UP A TREE
“Gracious!” gasped Tom Wagstaff, “let’s run!”
“I agree with Tom,” added Jim, glancing furtively around, as though he
expected to see the dreadful beast rush out of the woods after them.
“You’re a fine set of hunters, aint you?” sneered Bob; “after coming
out to hunt game you want to run when you strike the trail of the very
creature you’re looking for.”
“I aint looking for bears,” said Tom, “I haven’t lost any.”
“And besides,” added Jim, “there isn’t any fallen tree here where we
can crawl under to get out of the way.”
“But there’s plenty of trees which you can climb—_there he comes
now_!”
Tom and Jim each glanced affrightedly around, not knowing which way to
run to escape the dreaded brute.
But it was a joke of Bob’s, and he made the woods ring with his
laughter, while, as may be supposed, the others were in no amiable
mood.
“I don’t see any fun in that sort of thing,” growled Tom.
“You may do like the boy in the fable, who shouted ‘Wolf!’ once too
often,” added Jim, ashamed of his weakness.
The next instant Tom Wagstaff shouted: “_There he comes and no
mistake!_”
Tom and Jim were standing on one side of the streamlet, facing Bob on
the other side, so that his back was turned toward the point at which
they were gazing.
The expression on the countenance of the couple was that of extreme
alarm, though such a brief time had elapsed since Bob had given them a
scare that they had not yet recovered from it.
“You’re right!” Jim added, instantly, as he and Tom wheeled and dashed
off at the top of their speed through the woods.
Bob was determined they should not fool him. He laughed again in his
hearty fashion, throwing back and shaking his head.
“You can’t come that, boys!” he called, “it’s too soon after my little
joke on you.”
“But, Bob, we aint joking,” shouted back Jim, looking over his
shoulder, but still running; “the bear is coming as sure as you are
born.”
“You can’t fool me.”
Bob had not the remotest suspicion that his friends were in earnest,
but the sight of them climbing the same tree led him to think they
were pushing their poor joke with a great deal of vigor.
At this same moment he heard a crashing and trampling among the bushes
behind him, and, checking the words on his lips, turned his head.
The bear _was_ coming!
An enormous fellow of the ordinary black species had been descried by
Tom and Jim when less than a hundred yards away, and he was advancing
straight toward the spot where the three were standing.
They were in dead earnest, therefore, when they fled, calling to Bob
the frightful news.
Had not Bob just played a joke on them he would not have doubted their
sincerity, so that in one sense his peril was a punishment for his own
misdoing.
It need not be said that the laughter on Bob Budd’s lips froze, and he
made a break after his companions, who had so much the start of him.
“Gracious!” he muttered, “I didn’t think they were in earnest; I’m a
goner this time sure.”
Nevertheless he had no thought of sitting down and waiting to be
devoured by bruin, who lumbered along in his awkward fashion, rapidly
drawing near him.
Bob’s hat went off, his gun was flung from his hand, and with one
bound he landed far beyond the edge of the streamlet and made after
his friends, throwing terrified glances over his shoulder at the
brute, which took up the pursuit as though it was the most enjoyable
sport he had had in a long time.
Once more the exasperating vines got in the way, and the
panic-stricken fugitive fell sprawling on his hands and knees,
bounding instantly to his feet and making for the tree where his
friends had secured refuge.
By this time the bear was almost upon him, so close indeed that he
reached out one of his paws to seize his victim.
No words can picture the terror of Bob Budd when he felt the long
nails scratching down his back and actually tearing his coat, but
bruin was a few inches too short, and the youth made such good time
that he struck the tree a number of paces in advance of his pursuer.
The fugitive, however, did not stop, for before he could climb the
brief distance necessary to reach the limbs, the beast would have had
him at his mercy. He therefore continued his flight, yelling in such a
delirium of fright that he really did not know what words escaped him.
“Why don’t you come down?” he called to his friends, “and give me a
chance? Let him chase _you_ awhile.”
It is unnecessary to state that neither Tom nor Jim accepted the
urgent invitation of their imperiled comrade.
“Run hard, Bob, and show him what you can do!” called back Tom, who
really thought it was all over with their leader.
This shout accomplished more than was expected. The noise led the bear
to look up the tree, where he observed the two boys perched but a
short distance above him. He seemed all at once to lose interest in
the fugitive, who continued his flight some distance farther, when,
finding his enemy was not at his heels, he sprang for a sapling, up
which he went like a monkey.
The trouble with Bob, however, was that he climbed too high. It was a
small hickory, not much thicker than his arm. This kind of wood, as
you are aware, is very elastic, and the first thing the lad knew was
that the upper part, to which he was clinging, bent so far over that
it curved like a bow, and before it stopped he had sank to within six
or eight feet of the ground.
Had the bear continued his pursuit, Bob would have been in an
unfortunate predicament; but, casting a glance behind him, he noticed
the beast had stopped under the tree supporting Tom and Jim.
Two courses were open to him, either of which would have secured his
safety.
He had time enough to drop from the sapling and take to a larger one,
up which he could have climbed and been beyond harm; or he could have
slid a little farther down the hickory, so as to allow it to right
itself, and he still would have been safe, for a bear is unable to
climb a tree so slight in diameter that his paws meet around it.
But Bob was too terrified to do either. He simply held fast, and did
the worst thing possible: he continued to shout for his companions to
come to his help.
By this means he once more attracted the notice of bruin to himself,
whereas, if he had held his peace, he would have given the whole of
his attention to the two boys in the larger tree.
The bear had reared on his haunches, seemingly with the intention of
striving to reach the lads, when he turned his head and took a look at
the one in the sapling.
Stupid as is bruin by nature, he saw that it would be easier for him
to reach the single fugitive than the others, and he proceeded to do
so.
You need not be told that Tom and Jim, like Bob, had thrown away their
guns again in their frenzied flight, through fear that they would
retard their efforts to get beyond his reach.
Poor Bob, when he found himself once more the object of the animal’s
undivided attention, felt as though he might as well let go and be
devoured at once. All the same, though, he hung fast and continued his
cries, which, had there been time, would have brought help from the
distance of a mile.
He was clinging to the sapling with both hands, and his two feet, that
were wrapped about the small trunk, only a short distance below his
shoulders. This caused the centre of his body to hang down like the
lower point of a horseshoe, the curve being sharper than that of the
bowed hickory.
Halting directly under the howling lad, the bear reared on his
haunches, reached upward with one paw and struck Bob a sharp blow. It
caused him no material damage, but set the body to swaying back and
forth. At the same time the hickory nodded, letting the lad sink a few
inches and then rising with a regular, swinging motion.
This would have ceased in a moment of itself, but for the action of
the bear, who, every time the body came within easy reach, hit it a
sharp tap with his paw, causing it to swing back and forth in a sort
of rhythmic accord with the dipping of the sapling.
[Illustration: AN AWKWARD PREDICAMENT]
It is said that some, and indeed all, animals possess a certain
waggery of disposition which shows itself on rare occasions. The bear
inflicted no injury on Bob, but the scraping of those long, sharp
claws did considerable damage to his trousers, while keeping his fears
at the boiling point.
It certainly was a grotesque scene.
There sat bruin, with his right paw raised, regularly tapping Bob,
while the latter, with his hands and feet close together, and his body
doubled up like a jack-knife, swung up and down with a steady motion,
in response to the impetus given by the brute.
Of course the latter was silent, though if he had possessed the
capacity to laugh, there can be no doubt that he would have done so,
for, aside from the ever-present peril threatening the fellow, a more
amusing sight cannot be imagined.
Even Tom and Jim, when they saw their companion was suffering no harm,
broke into mirth, which grated on the nerves of the victim of a most
unprecedented combination of circumstances.
But sooner than Jim or Tom suspected the moment came when the laugh
was “on the other side of the mouth.”