HUNTING THE HUNTERS
Bob Budd played the part of pendulum to the bear for perhaps ten
minutes or less, during which he kept up his outcries, and Tom and Jim
laughed till they were in danger of falling from their perch in the
tree.
“If Bob had only known what was coming,” said Tom, “he could have had
his trousers lined with sheet iron, and then he might have joined in
the laugh too.”
“Why don’t he give the bear a kick with his foot and knock him over?
He ought to have knowed enough to climb a big tree like us.”
“Helloa! what’s up now?”
Without any apparent reason bruin at this moment dropped down on all
fours, and, leaving Bob Budd to himself, lumbered over under the
refuge of the other two fugitives.
They felt no special fear, for it seemed impossible that the animal
could do them harm.
Bob’s experience was not lost upon him. He realized the mistake he
made when he took refuge in the sapling, and he now repaired it before
the opportunity passed.
Letting go, he dropped lightly on his feet and ran for another tree
double the size of the hickory, up which he hurriedly climbed to where
the limbs put out a dozen feet above the ground.
Here, as he flung one leg over the strong support, he felt that at
last he was safe against a regiment of bears.
Meanwhile, bruin was giving attention to Messrs. James McGovern and
Thomas Wagstaff.
He first walked deliberately around the tree several times, as if
searching for some vulnerable point, occasionally looking up at the
grinning youngsters and snuffing like one impatient to secure his
dinner.
“I wonder what he means by _that_” said Jim, with a vague feeling
of alarm.
“He wants us to see what a big fellow he is.”
“He is a bouncer and no mistake,” was the truthful comment of Jim.
“I wouldn’t care if he was ten times as large—good gracious! look at
_that_!”
Well might the boys start in alarm, for at that moment the brute began
climbing the tree!
They had lost sight of the fact, if indeed they ever knew it, that the
black bear is a famous climber when the trunks are big enough to be
grasped without his paws interfering.
While Tom and Jim were congratulating themselves on being safe beyond
all possible harm, they discovered they were not safe at all.
Bruin was on the point of ascending to their perch, when he was
tempted aside by the shouting of Bob Budd in the sapling, and he went
off to have some sport with him.
Why the brute should have left Bob at the time he had him within reach
it would be hard to say. It may have been he concluded that the single
lad had afforded him enough entertainment, and the moment had come for
the other two to take a hand.
The consternation of Tom and Jim may be imagined when they saw those
massive paws embrace the shaggy bark, which began to crumble beneath
the vigorous clawing of the nails, while the huge black body slowly
but steadily ascended toward the limbs, where the white-faced
youngsters watched his terrifying action.
Bob’s turn had come to laugh, and he called out:
“Wait till he gets up among the branches, then drop and run for a tree
that is too small for him to climb.”
This was good advice perhaps, though it occurred to the boys, for whom
it was intended, that if they allowed their foe to approach that near
it would be too late for them to flee.
Bruin had not very far to ascend when his huge, pig-like head was
thrust among the limbs, and he slowly drew his ponderous body after
him.
He was now close to the fugitives, one of whom was perched above the
other, and both as far out on the branches as they could get without
breaking them.
The big, shaggy form being fairly among the limbs, at the point where
they put out from the tree, bruin paused a minute, like a general
surveying the battle plain before him.
There were the two cowering boys about a dozen feet off, apparently
without any hope of escaping his wrathful appetite. All he had to do
was to make his way out on the branches and gather them in.
It will be seen that there was some difficulty in the bear’s path,
since his weight would not allow him to advance clear to his victims,
unless he used some other limb for his support.
As ill-luck would have it, the very means required was at his command.
Directly beneath Tom and Jim was another branch, broad and strong
enough to support two large bears. It was so near the ground that the
boys used the limbs immediately above, with a view of making sure they
were beyond the reach of the biggest kind of animal on _terra
firma_.
“_Here he comes!_”
It was Tom who uttered the exclamation, and he spoke the truth, for at
that moment bruin began cautiously moving out on the heavy limb just
under them.
“It’s a good time to leave,” whispered Jim, who, while the words were
in his mouth, let go and dropped to the ground.
Tom was but an instant behind him, imitating him so quickly, indeed,
that he struck directly upon his shoulders.
But no harm was done, and they were instantly up and off.
It will be seen from this that the couple adopted substantially the
advice of Bob Budd, which contained more wisdom than most of his
utterances.
Like their leader, the fugitives heeded the dearly bought lesson, and,
instead of taking refuge in a large tree or sapling, they chose one of
precisely the right size, each perching himself where he was as far
beyond reach as Bob Budd himself.
The lads were given plenty of time in which to take their new
departure, since the bear, instead of leaping to the ground as they
did, picked his way back to the body of the tree, and slid down that
to the earth, tearing off a lot of the bark in his descent.
This required so much time that when he once more stood on solid earth
all three of the boys were out of his reach, and could afford to laugh
at his anger.
Halting a short distance from the tree, bruin looked at the boys in
turn with such an odd expression that they laughed.
Gradually the idea appeared to work itself into the thick brain of the
animal that there was nothing to be made by remaining in that
particular part of the country, though his reluctance to leave caused
no little misgiving on the part of all three of the youths.
If he should decide to stay until the party were compelled to choose
between starving to death and coming down, the situation, to say the
least, would have its inconveniences.
“There he goes!” exclaimed Jim, a quarter of an hour after this
possible complication had been discussed by the youngsters from their
different perches.
The bear seemed to have decided that it was useless to hang around the
neighborhood, and began moving off in his lumbering fashion. He was
attentively watched until he vanished in the dense wood.
“We’re all right _now_” called Bob.
“Maybe he is trying to fool us,” suggested Tom; “you had better stay
where you are awhile longer.”
“Who’s afraid?” defiantly called back Bob, sliding nimbly down the
sapling; “you don’t catch me running from a bear again; all I want is
a chance to get hold of my gun and load it—Jewhilakens!”
A roar of laughter broke from Jim and Tom, who at that moment caught
sight of the brute coming back at a faster rate than he had departed.
Bob was equally quick in descrying his danger, and the manner in which
he shinned up the sapling would have surprised a trained athlete, who
could not have surpassed it.
“When is the fraud going to leave?” he growled, looking down on the
intruder that had stopped directly under him; “I don’t know whether
bears are good waiters, but I hope he won’t try to keep us here more
than a week.”
Bruin went snuffing around the spot, clawing the guns curiously,
gazing up at each lad in turn, and finally starting off once more.
The boys hoped his departure was for good, but you may be sure they
did not discount it. When, however, a half-hour went by without his
being seen, all felt there was ground for hope.
It seemed safe to experiment a little, and so Bob once more slid down
the sapling, after carefully reconnoitering all the forest in his
field of vision. He held himself ready also to climb again the instant
the beast reappeared.
The boys were too frightened to attempt any jokes on each other, and
when Tom and Jim reported that bruin was not in sight, Bob believed
them.
His gun was lying not far off, and he began timidly making his way
toward it. Step by step he advanced, glancing in every direction, and
ready to dart back the instant he saw or heard anything suspicious.
Finally he stooped over and picked up the weapon. Still the bear was
invisible, and Bob hurriedly reloaded his gun, though it cannot be
claimed that he felt much more secure than before.
Thus encouraged, Tom and Jim ventured to descend from their respective
trees, and they also recovered their weapons without bringing their
enemy down upon them.
“It must be he’s gone for good,” said Jim, in a guarded undertone.
“It looks that way,” replied Tom, “and the best thing we can do is to
follow suit.”
This was the unanimous sentiment, and it was acted upon without delay.
It cannot be said that a single member of the Piketon Rangers breathed
freely until fully a half-mile from the scene of their adventure with
the bear.
The slightest noise caused them to start and gaze around with
rapidly-beating hearts; they spoke only a few words and they were in
undertones, while they paused a half-dozen times in the belief that
some stump or dark-colored boulder was the dreaded brute awaiting
their approach.
But by the time the half-mile was passed they grew more confident.
They spoke in ordinary tones, and did not start at the sound of every
rustling leaf.
“That’s the last hunt I ever make up there,” said Jim McGovern,
turning about and glaring at the mountainous slope as though it had
done him a personal injury.
“I’m with you,” replied Tom Wagstaff; “them as like to have their
brains banged out by bucks ten feet high or chawed up by bears as big
as an elephant are welcome, but not any for me.”
“I feel sort of that way myself,” assented Bob; “it’s the first time
I’ve tried it since I was a tot of a boy, but I’ve had enough to last
me for the next three hundred and eighty-five years. I hope Uncle Jim
won’t ask too many questions about Hero, because he thought a good
deal of that hound.”
“He needn’t ever know that he departed this life through a mysterious
dispensation of Providence,” replied Jim; “all that it is necessary to
learn—and I don’t know that there’s any need of _that_—is that
Hero went off on an exploring expedition and hasn’t yet returned. The
particulars of his shipwreck are unobtainable, as is often the case
with other explorers.”
“Oh! I can manage it, I’ve no doubt, for I was never yet caught in a
scrape that I couldn’t get out of,” was the cheerful response of Bob
Budd.
The day was well gone when the three reached their tent at the base of
Mount Barclay, and they were glad enough to get back again.
During their absence Aunt Ruth had sent one of the hired men, as was
her custom, with a liberal supply of delicacies, which were disposed
of in the usual vigorous style of the three, who were honest when they
agreed that they had had enough hunting of bears and deer to last them
a lifetime.
“If we could only manage the thing without so much work,” said Bob,
“we might find some fun in it; but we had to climb up that mountain,
which is three times as high as I supposed, and when the danger came,
why we hadn’t our usual strength.”
“I think we did pretty well,” replied Tom Wagstaff, “but all the same
I don’t believe it would read very well in print.”
“Who’s going to put it in print?” asked Bob; “we know too much to tell
any one about it, or, if we did, we would get it in a shape that would
do us proud.”
“Well, being as we have had all we want of hunting, the next thing
will be—what?”
“Doing nothing,” replied Wagstaff.
“We can do the next thing to that, which is just as good.”
“What’s that?” asked Bob.
“Fish; stretch out along-shore in the shade, where there’s no danger
of rolling in, or go out in a boat and wait for the fish to bite, not
caring much whether they do or not. The best thing about fishing is
that you never have to tire yourself—”
“_Hark!_”
At that moment the three heard a prodigious roar, rapidly increasing
in volume, until the air seemed to be filled with one continuous
reverberating peal of thunder.
“Heaven save us!” exclaimed Bob Budd; “the dam has burst!”
“And it is coming down on us and we can’t get out of its path!” added
white-faced Wagstaff.
He spoke the truth!