THE TRAIL OF THE CLOG.
The excitement was tremendous for the time being, with the barking of the
two dogs and the cries of the boys.
All of them had heard that savage snarl as Trapper Jim stepped out.
"Was it a bobcat?" demanded Steve, who had been wise enough to snatch up
his gun before following the trapper out of the door.
"Just what it was," replied the other.
"Three to one he was at our meat!" exclaimed Max.
"You can see it swinging yet," declared Owen.
"That's right, son," the trapper admitted; he was hanging to it when I
broke out so sudden-like. When he snarled like that I ducked some,
because it ain't the nicest thing a-going to have a bobcat on your
shoulders. But I saw him make a spring and land among the branches of the
tree. Then he was gone, and the dogs they run out, givin' tongue."
"The moon's just climbin' in sight," said Steve, eagerly; "d'ye think I'd
stand a chance to get a crack at him if I hurried along to where the dogs
are barking like mad?"
He acted as though seriously contemplating such a bold move. The trapper
laid a hand on his shoulder.
"You'd best stay just where you be, son," he said, quietly, but in a way
Steve understood. "Only a foolish or reckless hunter'd try to get at
lose quarters with a bobcat of nights. They scratch like fun, and there's
always danger of blood poisoning from such wounds."
So Steve was forced to restrain his ardor. But he relinquished his plan
with rather bad grace.
"I'll get you yet, old feller," he was heard to mutter, as they heard the
wildcat emit a mocking, tantalizing cry at some little distance away.
"You see if I don't, now!"
And when Steve once set his mind upon accomplishing anything, he
generally got there, for he was very persistent.
Trapper Jim, thinking that the dogs had had all the excitement necessary,
and wishing to put a stop to their racket, blew a whistle he carried.
So well trained were the dogs that upon hearing the signal to return to
their master they immediately stopped barking and a few minutes later
Ajax showed up, quickly followed by Don.
"You chased him off, didn't you?" said the trapper, stooping down to pat
his pets by turns.
The dogs each gave a single bark, as though to say "yes," and their
wagging tails told how much they appreciated these few words of praise
from their master.
"Will the cat come back again, do you think?" Owen asked.
"I reckon not," laughed Trapper Jim; "since he's found out we keep dogs
around the camp. A bobcat hates dogs about as much as human beings do
skunks. If you ever run across him again, Steve, it'll be somewhere else;
p'r'aps up where you left the rest of your fine buck."
"Well, he didn't get our breakfast, anyway," remarked Bandy-legs, quite
bold again, since all the danger seemed past.
"Will you leave it out there after this, Uncle Jim?" asked Max.
"On the whole," replied the other, "I guess not. It'll keep all right
indoors. And if that hungry cat should come back, the dogs'll smell him
and keep up a tarnal barkin' that'll knock our sleep galley-west."
So he proceeded to lower what was left of the venison, which was
thereupon carried inside the house and hung up from the rafters, along
with numerous other things--packages of dried herbs, stalks of tobacco
which Jim had had sent up from Kentucky, where a friend grew the weed,
and some dried venison that he called "pemmican" or jerked meat.
As they were all tired and in need of a good night's rest, the boys were
just as well pleased with this assurance that their sleep should not be
broken.
"I guess that pesky skunk didn't have time to crawl in my bunk,"
announced Bandy-legs, in a satisfied tone, after sniffing the blankets
carefully.
"Oh, you're always seeing ghosts where there ain't none!" declared Steve.
The night passed away without any serious disturbance. Once or twice
there was an outbreak of barking on the part of the dogs, still haunted
by memories of the bold bobcat that had dared come so close to the cabin.
Trapper Jim had to go out once to quiet Ajax, whose deep-toned baying
seemed to annoy him.
Morning arrived, and the boys, as usual, were up at the first peep of
day. There was so much to be done they could not waste time in trying to
sleep after the darkness had gone.
On this particular day quite a number of things awaited their attention.
First of all they meant to seek the spot where the big bear trap had been
set in the hopes that they would find Bruin caught.
This was only a beginning.
Next in order, Steve and Max had decided to start out, taking Toby along,
and fetch in the balance of the venison, Toby had expressed a desire
to see the arena where Steve and the five-pronged buck held their little
circus. He also wished to try how fast he could hurry around that tree,
so as to be prepared in case the time ever came when necessity would
compel him to adopt the same tactics.
Finally, Trapper Jim, and possibly the ether two boys, would have to make
the rounds of the traps to take out any catch, and set them again.
On the whole it promised to be a rather energetic day.
Breakfast having been disposed of the boys all got ready to move on. This
time the dogs were taken, because they might prove valuable in case a
bear was caught. But Trapper Jim made sure to hold them in leash. He
valued the dogs too much to think of taking any more chances of having
them injured than he could help. There was no need of risking their lives
with a trapped and furious bear when a single bullet would do the
business.
"Close that window, boys," said the trapper when they were ready to go.
"You bet we will," declared Steve.
"No more unwelcome guests--whew!" ventured Bandy-legs, as he started to
accomplish the duty mentioned by the trapper.
They made quite a large party as they sallied forth--five boys, the
trapper, and the two dogs. Each of the boys had a gun of some sort, for
they had provided themselves with weapons against this trip to the North
Woods and two weeks or so with Trapper Jim.
"I pity the poor bear," said Max, as he looked around at the assortment
of weapons and the eager faces back of them.
"He'll sure die of fright when he sees this bunch all in their war
paint," Steve observed. "'Specially when he gets sight of Bandy-legs
there with that silly old pump gun he bought and is afraid to use."
"Who's afraid?" sang out the injured party. "I ain't used it just because
there ain't been no chance yet, see? If I'd been along with Max when that
buck showed up, guess I'd 'a' give him as good as you did."
"Listen, would you, fellers!" exclaimed Steve, and then he laughed. "Say,
wouldn't it have been a circus if that deer got to chasing Bandy-legs
around a tree! Run? Well, he'd have to stir those stumps of his faster
than he ever did before in all his life, or he'd be hangin' on the ends
of them horns. I guess you're lucky not to have been there, my boy!"
"We're getting near the place where we set that trap, I reckon," remarked
Bandy-legs, partly to change the course of the conversation, for it
sometimes made him feel uncomfortable when Steve got to joking upon the
subject of his short lower limbs.
"Correct, son," replied the trapper. "I'm glad to see you noticed the lay
of things when we was here yesterday."
"It's right over yonder," continued Bandy-legs, anxious now to let Steve
see that he was not as stupid as the other made out.
"What makes you so sure of that, Bandy-legs?" asked Max.
"Why, you see, I remember that tree with the big bunch of scarlet leaves.
I was lookin' at that while Uncle Jim set the trap. Ain't another clump
like that anywhere around, I reckon," was the smart reply Bandy-legs
made.
The old trapper nodded his head.
"He's right," he said. "I took them same five leaves for my mark, too.
The trap was set just beyond. But, of course, that ain't sayin' we'll
find it there now."
"Not find the trap, do you say, Uncle Jim?" exclaimed Bandy-legs; "why,
whatever could happen to it?"
"If so be the bear came along and put his foot in, so them powerful jaws
they closed like a vise, I reckon he'd walk off with it," the trapper
replied.
"That's so, you didn't fasten the chain to a stake or a tree," said Owen.
"But I remember that you had a big clump of wood fixed to the end of the
chain; what was that for?" Bandy-legs asked.
"I k-k-know; that's the c-c-clog," Toby interrupted them to remark.
"Just what it was," Trapper Jim admitted.
"A clog, was it?" Bandy-legs continued; "but what's the use of it?"
"I'll explain," the other remarked; "when we set a bear trap we generally
fasten the chain to a heavy piece of wood. When Bruin shuffles off he
drags this after him. And in the course of time it weakens the old chap,
for he's losing blood all the time."
"That's kind of cruel; but go on, Uncle Jim," Owen remarked.
"I guess you're about right, son," said the other, "and there's lots
that's cruel about this trappin' business. But the women must have their
furs, and ever since Adam's time I reckon the animals has had to supply
covering for human beings. Eve thought it all over many a time, and I try
to be as humane in my work as anybody could."
"But there's another use for the clog, isn't there?" asked Max.
"To be sure there is," Trapper Jim replied. "You see, it drags on the
ground and leaves such a plain trail that any tenderfoot could foller
it."
"Then you really have no use for the dogs," spoke up Owen. "I supposed
they were going to lead us along the trail."
"Oh, they'll do that, all right," laughed the trapper; "but to tell the
truth I fetched 'em along for exercise and to keep them from getting
uneasy more'n anything else."
He stopped and appeared to be listening.
"Can you tell if he's there?" asked the wondering Bandy-legs.
"I can tell that he ain't there," replied the trapper. "It's all as still
as anything. That means either our bear didn't come along his trail after
we set the trap, or else he's come and carried it away with him."
"She's gone!" ejaculated Bandy-legs, as he craned his neck the better to
see the spot where, as he remembered, the big trap had been set, artfully
concealed, squarely in the track Bruin used in going to and fro from the
marsh to his chosen den, where he expected to hibernate during the coming
winter.
"You're correct, son," Trapper Jim declared. "The bear has been here and
walked off with my prize trap. Here's where the clog tore up the ground,
you see. I reckon now any one of you boys could follow them marks."
"With my lamps blindfolded," Steve ventured.
"Then come on with me. We ought to have bear steak for supper to-night,"
and holding on to the eager and straining Ajax, while Owen looked after
Don, the trapper led the pursuit.
Everywhere could be seen the plain marks where the weighty clog had
plowed into the ground when the trapped bear pulled it along after him.
As the trapper had said, the merest tyro could easily have followed such
a broad, blood-marked trail.
Sooner or later they must expect to come upon the bear unless he had been
able, through good luck, to reach his den ere now.
The excitement on the part of the two dogs grew more intense.
"We must be crawling upon him, I should think," Max remarked.
"Just what we're doing," the trapper replied, "and, unless I miss my
guess, we'll find him caught fast in this thicket just ahead. Slow up,
boys. There's no need of hurrying any more, for I think he's waiting up
for us right here."
With their hearts beating like trip hammers the boys now approached the
thicket into which the plain trail of the heavy clog seemed to plunge.