Will Bertram’s expressive face must have betrayed to Mr. Hunter that
the stowaway was a friend, for that gentleman regarded Tom with a
critical, amused smile, and then asked Will:
“You know this boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who is he?”
“Tom Dalton. He is from Watertown, but how he came here is more than I
can tell.”
Tom stood sullenly regarding the curious men around him, half-cowering,
as if expecting the usual beating he had received on board the Golden
Moose for any delinquency.
“Come to the fire and warm yourself, and get something to eat,” said
Mr. Hunter, in a kindly tone, to the friendless runaway.
Tom crept to the camp-fire with a look of infinite relief. He evaded
Will’s glance sheepishly, and was entirely silent until the rude, but
plentiful, evening repast was finished.
Will was consumed with curiosity to learn by what strange series of
circumstances Tom had become a member of the wagon train, but no
opportunity presented itself to question him.
Mr. Hunter himself, however, took Tom in hand and drew from him the
story of his escapade.
Briefly related, it was to the effect that after the fire at the mill,
concerning which Will had spoken freely to Mr. Hunter, he had wandered
away from Watertown.
Tom remembered all Will had told him about the proposed expedition,
recalling even the location of the meeting place.
The temptations offered by the expected trip to the wilderness were too
much for Tom. He climbed into a wagon, and had lain snugly ensconced in
his hiding place until now.
“And what do you expect I’m going to do with you?” inquired Mr. Hunter.
“Let me work for you, sir,” responded Tom, promptly.
“Good! I will,” and, to the infinite delight of Tom, he was accepted as
a member of the caravan and assigned to a bunk in the same wagon with
Will.
The evening around the camp-fire, during which rare stories of
adventure held the boys spellbound, the jaunt through a strange
country, and the zest of anticipated pleasure when hunting and trapping
should begin, made the time pass rapidly to Will and Tom.
The history of each succeeding day tallied with its predecessor in
the main details of incident, except that the caravan was penetrating
farther and farther into the belt of the uninhabited territory where
their actual operations were to begin.
The weather had been clear and cold, but the rivers they passed, so
far, were free of ice, and the roads were not blocked with snow.
Mr. Hunter had predicted a change, and one evening it came. Since
morning they had passed only one solitary hut, and he explained that
they were entering a section of timber where some game might be found.
At any rate, the caravan was divided, and minute instructions given for
the future. Then the main party struck off into the wilderness.
The flakes began to fall thick and heavy as darkness came down. Mr.
Hunter expressed his satisfaction at this.
“If we have a heavy fall of snow and it continues cold,” he said, “it
will be just right for trapping. At any rate, we’ll stay here a day or
two and reconnoitre.”
No camp-fire was built that night, the men huddling around their stoves
in the living wagons.
It was cozy and warm for Will and Tom, but one of the drivers, whose
horses had got loose and had to be hunted up, reported a severe
experience.
“The snow’s getting terribly deep and blinding,” he said, “and, as I
came up to the horses, I’m sure I heard and saw a wolf.”
[Illustration]
“We’ll keep a watch on the horses, then,” said Mr. Hunter. “Are the
traps all ready for use?” he inquired of the man who had charge of the
equipment wagon.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well; we’ll devote to-morrow and the next day to a search for
animals. If the signs are plentiful we’ll make our first station here.”
Bright and early the two boys were awake and up. They found the ground
foot deep with snow, and the vast forests, now covered with a mantle of
white, presenting the aspect of a vast, untraversed wilderness.
Mr. Hunter joined them as they gathered a lot of wood for a fire, and
invited them to take a brief tour of inspection with him.
His practiced eyes passed by no marks in the snow, and whenever he came
to a series of tracks he examined them closely.
“Plenty of small animals,” he remarked; “and an occasional fox and
wolf.”
“What is this?” inquired Will.
He pointed to a deep, heavy furrow in the snow, which looked as if some
object had been dragged over its surface.
Mr. Hunter proceeded at once to follow the marks. Here and there a hole
like that made by a horse’s foot would appear outside of the smooth
indentation.
It led direct to a dark ravine, and terminated at a cave-like aperture
in a mound covered with stunted trees.
Here Mr. Hunter paused.
“You’ve made quite a discovery, Will,” he said.
“Is it an animal, sir?”
“Yes. Its footmarks are obscured by the object it seems to have been
dragging along by its mouth.”
“And you think it’s in the cave there?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“What is it--a wolf or fox?”
“No, a bear.”
The announcement excited both boys tremendously.
“Let’s catch him,” cried Tom.
Mr. Hunter smiled.
“He’d catch us if he saw us unarmed as we are. No, we’ll get back to
camp and get the traps out. Maybe by morning Mr. Bruin will walk into
the one we shall set for him.”
After breakfast there was a busy time among the men. At Mr. Hunter’s
direction traps and snares were set in various places, and Will and
Tom were employed in gathering tree moss and abandoned nests for the
aviary. A hawk and an owl were captured during the day, but it was the
following morning that Mr. Hunter expected to find quite a number of
animals in the traps baited over night.
The large bear trap left at the entrance to the cave was a great
objective point of interest to the boys, and they visited the spot
several times, hoping to be the first to announce the capture of bruin
should that important event occur.
They stood before the entrance to the cave late in the afternoon
regarding the set trap curiously.
“Do you see?” remarked Will, pointing to it.
“What?” inquired Tom.
“The meat is gone. It must be a cunning bear. He has sniffed the bait
and cautiously eaten it off without putting his feet in.”
It certainly seemed that what Will said was true, for the marks of
the animal’s feet could be traced in the snow that had blown into the
entrance to its den.
Will left Tom at the place and announced his intention of going around
the mound.
He made a new discovery as he came to the other side of the mound. A
double track in the snow led to and from a clump of bushes, and these
latter were brushed aside and broken as if recently passed over.
Will thrilled at his discovery. The cave had two entrances, and the
bear, too keen-witted to step into the trap, was using this one as a
means of entrance and exit.
“I believe I’ll have a look into the place,” murmured Will.
He parted the brushes and found a large aperture looking down into
complete darkness.
Will’s curiosity overcame his prudence, and there being no indication
of the presence of the bear, he withdrew his head, and, cutting a
large, resinous knot from a tree near at hand, proceeded to ignite it
with a match.
When it flared up sufficiently, he again approached the rear opening
to the cave, brushed aside the bushes, and extended it far into the
darkness.
Its radiance showed the clay floor of the cave a few feet below.
Straining his eyes to pierce the darkness, Will met with an unexpected
accident.
The bush he was holding to gave way, and he fell forward precipitately.
The torch was hurled downwards, while he himself plunged head foremost
into the cave.
Bruised and startled, he scrambled to his feet.
At that moment a terrific roar echoed through the darkness and gloom of
the cave.