About the time that Bert Bobbsey was running through the snow, to get
away from the wildcat, Flossie and Freddie were having a scare of their
own, some miles distant from him, though in the same woods around Cedar
Camp.
The two smaller Bobbsey twins had gone off without letting their father
or mother know, taking with them a lunch. They tramped through the
forest until they came to a lonely place and had not yet caught sight of
their father, who had started off ahead with Old Jim Bimby and Tom Case.
Right here the small twins heard a growl and saw a movement in the
bushes.
"What's that?" asked Flossie, shrinking closer to Freddie.
"I--I don't know," Freddie answered, trying to think of something to
make him brave. "Maybe it's a bear!"
"A bear?" questioned his sister.
"Yep!" Freddie went on, his eyes never moving from the bush that seemed
to hide some animal. "Maybe it's a bear like the one we found the skin
of in the attic."
"It--it can't be the _same one_ coming back for his skin, can it?" asked
Flossie.
"Course not!" declared Freddie. "How could a bear go 'round without his
skin on?"
"Well, a bear's skin is just the same to him as our clothes are to us,"
Flossie went on. "An' sometimes, when we go swimming, we don't have very
many clothes on."
"Well, a bear is different," said Freddie.
"Oh, look!" suddenly cried the little girl, and, pointing to the bush
with one hand, she clung to Freddie's arm with the other. "He's coming
out! He's coming out!" she exclaimed.
A shaggy head could be seen thrusting itself from the bushes, and the
children were wondering what sort of animal it could be, for it did not
look like a bear, when, with a joyful bark, there burst out in front of
them--the shaggy dog belonging to Tom Case!
Rover--Rover was the name of the dog--rushed toward Flossie and Freddie,
leaping joyfully and wagging his tail. He had made friends with the
children as soon as they came to Cedar Camp, and they loved Rover.
"Oh, hello!" cried Flossie, as if greeting an old friend.
"He's glad to see us and we're glad to see him," said Freddie.
This seemed to be true, though I think Flossie and Freddie were more
pleased to see Rover than he was to see them, for the dog knew how to
find his way home, and even trace and find his master if need be, while,
to tell you the truth, Flossie and Freddie were lost, though they did
not yet know it. But they were soon to find this out.
"Did you come looking for us?" asked Flossie, as she patted the shaggy
animal.
"I guess he did," Freddie said. "I guess he'd rather come with us than
with daddy and the others. Though we'll take Rover to 'em, won't we?"
"Yes," agreed Flossie. "But we must hurry up and catch 'em, Freddie. We
want to see Mrs. Bimby and tell her about the nice warm bear robe."
"Sush! Don't speak so loud," cautioned Freddie, looking over his
shoulder.
"Why not?" Flossie wanted to know.
"I mean about the bear robe," her brother went on. "There might be some
bears in the woods, and if they heard there was the skin of one of 'em
at the cabin, maybe they wouldn't like it."
"Maybe that's so," agreed Flossie, also looking around. "But, anyhow,
Rover'd drive the bears away; wouldn't you, Rover?"
The dog barked and wagged his tail, which was the only answer he could
give. It satisfied the children, and soon they started off again, making
their way through the snow, hoping they would soon catch up with their
father, Mr. Case and Mr. Bimby. Rover accompanied Flossie and Freddie,
sometimes ahead of them and sometimes behind.
The dog had started out, as he often did, to follow his master, but had
lagged behind, perhaps to run after a rabbit or squirrel. Then he had
come across the tracks of the children and had gone to them, knowing
they were friends of his.
"I'm hungry," said Flossie, after a while. "Let's sit under a Christmas
tree and eat, Freddie."
"All right," agreed her brother, always willing to do this.
They were, just then, in a clump of evergreen trees, and under some the
snow was not as deep as it was in the open. In fact the children found
one tree with no snow under it at all, so thick were the branches, and
so close to the ground did they come. Crawling into this little nest,
where the ground was covered with the dry needles from the pines and
other trees, Flossie and Freddie opened the packages of lunch they had
brought with them.
Rover, smelling the food, crawled into the shelter after them, and
Flossie and Freddie shared their lunch with the dog, who even ate the
crumbs off the ground.
"But we mustn't eat everything," said Freddie, when part of the lunch
had been disposed of, Rover getting his share.
"Why not?" asked Flossie. "Can't you eat all you want to when you're
hungry?"
"It's best to save some," Freddie answered. "Maybe we'll get stuck in
the snow and can't get anything more to eat for a while, and then we'll
be glad to have this."
"That's so," agreed Flossie, after thinking it over. "I guess I'm not so
very hungry. But Rover is. He's terrible hungry, Freddie. See him look
at the lunch."
Indeed the dog seemed to be following, with hungry eyes, every motion of
the little boy who was wrapping up again that part of the lunch not
eaten by him and his sister. They saved about half of it.
Rover sniffed and snuffed as only a dog can, but he made no effort to
take the lunch that Freddie placed in a crotch of the evergreen tree
which made such a nice shelter for him and his sister.
"Don't you take it, Rover!" cautioned Flossie, shaking her finger at
him.
Rover thumped his tail on the ground, perhaps to show that he would be
good and mind.
"It's nice and warm in here," Freddie remarked, after a while. "I wish
we could stay here longer, Flossie."
"Can't we?"
"Not if we want to go to Mrs. Bimby's," Freddie answered. "We have to
get out and walk some more. And it's snowing again, too."
Whether it was or not, the children could not be quite certain, for the
wind was blowing, and if the flakes were not falling from the sky they
were blowing up off the ground.
It was almost the same, anyhow, for there was a fine shower of the cold,
white flakes in the air, and it was much more cosy and warm under the
tree than out in the open.
"Let's stay here a little longer," begged Flossie. "Rover likes it here,
don't you?" she asked, as she reached out her hand and patted the shaggy
back of the dog.
And from the manner in which Rover thumped his tail on the ground you
could tell that he did, indeed, like to be with the little Bobbsey twins
under the shelter of the tree.
"I know what we can do," said Freddie, after thinking a moment. "I know
what we can do to have some fun!"
"What?" asked Flossie, always ready for anything of this sort.
"We'll throw a lot of these pine cones outside, and Rover will chase
after 'em and bring 'em back," went on Freddie. "He likes to run out in
the snow. And after we play that awhile maybe it will be nicer outside."
"All right," agreed Flossie. "We'll throw pine cones."
There were many of these on the pine-needle covered ground beneath the
sheltering tree. The cones were really the clusters of seeds from the
tree, and they had become hard and dry so they made excellent things to
throw for a dog to bring back.
Rover liked to race after sticks when thrown by the children, and the
pine cones were ever so much better than sticks. There were so many of
them, too.
"I'll throw first, and then it will be your turn, Flossie," Freddie
said. "Here, Rover!" he called to the dog, as he picked up several of
the cones.
Always ready for a lark of this sort, Rover leaped to his feet and stood
at "attention." Freddie bent aside some of the branches and tossed a
pine cone out of the opening.
It fell in a bank of snow some distance away, for Freddie was a good
thrower for a little boy. And the pine cone, being light, did not sink
down in the snow as a stone would have done.
"Bow-wow!" barked Rover, as he dashed out after the pine cone.
That was his way of saying he would bring it back as quickly as he
could. And as Rover rushed from under the little green tent of the pine
tree Flossie gave a cry of surprise.
"What's the matter?" asked Freddie, turning around to look at his
sister.
"Rover knocked me down!" she answered with a laugh, and, surely enough,
there she was sprawling on the brown pine needles which covered the
ground under the tree. "He just bunked into me and knocked me over!"
Rover was not used to playing with children, you see, and he was a bit
rough. But he didn't mean to be.
Flossie sat up, still laughing, for she was not in the least hurt, and
by this time Rover had brought back the pine cone that Freddie had
tossed out.
"Good dog, Rover!" cried Freddie, patting the animal as he laid down the
cone and wagged his tail. "Now it's your turn to throw one, Flossie,"
Freddie said.
"All right," Flossie answered. "But look out he doesn't knock you down,
Freddie."
"I'm looking out!" Freddie said, and he quickly moved over to one side
of the space under the tree, while Flossie threw out her cone.
Flossie was not quite so good a thrower of sticks, stones, or pine cones
as was her brother. But she did pretty well. Though her cone did not go
as far as Freddie's had, it sank farther down into the snow. Maybe the
cone was a heavier one, or it may have fallen in a softer place in the
snow. Anyhow it went quite deep into a drift and Rover had to dig with
his forepaws to get it so he could take it in his mouth.
"Oh, look at him!" cried Flossie, as the dog, digging away, made the
snow fly in a shower back of him. "He's like a snowplow on the
railroad!"
Once, in a big storm, Flossie and Freddie had seen the railroad
snowplow, pushed by two locomotives, cut through a high drift. And the
way Rover scattered the snow made the little girl think of the plow.
"Bring it here, Rover!" cried Freddie, for it would be his turn next to
throw a cone.
"Bow-wow!" barked the dog, and then, with a final dive into the drift,
he got the brown cone in his mouth and came racing back with it. Covered
with snow as he was, he crawled under the shelter to be petted and
talked kindly to by Freddie and Flossie.
Then, just as he probably did when he came out of the water in the
summer time, Rover gave himself a shake, to get rid of the snowflakes.
"Oh! Oh!" laughed Flossie, holding her hands over her face. "Stop it,
Rover! You're getting me all snow!"
But Rover kept it up until he had got off all the snow, and then he
raced out again after more cones as the children threw them.
If Bert Bobbsey could have known where his little sister and brother
were, with brave old Rover beside them, I am sure he would have wished
to join them. For Bert, about this time, was running away from the
wildcat that had suddenly burst through the bushes.
"You're not going to get me!" said Bert to himself, as he clutched his
package of lunch and raced on as well as he could.
The pain in his leg bothered him, but he was not going to stop for a
thing like that and let a wildcat maul him. On he ran through the snow,
taking the easiest path he could find. He looked back over his shoulder
once or twice, to find the wildcat bounding lightly along after him.
And after he had looked back and had seen the size of the animal and
noticed that there was only one, somehow or other Bert became braver,
and he had an idea that perhaps he might drive this beast away.
Wildcats, or bobcats as they are sometimes called, being also known as
the bay lynx, are not as large as a good-sized dog. They weigh about
thirty pounds, and though they have sharp teeth and claws they very
seldom attack persons. Only when they are disturbed, or fear that
someone is going to harm their little ones or take away their food, do
bobcats run after persons.
And this one must have thought Bert was going to do it some harm, for
the animal certainly chased the lad.
"Ho!" said Bert to himself, as he looked back, "you're not so big! Maybe
you have got sharp teeth and claws, but if you don't get near me you
can't hurt me! I'm going to make you go back!"
Bert had a sudden idea of how he might do this--with snowball bullets.
All about him was snow--piles of it--and Bert had often taken part in
snowball fights at home. He was a good thrower, and once he had
snowballed a savage dog that had run at Flossie and Freddie and had
caused the animal to run yelping away.
"I'm going to snowball this wildcat!" decided Bert.
He ran on a little farther until he came to a small clearing where the
trees stood in an irregular ring around an open place. There Bert
decided to make a stand and see if he could not drive the chasing
wildcat away.
"And if he won't go, and comes after me," thought Bert, "I can climb a
tree."
He did not know, or else had forgotten, that wildcats themselves are
very good tree-climbers.
Reaching the other side of the clearing, Bert laid his package of lunch
down on a firm place in the snow, and then rapidly began to make some
hard, round balls. He packed them with all his might between his
mittened hands, for he knew a soft snowball would not be of much use
against a wildcat.
He had been some distance ahead of the animal, and when it ran up to the
edge of the clearing Bert had several snowballs ready.
"Come on now! See how you like that!" cried the boy. He threw one
snowball "bullet," but he was so excited that it went high over the head
of the bobcat. The next one struck in the snow at the feet of the
animal. But the third one hit it right on the nose!
"Good shot!" cried Bert.
The wildcat uttered a snarl and a growl, and stopped for a moment.
Perhaps it had never before chased anyone who threw snowballs.
"Have another!" cried Bert, and the next white bullet struck it on the
side. The bobcat leaped up in the air, and then Bert threw another ball
which hit it on the head.
This was too much for the creature. With a loud howl it turned and ran
back into the woods, and Bert breathed easier.
"Well, I guess as long as I can throw snowballs you won't get me," he
said to himself, as he picked up the package of lunch and hurried on.