SURPRISING BRUIN--_Conclusion_.
"WHOOP!" shouted Steve, as he made a headlong plunge in the direction of
the cabin door, closely followed by the other two.
Of course all of them were after their guns, and it hardly seemed five
seconds to Toby, panting without, ere his companions were tumbling
pellmell through the cabin door again, each clutching his favorite
weapon.
"Lead us to him, Toby!" commanded Steve, arrogantly.
"Yes, show us the big hulking beast that devoured your fish, Toby," said
Bandy-legs, "we'll fix it up with him. I'm no slouch of a bear killer
myself."
"Aw, rats!" scoffed Steve. "This ain't one of your docile trapped bear
kind, Bandy-legs. This one can run like all get-out. If he ever starts
after you, it's dollars to doughnuts you'd never get away on them short
pins of yours."
"Can bears climb trees?" asked Bandy-legs, nervously.
"Well, I should say yes, black bears especially. They live half the time
up in trees," replied Steve, who was pushing on just behind Toby himself.
Whereupon Bandy-legs discreetly allowed Max to pass him also. Since
Nature had placed a serious handicap on him when dealing out those short
legs, it seemed only right that he should be allowed a little extra
distance. Then, in case the hungry fish-eating bear did see fit to charge
them, all of the boys would be placed upon something like an equal
footing.
Toby was furious by now.
He might have been simply frightened at the time he made his appearance
before the cabin, but that feeling was rapidly giving way to anger. And
bursting almost with indignation, he had to try and express himself to
his comrades, despite the impediment in his speech, which was always
worse when Toby grew excited.
"B-b-been all the b-b-blessed m-m-mornin' a-c-c-coaxin' them p-p-pickerel
to t-t-take hold, and h-h-here that b-b-bloomin' old c-c-crocodile of a
b-b-bear had to s-s-swallow h-h-half of 'em in one b-b-big b-b-bite!"
Max chuckled as he listened. He even found time to wonder whether Toby,
if pressed, knew what sort of animal he meant by a "crocodile of a bear."
But then a good deal of allowance must be made for a stuttering boy, and
especially when he has a grievance as big as the one Toby shouldered.
"There's the pond ahead," cried Steve; "now show us your old bear."
"Come this way," said Toby. "I g-g-guess he's eat up all my s-s-string;
and now he's hunting f-f-f or the can of b-b-bait."
He led them into a thick part of the wood.
"L-l-look!" whispered Toby, pointing.
"It is a bear, as sure as you live!" exclaimed Max.
"C-c-course it is," Toby went on; "w-w-what'd you think m-m-made me run?
G-g-guess I know a s-s-stump when I see one."
Max held the impetuous Steve back.
"Wait," he said, "and let's all fire together. This bear isn't held by a
trap, and if you only wound him there'd be a pretty kettle of fish."
"Ain't no f-f-fish left; he's d-d-devoured even my b-b-bait, the old
glutton!" bellowed Toby, shaking his fist toward the bear.
Bruin evidently had enjoyed his unexpected meal immensely. Likely enough
he had never before in all his life been offered a fish dinner gratis.
Perhaps some of these other two-legged creatures that drew near, holding
the funny sticks in their hands, might offer him another nice mess of
pickerel fresh caught.
So the bear stood there on the edge of the pond watching them approach,
as though not a particle afraid, only curious--and still fish hungry.
"See him licking his lips, would you!" cried Bandy-legs, still in the
rear.
"L-l-liked 'em so m-m-much, he w-w-wants m-m-more, hang him!"
"We'll give him some cold lead instead," declared Steve, holding his
double-barrel ready so he could shoot from the left shoulder; "see if
he'll be able to digest it."
"He'll die just now, anyhow, if all of us nail him," remarked Max,
laughing at the way the bear stood there watching them spread out like a
fan.
"Aren't we close enough. Max?" asked Bandy-legs, who was nearly twice as
far away as the two bolder spirits,
"Yes," piped up Steve, "let's get to work. You count three, Max; and
remember, Bandy-legs, don't you dare shoot till you hear him say 'three'
plain as dirt."
"But, Steve," said Max.
"What d'ye want?" grumbled the other, trembling with eagerness to begin
operations.
"I hope you've only got one hammer raised," continued Max. "It'd be
pretty tough if you fired both barrels again, and lamed your left
shoulder, too."
"Cracky! I guess you're right, Max. Wait a few seconds till I set one
hammer down. I ain't going to take the chances. Shooting left-handed's
bad enough, but what'd I do if I lamed that arm, too!"
"Try it w-w-with your l-l-legs!" observed Toby.
"All ready!" called out Max.
"Q-q-quick! He's m-m-moving off!" shouted Toby.
"All the better," said Max, coolly. "We can get a good aim at his side
now; just back of the shoulder, remember, Bandy-legs!"
"C-c-count!" begged Toby, who hated to think of the bold fish robber
getting off scot-free after his recent raid.
The bear was ambling off. Perhaps he had come to the wise conclusion that
too much fish at one time was bad for a bear's digestion. And then,
again, he did not altogether like the looks of all these queer two-legged
creatures with those crooked black sticks which they kept poking out at
him.
He would not run away, because, of course, he was not really afraid; but
even a bear might be allowed to conduct a masterly retreat.
"One!" called out Max.
The three guns were leveled.
"Two!"
Then cheeks pressed the stocks and eyes glanced along the tubes, while
itching fingers began to play with waiting triggers.
"Three!"
It was almost the roar of a cannon that followed. Three guns had spoken
almost in the same breath.
"H-h-he's g-g-gone!" yelped Toby, who could see better than any of the
others, because no little puff of white powder smoke obscured his vision.
A tremendous thrashing in the water told them that the wounded bear must
have toppled over into the partly frozen pond.
"Look out for him!" cried Max.
He had ejected the used cartridge from his magazine rifle with one quick
motion. Another sent a fresh one into the firing chamber.
Steve had drawn back the second hammer of his gun, and in this fashion
then the two chums advanced straight toward the spot where they had last
seen the bear.
Bandy-legs, more cautious, kept farther off, though he, too, aimed to
reach the border of the little lake, in order to see what was going on.
"Got him!" whooped Steve, when he discovered that the bear was evidently
fatally wounded, and fell back into the water every time he tried to
climb the bank.
It was Max who thought to mercifully put an end to the stricken beast's
sufferings by another well-directed shot from his rifle.
The bear was now dead. Even Toby put in his claim to a partnership in
bringing about its demise. The right of first discovery rested with him,
and he was ready to take up a defense of his claim at any time.
So, in order to avoid all bad feelings, and insure peace in the family
hereafter, Max declared that the honor should be jointly shared by tie
whole four of them.
"Whenever we speak of 'our' bear, you'll know which one we mean," he
remarked; "and, now, the next thing is to get the old chap up on dry
land."
Securing some rope and a couple of blocks he had seen at the cabin,
doubtless used when Trapper Jim wanted to haul logs, or with one man's
power do a three-man job, Max fashioned a block and tackle.
With this they easily got the bear up the bank.
Then Max tried his hand at removing the skin, after which he cut up the
bear, with Steve's assistance. And before Trapper Jim and Owen got back
from setting a dozen more muskrat traps, as well as attending to those
that had been neglected on the preceding day, everything needful had been
done.
Great indeed was the surprise of Trapper Jim when he finally arrived,
tired and likewise hungry, to smell cooking bear steaks, and discover not
one bear skin stretched out properly to cure, but two.
The last one had been somewhat torn where the various leaden missiles had
passed through. But the trapper assured the boys that if placed in the
hands of a good fur dealer it could be easily sewed up, and would make
them an elegant rug for their club room,
"Every time you walk on it you'll remember this delightful little
vacation spent with Trapper Jim in the North Woods," he declared.
"And it will always have just a faint fishy smell to me, because the
rascal ate up all Toby's morning catch before we got him," remarked Max.
"S-s-say, we had f-f-fish for s-s-supper last night, didn't we?" demanded
Toby.
"That's right, we did," spoke up Steve, "and right sweet pickerel, too,
thanks to the one who stuck it out all afternoon watching his poles and
keeping one eye on the woods for the mate of our bear to appear. Oh, they
were nice, all right! And I just dote on pickerel, all but the boot-jack
bones."
It can be safely assumed that they were a merry crowd that night.
The boys, realizing that their period for fun up in those glorious North
Woods had been extended another week, were bubbling over with joy.
Trapper Jim had everything to make him contented, and even happy. Every
time he touched that elegant fox skin he felt like shaking hands with
himself because of the satisfaction it gave him--not so much the value of
the pelt as the proud consciousness that he had finally been enabled to
capture another of those rare and almost priceless prizes which every fur
taker dreams about.
And then, again, doubtless Uncle Jim found great reason for thankfulness
every time he glanced toward Ed Whitcomb. What had been a vague,
half-formed dream in his mind bade fair to become a reality. He was
Susie's boy, and circumstances had thrown them together in a way so
strange that it was surely intended that they should part no more.
As for the wounded man, although he might often deep down in his heart
deplore the weakness that had taken possession of him at sight of the
captured silver fox, still, since it had brought Jim and him together,
and revealed a new and entirely unsuspected bond between them, why should
he regret it.
Besides, Trapper Jim declared he owed the fox skin to Ed, anyhow. He had
discovered that the animal had gnawed its foot almost off, and long
before Jim and the boys came along would have gone limping off on three
legs only that Ed appeared just in time to knock it on the head.
With nearly two weeks ahead of them, it was only natural that Max and his
four chums should anticipate other glorious times. And that they met with
no disappointment in this respect the reader who has followed them thus
far with interest will discover when he reads the next volume of the
series:
"CAUGHT IN A FOREST FIRE."
THE END.