him.
[Illustration: “He could hear the bear growling right at his heels, and
it made him just fly.”]
Suddenly a note of hope struck his ear—the sweetest sound he had ever
heard. It was the yelp of dear old Tige, who had heard his call and had
come to the rescue. If there is any creature on earth that a bear
thoroughly hates, it is a dog. Tige wasted not a moment’s time, but was
soon biting and pulling at the bear’s hind legs. The bear immediately
turned upon the dog, and gave Balser an opportunity to rise. Of this
opportunity he quickly took advantage, you may be sure. Soon Prince came
up also, and in these two strong dogs the bear had foemen worthy of his
steel.
Balser’s great danger and narrow escape had quickened all his faculties,
so he at once ran back to the place where he had dropped his gun, and
although his left arm had been terribly bitten, he succeeded in loading,
and soon came back to the help of the dogs, who had given him such
timely assistance.
The fight between the dogs and the bear was going on at a merry rate,
when Balser returned to the scene of action. With Prince on one side and
Tige on the other, both so strong and savage, and each quick and nimble
as a cat, the bear had all he could do to defend himself, and
continually turned first one way and then another in his effort to keep
their fangs away from his legs or throat. This enabled Balser to
approach within a short distance of the bear, which he cautiously did.
Taking care not to wound either of his faithful friends, he was more
fortunate in his aim than he had been the first time, and gave the bear
a mortal wound.
The wounded animal made a hasty retreat back into the thicket, followed
closely by the dogs; but Balser had seen more than enough of bear
society in the thicket, and prudently concluded not to follow. He then
loaded his gun with a heavy charge of powder only, and fired it to
attract his father’s attention. This he repeated several times, until at
last he saw the welcome form of his father hurrying toward him from the
bluff. When his father reached him and saw that he had been wounded, Mr.
Brent was naturally greatly troubled; but Balser said: “I’ll tell you
all about it soon. Let’s go in after the bears. Two of them are in the
thicket up there next to the cliff, and the dogs have followed them. If
Tige had not come up just in time, one of the bears would have killed
me; but I think the shot I gave him must have killed him by this time.”
So without another word, Balser having loaded his gun, they started into
the dark thicket toward the cliff, in the direction whence came the
voices of the dogs.
They had not proceeded farther than a hundred yards when they found the
bear which Balser had shot, lying dead in the path over which Balser had
so recently made his desperate retreat. The dogs were farther in, toward
the cliff, where the vines, trees, and brush grew so thick that it was
almost dark.
The two hunters, however, did not stop, but hurried on to the help of
their dogs. Soon they saw through the gloom of the thicket the she-bear,
and about her the dogs were prancing, barking, and snapping most
furiously.
Carefully Balser and his father took their position within a few yards
of the bear, and Balser, upon a signal from his father, called off the
dogs so that a shot might be made at the bear without danger of killing
either Tige or Prince.
[Illustration: “Tige was told to go into the cave.”]
Soon the report of two guns echoed through the forest, almost at the
same instant, and the great she-bear fell over on her side, quivered for
a moment, and died. This last battle took place close by the stone
cliff, which rose from the bottom-land to a height of fifty or sixty
feet.
Balser and his father soon worked their way through the underbrush to
where the she-bear lay dead. After having examined the bear, Balser’s
attention was attracted to a small opening in the cliff, evidently the
mouth of a cave which had probably been the home of the bear family that
he and his father had just exterminated. The she-bear had taken her
stand at the door of her home, and in defending it had lost her life.
Balser examined the opening in the cliff, and concluded to enter; but
his father said:—
“You don’t know what’s in there. Let’s first send in one of the dogs.”
So Tige was called and told to go into the cave. Immediately after he
had entered he gave forth a series of sharp yelps which told plainly
enough that he had found something worth barking at. Then Balser called
the dog out, and Mr. Brent collected pieces of dry wood, and made a fire
in front of the cave, hoping to drive out any animal that might be on
the inside.
He more than suspected that he would find a pair of cubs.
As the smoke brought nothing forth, he concluded to enter the cave
himself and learn what was there.
Dropping upon his knees, he began to crawl in at the narrow opening, and
the boy and the two dogs followed closely. Mr. Brent had taken with him
a lighted torch, and when he had gone but a short distance into the cave
he saw in a remote corner a pair of gray-black, frowzy little cubs, as
fat and round as a roll of butter. They were lying upon a soft bed of
leaves and grass, which had been collected by their father and mother.
Balser’s delight knew no bounds, for, next to his gun, what he wanted
above all things was a bear cub, and here were two of them. Quickly he
and his father each picked up a cub and made their way out of the cave.
The cubs, not more than one-half larger than a cat, were round and very
fat, and wore a coat of fur, soft and sleek as the finest silk. Young
bears usually are gray until after they are a year old, but these were
an exception to the rule, for they were almost black.
Leaving the old bears dead upon the ground, Balser and his father
hurried down to the creek, where Mr. Brent washed and dressed his son’s
wounded arm. They then marked several trees upon the bank of the creek
by breaking twigs, so that they might be able to find the bears when
they returned that evening with the horses to take home the meat and
skins.
All this, which has taken so long to tell, occurred within the space of
a few minutes; but the work while it lasted was hard and tiresome, and,
although it was but a short time past noon, Balser and his father were
only too glad to turn their faces homeward, each with a saucy little
bear cub under his arm.
“As we have killed their mother,” said Balser, referring to the cubs,
“we must take care of her children and give them plenty of milk, and
bring them up to be good, honest bears.”
The evening of the same day Mr. Brent and a few of his neighbours
brought home the bear meat and skins. Balser did not go with his father
because his arm was too sore. He was, however, very proud of his wound,
and thought that the glory of the day and the two bear cubs were
purchased cheaply enough after all.
[Illustration: “Each with a saucy little cub.”]