DANIEL BOONE’S GREAT SHOT
“Oh, Harmony, the boys are coming back!”
“So I see, Cora. What is that they are dragging on the snow behind
them?”
“Some game, I suppose. Mrs. Parsons, can you make it out?”
The Quakeress gave a long look.
“It looks to me as if ’twere a bear,” she answered slowly. “But we
shall soon know for certain, girls, so be patient.”
Throwing on their capes and hoods, Cora and Harmony rushed out of the
log cabin, and to the end of the path that had been shoveled through
the snow.
“It is a bear!” cried Harmony.
“And a big one, too!” put in her sister.
When the young pioneers reached the girls they were all but exhausted
over the long, hard pull.
“Oh, Joe, what a splendid success!” ejaculated Harmony. “Who brought
him down?”
“Both of us,” answered the brother. “And we had a hard time of it,
too, I can tell you. We hunted the bear and then he hunted us, and we
might not have had him at all only he got stuck fast between the rocks.”
The youths decided to bring the bear directly up to the cabin door.
Here Mrs. Parsons came out with a torch, for it was now dark.
“Thee has done well, my son,” said she. “And thee, too, Joseph. ’Twill
give us meat for many a long day to come.”
“And what a splendid robe the bear-skin will make,” came from Harmony.
The boys were too tired to skin and cut up the bear that night, so the
game was hauled into the cabin, and placed in the coldest corner the
building boasted. Then all the others bustled about to get the young
hunters a substantial supper.
And how good that meal tasted! It was well enough to camp in the open,
but nothing at all compared to what Mrs. Parsons and the girls were
able to set before them. They ate and ate, and in the meantime told of
their several adventures.
It was well for the lads that they were under a roof that night,
for with the setting of the sun the temperature began to drop
steadily until the night became one of the coldest Kentucky had ever
experienced. The wind arose and hummed, and shrieked through the trees
of the forest so that sound sleeping was almost out of the question.
“Had we remained in the woods we would have been frozen to death,” said
Joe, and Harry agreed with him.
Fortunately the bitter cold spell did not last over forty-eight hours,
and on the third day the sun came out as bright and warm as ever.
“We must get out to-day for those deer,” said Joe. “If we don’t go soon
some wild animals will get at them sure.”
The high winds had swept the rocks free of all loose snow, so traveling
was not as difficult as it had been. They went again on snowshoes, and
took their firearms as before.
“As we are not after any big game we can now shoot anything that
strikes our fancy,” said Joe, and on the way bagged several rabbits
and a wild turkey, while Harry knocked over several ruffled grouse, or
pheasants.
“Not a bad haul in itself,” said Joe, when their game bags were fairly
stuffed with their quarry. “Counting these, and the deer, and the bear,
I reckon we have done as well as many older hunters could do.”
On and on they went until, about noon, they came to the patch of forest
in which they had formerly camped.
“Here are some fresh tracks!” cried Harry, presently. “Some hunter has
been around here, either this morning or yesterday.”
“I don’t see anybody,” answered his companion, after a long look around.
“Nor do I.”
“Hope our deer are safe,” went on Joe, suddenly, remembering the
trouble they had had with Yellow Blanket.
They pushed on and soon reached the site of the former camp. The two
deer hung as they had left them, and the boys drew a long sigh of
relief.
“We got scared over nothing,” was Harry’s comment.
“But those tracks were there!”
“Oh, yes, plain enough.”
“Then the hunter must have turned in some other direction.”
“Yes; I couldn’t see the trail after passing over yonder rocks.”
The tree branches were thick in this vicinity, so that the boys could
see but little of what was above them. They set to work without delay,
and soon one deer was lowered to the ground and then the other. Then
two drags were cut down and the game was tied fast with ropes.
“Now for dinner and then for home,” said Joe. “By the time we get back
I reckon we’ll be as tired as we was when we hauled in the bear.”
The young pioneers had brought along some cooked food, so they did not
bother with starting up a fire. The tramp had kept them warm, and they
sat down on some rocks to eat their midday meal.
While they were eating they did not notice a dark form circling about
them and drawing closer and closer with every step. Yet such was the
fact, and the form was that of a brownish-black wolverene.
It may be remarked here that the wolverene, often known by the name of
glutton, is one of the wildest and fiercest beasts ever met with in any
North American forest. It is similar to a small bear in appearance,
but has a larger mouth and teeth and larger and sharper claws. It is a
great lover of raw meat, and will fight sometimes to the bitter end to
obtain what it desires. It has an especial fondness for the meat of the
deer and the beaver.
This wolverene had scented the two deer in the tree the day before and
all night long and during the morning it had tried to get at the meat,
but could not, on account of the swinging ropes. Now it saw the game
lying on the drags, and the young hunters several yards away, and it
was meditating a leap forward in an effort to secure at least part of
the longed-for prey.
Nearer and nearer came the beast, its eyes gleaming wickedly and its
cruel jaws working convulsively. It crawled on the ground with the
stealthiness of a panther.
When it was less than twenty feet away, Harry suddenly arose and walked
toward the game, to examine the deer heads, to see if they would be
worth preserving.
The wolverene saw the movement and its hopes of getting at the coveted
prey sank. Then it grew furious at the advance of the young hunter
and crouched still lower, with the intention of leaping straight for
Harry’s throat.
All unconscious of his danger, Harry turned around, and then for the
first time saw what he was facing. At the same instant the tail of the
wolverene gave a swish, and the beast rose high into the air as it
leaped for Harry’s throat.
But the wolverene never landed as expected. While it was yet in
mid-air, the report of a rifle echoed through the forest and the beast
fell to the ground with a strange snapping and snarling, and then of a
sudden stretched itself out in death.
“Oh!” It was all Harry could say for the time being. He gazed at the
wolverene in a dazed sort of way.
“Harry!” burst out Joe, and ran forward, rifle in hand. “A wolverene,
and dead, too! How did you do it?”
“I--I didn’t do it, Joe.”
“But he is shot--right through the left eye,” went on Joe.
“So I see. But I haven’t any gun with me. Mine is over on the rock.”
“Fetched him, didn’t I?” came in a clear voice, from the trees behind
the young hunters, and turning swiftly they found themselves confronted
by Daniel Boone, whose long rifle was still smoking from the shot.
“So you shot him, Colonel Boone?” said Harry.
“I did, lad. It was a hard shot too, I admit--firing right over your
shoulder at him. If the rifle had swung around you might have got the
ball in the neck.”
“You--you saved my life, colonel.”
“We won’t speak of that, lad. I’m glad I came up in time. I was out
hunting myself, just for the fun of it, and I saw you coming this way
and thought I’d find out if you had had any luck. That wolverene must
have been all-fired hungry, to come at you in that fashion. But the
deer meat worried him, I suppose.”
It was some time before Harry could get over his scare, and the party
of three sat down on the rocks to compare notes. Daniel Boone had
brought down three deer since early morning, and had placed them where
he could send out other hunters to bring them in later on.
“There are only a few wolverenes left around here,” he said. “I doubt
if you are troubled by any more of them, but after this you had better
be on guard all the time.”
“I will be,” answered Harry.
“Is the meat good for anything?” questioned Joe.
“Some of the old-time hunters eat it,” answered Daniel Boone. “I never
did. Better leave it for the wolves,” and this they did, after cutting
off the long, white claws, which Boone told them were valuable, the
Indians thinking more of such things than of money in making a trade.
The two young hunters were glad enough to have Daniel Boone accompany
them home, and the great hunter willingly helped them along with their
drags. He was much interested in the story about the big bear.
“You are both doing well,” he said. “In fact, I doubt if any old
hunters in these parts have done better.”
[Illustration: “THE REPORT OF A RIFLE ECHOED THROUGH THE FOREST.”--P.
200.]
They asked him if he had heard anything more of the expedition that
had moved westward in search of the Indian captives.
“Not a word,” replied Daniel Boone. “And I don’t expect to hear
anything until spring. Nobody is going to travel very far in such
weather as this, in a country where there isn’t anything better than an
Indian or a buffalo trail.”
“I don’t care how long we have to wait, if only when the news comes it
is good news,” said Joe soberly.
“I suppose you miss your mother a good bit, lad. Well, I can’t say as I
blame you. A good mother is the best blessing a boy ever had.”
“And I miss my sister,” came from Harry.
“That is the one bad feature of moving into the Indian country, boys.
It is bad enough to be wounded in a fight, but it is far worse to have
those we love carried off to we don’t know where, and treated we don’t
know how.”
“Has Red Feather said anything more?” asked Joe.
“No. He is waiting patiently for his release.”
“Don’t you suppose he will go on the warpath as soon as you let him go?”
“Perhaps. But if he does I shall hunt him down and have no mercy on
him.”
“I wish all the fighting would come to an end,” said Harry, with a
sigh. “I think I’d just like to have a few years at quiet farming and
nothing else.”
“It would be nice, but I am afraid we are a long way from that yet,”
answered Daniel Boone. And he was right, as later events on the
bloodstained soil of Kentucky proved.