THE HUNTERS HUNTED
With the rising of the sun the young pioneers felt once more like
themselves. The dangers of the night were past, and they imagined that
but little could come to disturb them until darkness had once again set
in.
“It has got to be a bear to-day,” said Harry. “If it isn’t I shall be
much disappointed.”
“Reckon we’ll have to take what comes,” answered Joe. Still he wanted
to bring down a bear as much as did his chum.
They resolved to strike out to the westward, over the ridge and toward
a hill topped with a heavy growth of timber. Here was a series of rough
rocks which, according to Harry’s idea, would make an ideal hiding
place for a bear.
They set out on their snowshoes, and it was not long before the ridge
was gained, and then they started directly for the hill, at a point
where there was something of a gorge or gully, where in the summer time
flowed a deep brook. But this watercourse was now frozen over, and the
surface was covered with snow ten feet in depth.
A light breeze was blowing, otherwise the weather was as it had been
the day before. The way up the hill was rather hard, and having reached
the top they were glad enough to sit down on a fallen tree and rest.
Thus quarter of an hour went by, and they were on the point of resuming
their journey when Joe caught sight of something moving through the
timber on the other side of the hill.
“Harry, what do you make out that to be?” he whispered.
His chum took a careful look.
“I believe it’s a bear!”
“That is just what I was thinking.”
“If it’s a bear, how are we to get up to him?”
“We had better skulk along behind the trees. I can go to the right, and
you can go to the left. But don’t fire until you are sure of what you
are aiming at.”
“All right.”
With their guns before them the two young hunters left the vicinity of
the fallen log, and proceeded in the direction of the object. They soon
separated a distance of a hundred feet.
It was not long before Joe made out the object to be a black bear
beyond any doubt. The big fellow was lumbering along clumsily as if
either tired or wounded. As a matter of fact he had been in a fight
with some other wild animals the day before, and had received severe
nips in the shoulder and the left foreleg.
It was not long before the bear saw that he was being pursued, and then
he started off on something of a gallop through the snow, sending the
latter flying in all directions.
“Fire on him!” shouted Joe, and let drive, followed immediately by his
companion.
Both shots took effect, but neither was serious, and they only caused
the bear to utter a savage roar of pain and rage. He turned as if to
attack Harry.
“Look out, he is coming for you!” yelled Joe, who was reloading with
all possible speed.
At the sound of his voice the bear turned and, seeing Joe, paused. Then
he changed his course.
“He is coming for you!” screamed Harry. “Get out of the way, unless you
want to be hugged to death!”
Joe had scarcely time enough to throw some powder and a bullet into his
rifle, and fix the priming, when the huge black beast made a leap for
him. Crack! went the firearm, and the bear was struck on the side of
the neck. With a snort of pain he stopped once more, then turned and
hurried away as before.
By the time Harry was ready to fire again the bear was out of reach
of his gun, behind a growth of trees and brushwood. He was keeping to
a stretch of ground swept clear of snow by the wind. When the boys
reached the timber he had disappeared in the vicinity of a pile of
rocks.
“More than likely his den is in there,” said Joe. “We want to go slow
now, or we’ll fall into a trap.”
The tracks of the bear were plainly to be seen. They led over the very
roughest of the rocks, where it was utterly impossible to follow with
snowshoes.
“We’ll have to take the shoes off and strap them to our backs,” said
Joe, and this they did, keeping an eye open for the black bear in the
meantime.
The rocks were covered with slippery ice, and both had not progressed
far before they began to slide in one direction or another.
“Take care,” said Harry. “Give me your hand,” and they moved forward
holding tightly to each other.
All might have gone well had not the bear suddenly appeared when least
expected. This caused the young pioneers to start back, and both lost
their balance and slipped from the rocks to an opening far below.
“Help! help!” cried Harry, and then plunged into a snowbank, with Joe
after him.
When the boys recovered from the shock, they found themselves under the
side of a large sloping rock. In front of them was the snowbank that
had probably saved each from a broken neck. Behind them was a rough
opening, leading partly between and partly under the rock.
“Are yo--you all--all right?” panted Joe, when he could catch his
breath.
“I--I reck--reckon so,” was the answer. “I--I aint sure yet,” and Harry
shook himself to find out if any bones were broken.
“It looks to me as if the bear was hunting us instead of us hunting the
bear,” went on Joe grimly.
“Do you see anything of him now?”
“No.”
Harry had lost his gun in the snow, and it took a minute to find this
and put on a fresh priming. Then both kept a sharp lookout for the
bear, but the animal did not appear.
“What shall we do next?” asked Joe, rather blankly.
“Well, one thing is certain, Joe, we can’t stay down here all day.”
“Do you think the bear is up there above us?”
“I shouldn’t be surprised.”
After another wait Joe proceeded to explore the opening behind them. He
found it of no great depth, with a passageway leading upward between
two of the larger rocks.
Just as he made this discovery he made another, more important. The
black bear was squeezing his way downward through the passageway!
“He is coming down after us, Harry!”
“Where?”
“Back here! Come, let us both give him another shot!”
Joe already had his gun leveled, and he blazed away the moment his chum
was beside him. Harry followed suit, filling the small opening with
dense smoke.
A roar followed the shots, ringing loudly in their ears in that
confined space. As they could no longer see the bear they took no
chances, but leaped back into the snowbank, and then began to scramble
up the rocks as fast as they could. Joe reached the top first, and gave
a willing hand to his companion.
The first work of the young pioneers was to reload once more. In the
meanwhile they heard several roars and grunts from the bear, the sound
reaching them as from under the ground.
“If he backs out, we can give him two more shots in his hind quarters,”
said Harry. “Those ought to finish him unless he is as tough as sole
leather.”
They waited for the appearance of the bear, but the animal did not show
himself. Something like a prolonged grunt came up to them, and after
that all was quiet.
“Do you think we really killed him after all?” came from Harry, as he
attempted to look into the opening from the top.
“It’s possible. But let us wait a while, and see if he makes another
move.”
Five--ten--fifteen minutes passed, and at last they came to the
conclusion that the game must be either dead or mortally wounded.
“I’m going to poke into the hole and see,” said Joe. “I’ll do it with
the muzzle of the gun, so if he has turned around he’ll get the ball
directly down his throat.”
With caution he approached the opening, and poked down into it with his
firearm. At first he could feel nothing. Then he grew more daring, and
crawled down several feet.
“Here he is,” he cried, a moment later. “He seems to be stuck fast
between the rocks, and I reckon he is stone-dead.”
Growing bolder, both went as far into the opening as possible. They
found the bear wedged in tightly, and he uttered no sound when shoved
sharply with the gun barrels, or when stabbed with Harry’s hunting
knife.
“He’s dead, sure enough,” said Harry. “But we might as well crawl down
the rocks again, and take a look at him from the front.”
Instead of crawling down, each took a leap into the snowbank. They felt
strangely elated over bringing the bear low, and now approached him
boldly, yet with their guns once more ready for use.
But there was no need for further fear. The game was dead beyond all
doubt, and had probably died when they heard the last groan from him.
“He is ours!” cried Harry. “And what a big fellow he is, too.”
“It’s a great haul, Harry.”
“I reckon the haul is still to come, Joe. We’ll have to yank him out of
that hole somehow.”
“Or bring up a horse to do it,” was the gay answer. Both of the boys
felt like whistling and singing over their luck. And small wonder, for
to bring down such game was not an everyday occurrence.
After inspecting the situation, both came to the conclusion that the
easiest way of getting the bear out of the hole would be to haul him
forward to the front of the rocks, and then slide him along the snow
and over a patch of ice to where there was something of an incline
leading to the top of the hill.
It was hard work, and it took all of an hour to get the bear half the
distance. Both boys were perspiring freely, and very soon had to stop
for breath.
“We are earning this bear,” said Joe, while wiping his forehead. “I
never worked so hard before in my whole life.”
“That’s the fun of hunting,” answered Harry. “Of course, you wish the
bear was only half as large.”
“Do I? Not much! I want him just as big as he is. Won’t they be
surprised at home and at the fort when they hear of this?”
“It’s the biggest bear brought down, so far as I know.”
“After this I think we may as well start right for home.”
“I am willing.”
At the top of the hill they found a long and sweeping pine branch, and
of this made the best drag they could, and then fastened the bear on
top with withes.
“Now for a long and hard pull,” said Joe. “We must get him home
to-night. If we don’t the wolves may steal him from us.”
“What about the deer?”
“We can come back for them to-morrow.”
“But if some wildcats come at them in the meanwhile?”
“We’ve got to stand the risk of that.”
And then, after a lunch in the open, they started for home, dragging
their splendid prize after them.