Chris Lee's bed that night was a contrivance of his own. It was between
two long pieces of rock, a narrow passage which, after taking the axe to
lop them off, he filled full of aromatic pine branches. These lay close
and were elastic and yielding. Over them he stretched a blanket, upon
which he rolled another piece of rock, which filled up one end of the
narrow passage, and there, snugly protected at head and sides, was the
delightful couch for a wholesomely tired lad, only wanting another
blanket to cover him if he felt chilly, or to be ready to throw off if
he found it warm.
Silence, darkness save for the glittering stars on high, sweet pure air,
and an excellent appetite for sleep, there was all he could desire, and
after laying his rifle and revolver ready and lifting his
cartridge-pouch and hunting-knife a little over the rocks to prevent
them from making dents in his sides, he said good-night to those near,
let his head sink down, gazed for a few minutes at a brilliant star in
the zenith which his father had told him was Aldebaran--one which he
recollected well from its unscientific name--the Bull's-eye, he closed
his own and began dreaming at once, but not pleasantly. The fact was
that he had eaten a very hearty supper and lain down to sleep very soon
afterwards, two rather foolish things to do if a calm and restful sleep
be sought.
Chris did not know why it was--the doctor told him afterwards--but he
began to dream soon afterwards of rattlesnakes. Not of such as he had
seen on the rocky slope, the largest of which did not exceed six feet in
length, but of dreamland rattlesnakes, monsters of twenty feet long, and
with bony tails which kept up a constant whirr previous to their owners
striking at that which they meant to destroy.
It was evident in the dream that they did not mean to destroy him, for
though they hovered over him with their heads playing up and down upon
their elastic necks, while their eyes glittered and their forked tongues
darted in and out of the opening in their jaws, they did not strike,
only kept him in a state of horror and suspense, till they made way for
one of the porcupines that had been named at supper-time. This came
quietly up to the foot of his bed, and walked up from his boots to his
knees, with its black and white quills lying down as smoothly as if they
formed so much excessively coarse hair. But then as the creature
continued its walk, to be soon upon the boy's chest, it seemed to get
into a violent passion, setting up its quills at all angles and rattling
them together till it seemed about to dash at him. But instead of doing
anything obnoxious it suddenly disappeared before the advance of a
skunk, which came trotting up his body from his feet, just after the
same fashion as the porcupine, but looking fiercely aggressive, in spite
of the beauty of its clean, glossy, black and white fur. Its eyes
gleamed and sparkled; it showed its glistening sharp white teeth, and
waving its erect tail, which curved over its back like a squirrel's, it
twitched in the same way, and seemed every moment about to make a rush
at the boy's face to inflict one of its dangerously poisonous bites,
while the twitching tail threatened the discharge of the horribly
offensive fluid which will send a determined dog yelling plaintively,
as, completely cowed, it beats a retreat.
It seemed an hour of expectancy for what did not come off, and all the
time the sleeper lay half-conscious in the painful experience, telling
himself that it was all fancy, for it was only a dream.
This was just as he was about to recover full consciousness, for the
skunk gradually died away from where it had seemed to be standing upon
his chest, and Chris lay wide awake with his heart beating, painfully
wide awake now, and with every nerve on the strain, as he listened and
tried to make out the meaning of a strange heavy breathing mingled with
a sniffing, snuffling which came from somewhere at the back of his head.
Chris's first thought was of springing up out of the trough-like
bed-place he had selected and escaping by the foot; but before he could
put this into effect there was a rustling sound on the big piece of rock
he had jammed in behind his head, and though he could see nothing he
could feel that something had stepped up on to the stone and was bending
over him; the snuffling breathing grew louder, and, to his horror, he
felt a puff of hot breath full in his face.
There was no springing up now. An icy feeling chilled him, and he lay
perfectly motionless, unable to stir, and feeling as if he had suddenly
sunk into another dream--a nightmare this, by which he was completely
fettered.
His rifle lay on one side, loaded; his revolver was on the other, and
within reach of his hand; but he could not lift a finger, only stare
upward with his eyes fixed upon the stars, which now seemed to be
eclipsed by something dark passing between his face and them and
remaining perfectly motionless for a few seconds. Then it passed onward
and he could see the stars again, conscious the while that whatever the
creature might be that had visited him it was now standing or sitting
upon the long rock, to his left, breathing hard, with its head very near
his own, and that, apparently dissatisfied with its position, or uneasy,
it raised itself up and stepped over to the other side of the bed,
forming what looked faintly like a black arch before the hind-legs
followed the fore and it began to shuffle about uneasily upon the rock
to the boy's right. Then there was a scraping sound, and something fell
with a thump on to the listener's chest and slipped down between the
rock and his ribs.
Chris's heart had ceased its heavy beating, but at this point it gave a
tremendous bound which seemed to give him a momentary feeling of
resolution and strength; but momentary only. He could not stir even
now, only think, and listen to the creature upon the rock as it uttered
a peculiar whining sound, followed by a deep grunt.
Then all was still, as if the animal had been slightly alarmed and was
now listening.
"If I stir," thought Chris--for he knew what his visitant must be--"if I
stir it will seize me with its claws and bury its teeth in my throat.
Oh, it is hard!"
For he knew what had happened: the bear had in changing its position
upon the long piece of rock disturbed the revolver lying there, and
knocked it off on to the sleeper's chest, from which it had glided down
between his ribs and the rock to lie close to his hand, where he could
not seize it for his defence without rousing the animal to an attack
before he could cock the pistol and fire.
The position was horrible, for Chris felt that the monster must be a
grizzly, one of the fiercest and most powerful beasts that roam the
forest, and though so much help was close at hand, it seemed to the boy
that it might as well be a mile away, for he dared not--no, not dared,
but simply could not--utter a sound.
How long this agony lasted he could not tell, but all the time he felt a
strange combination of sensations, for it was as if his body was turned
to ice, his head was on fire, and hot and cold together he was melting
away.
He could see dimly the bulky dark figure of his visitant, but he judged
that it could see him plainly, for it kept on moving about uneasily, and
twice over changed its position from one rock to the other, bridging
them over, and then sitting up as if listening, before coming down
softly on all fours again, to stretch out its neck and begin sniffing at
him from end to end.
At last, when a horrible feeling of faintness was creeping up from head
to brain, a thrill ran through the boy, for a great paw was stretched
out, touched him on the breast, and he felt the claws catch in the right
side of his jacket as he was lifted up a little with a strange scraping
sound against the rock, and something rolled over on to his chest as he
was lowered down again, and then rolled back against his right-hand.
The shuffling sound began again, and as if to claw him out of the narrow
trench-like place in which he lay, the bear reached out once more,
thrusting its great paw down between him and the rock, and with the
claws right under him began to lift him out.
Chris felt himself rising slowly, and knew that the next thing would be
that he would be seized by the animal's teeth and slowly carried off to
his lair.
But a change had come over the lad in those moments, ever since the
first movement had sent something on to his chest to roll back against
his hand. For that something was the revolver, about whose butt Chris's
fingers closed, and as the bear's shuffling had raised him up there was
a _click, click_ of the lock, a movement of the boy's wrist which
directed the muzzle of the little piece upward, and then in an agony of
desperation his right finger pressed the trigger and there was a sharp
echoing report, followed by a furious yell and crash which was followed
by a call for help, and the voice of Wilton.
"Who fired that shot?" he shouted.
"I did," gasped Chris, who had scrambled to his feet, trembling in every
limb.
"Who called for help?" shouted Griggs.
"I! Help!" came again.
"That you, Bourne?" said the doctor.
"Yes," came in a choking voice as of some one being suffocated.
"Oh, it's father!" shrieked Ned, and he rushed in the direction of the
sound, just as there was a snarling, worrying sound and the breaking of
wood as if a heavy body was rushing among the trees.
"Ah!" came in Bourne's voice, loudly. "No, my boy, not hurt, but I
thought I was gone."
The speaker was the centre of a little group now, two of whom struck
matches, and Wilton produced a lanthorn, which was lit and held up, to
disclose the face of Bourne, covered with blood, and his jacket hanging
down below his waist, literally ripped up.
"Help him to lie down," said the doctor anxiously. "Now, old fellow,
tell me, where are you wounded?"
"Only in my jacket, I hope," was the reply, given cheerfully enough.
"Who shot the brute?"
"I did," said Chris.
"You?" cried Griggs. "Then it was not you, Mr Bourne?"
"I? No! I was woke up by the shot, and coming to see, when I was
knocked down by the brute. It fell on me, pinning me to the ground,
kicking and struggling the while. I thought I should have been
smothered. Is this its blood all over me?"
"Yes, if you are not torn."
"I'm not hurt that I know of. One of its fangs caught me somewhere
about the collar and tore my jacket right down to the waist."
"No, you can't be wounded," said the doctor, "or you wouldn't talk like
that. Here, Chris, you say you fired?"
"Yes, father," said the boy, and he hurriedly related his experience.
"What an escape for you both!" cried the doctor. "The brute must have
been desperately wounded by your pistol-shot, Chris, my boy. You hit
him hard."
"Couldn't very well miss him at that distance, sir," said Griggs dryly.
"The brute's lying somewhere about. Look out, every one, for he'll be
pretty dangerous."
"He must have gone ever so far," cried Ned, "for I heard the trees
breaking for long enough. But are you quite sure you're not hurt,
father?"
"Not a bit, my boy; I only want a wash and another jacket. Ugh! This
blood is horrible. But I say, Wilton, you're a pretty sort of a fellow
to keep guard while we slept!"
"Oh, I was on the lookout for Indians. You didn't say anything about
bears. What was this one--a grizzly, Griggs?"
"Didn't see it, neighbour, but I shouldn't think it was. Black one or
brown one, I should say. Cinnamon, p'r'aps."
"Why not a grizzly?"
"Because he wouldn't have taken a shot in him so quietly. He'd be
rampaging about here ready to tear us all to pieces."
"Hadn't we better try and follow up the brute with the lanthorn?"
"I should say not," was the reply. "If he's only wounded he must be
lying up savage-like, and as soon as he sees the light he'll show fight.
If he's badly hurt he may have gone on till he drops, and be nearly
dead by now."
"But we can't lie down and go to sleep again after this."
"Well, no, sir," said Griggs coolly; "it don't sound tempting."
"Then you would try and track the brute?"
"Yes, when the sun's up, sir."
"But what shall we do now?"
"Well," said the American, as coolly as could be, "seems to me that this
is just a nice suitable time to sit round the lanthorn and tell bear
stories."
"What!" cried the doctor.
"Tell bear stories, sir. Young Chris here might begin by telling his
experience over again with all the flourishes, crosses, and dots that he
left out. He didn't half tell it, I think."
"Oh, that's absurd," said Wilton. "By the way, though, I didn't hear a
sound till Chris fired."
"Hadn't dropped asleep, had you?" said Griggs banteringly.
"No, certainly not," said Wilton, angrily.
"Here, every one look to his rifle," said the doctor, "and we'll sit
together and watch and listen. The brute may come back."
This was done in silence for some time, when their patience getting
exhausted, remarks were made about the ponies and mules, and wonder was
expressed about their not having stampeded.
"Say," said Griggs suddenly, "I forgot all about them. Where are they?"
"Feeding about somewhere, quietly," said the doctor.
"I don't know so much about that," cried Griggs. "P'r'aps one of you
will come with me and the lanthorn, and we'll see. I can't hear any of
them grass-chopping. Will you come with me, Chris, or have you been too
much shook up?"
"Oh, I'll come," said Chris quietly. "I don't think I've been too much
`shook up.'"
In a few minutes the lanthorn was seen lighting up the rocks and trees
in the direction of the best pasturage, where the cattle had been left;
and those left in camp watched till it disappeared, waiting anxiously
till the light was in sight again, and finally came up to where the
glowing embers kept on brightening and dying out again as the soft
breeze blew down the gully from time to time.
"Can't see or hear anything of the animals," said Griggs, at last, as he
strode up with the light. "Ain't heard any more of Mr B'ar, have you?"
"No," was the reply.
"They were scared off by the shooting, I expect, or else by getting a
sniff of the b'ar's wound."
"Would they go far?" asked the doctor.
"Can't say, sir, but not so far that we can't follow them by their
trail."
"It's a great nuisance, just when we had decided to make an early start
in the morning. Now everything depends upon our finding the animals and
bringing them back."
There was of course no more sleep that night, neither, much as it was
expected, was there any return of the visitor of the night during the
long hours of the watch.
But the morning broke at last, and as soon as it was light enough the
party began to follow the trail of the bear, starting from the spot
where Bourne had his alarming adventure, the traces of which were plain
enough, the earth and growth being torn up by the brute's claws. From
there the spots of blood which had fallen from the bear's wound were
plain enough at intervals, and they were followed for about a quarter of
a mile, where the animal had plunged into the dense forest, where the
trees and undergrowth presented a front that could not be penetrated by
a human being, though comparatively easy for a quadruped.
Further pursuit was given up, and the party returned to follow up the
trail of the ponies and mules.
This was found at once, the animals, obeying their gregarious instinct,
having, after being alarmed, closed in together for mutual protection
and made off down the gully to the open country and the plains.
Griggs took the lead from old experience of such accidents, and pointed
out how the frightened beasts had galloped frantically for miles, then,
pretty well exhausted, subsided to a trot, which had been kept up for
several more before their progress became a walk, with halts here and
there for grazing. In fact, it was several hours before the poor brutes
were sighted right out on the salt plain, and when overtaken and headed
off on the return journey, not even a single mule seemed to make the
slightest objection, for they all closed up into a drove and walked
steadily back, every animal with roughened coat stiffened by dust and
ready to hang its head with the look of one which had done enough work
for one day.
It was not until the afternoon that the dreary tramp back brought the
party in sight of their last night's camp, and that was not reached
until close upon sundown, a long halt having been necessary to water the
weary beasts and let them graze.
"I don't think we're going to make much of a start to-day, Griggs," said
Chris, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I know I'm not, squire," said the American. "It seems a shame to
neglect human beings for the sake of horses, but it has to be done.
Here, I meant to have a few birds for a roast this evening, and now it's
only tea and fried bacon. But it might be worse, eh?"
"Ever so much," replied Chris. "But I am hungry."
"I say," said Ned, laughingly, "oughtn't some of us to go again and try
to find the bear, while the others light the fire and boil the kettle?"
"No," said Chris. "We had enough bear last night."
"Yes," said Ned, "but that was live bear; I meant slices of him to
frizzle in the pan. Griggs says bear's ham is good."
"So it is, squire, and if we had a haunch of the brute I'd set you an
example to eat it."
"What does it taste like?" said Chris.
"Well, it's rather hard to say. A good fat bear's ham looks rather like
a bit of a pig salted and dried; but it doesn't taste like it a bit."
"Like what, then?" cried Chris.
"Something like a mutton ham that has been trying to make-believe that
it had grown on a pig's hind-quarters. 'Tain't bad, but don't you two
get letting your mouths water, because you'll get none to-night. It's
tea and cake and a bit o' bacon. That's our tackle this time, and very
glad I shall be to get even that."
In another hour they were quietly enjoying the simple meal, during which
the doctor said--
"An early start in the morning, boys. You'll be able to sleep to-night,
Chris, without dreaming about porcupines and skunks, which were all
consequences of indigestion and the later supper."
"But the bear wasn't, father," said Chris quickly.
"Well, no," said the doctor dryly; "we'll leave out the bear."
"You ought to include it in your lesson on indigestion, though," said
Bourne, giving himself a rub. "I didn't eat too heartily last night,
but I suffered horribly from bear lying heavily upon my chest."
"My watch to-night," said the doctor; and soon after the camp was once
more in a state of repose, but Chris Lee had chosen a different position
for his bed.