FACE TO FACE.
Herbert Watrous, when he separated from his companions on that balmy
afternoon in Indian summer, assumed a loftiness of bearing which was far
from genuine.
The fact was, he felt dissatisfied with himself, or rather with the
rifle which his indulgent father had presented to him only a few weeks
before.
"I don't like the way the thing behaves," he said, as he stopped to
examine it; "father paid one hundred and twenty-five dollars for it, and
it was warranted the best. It's pretty hard to hit a deer a quarter of a
mile off, but I ought to have brought down that squirrel which was only
a hundred feet distant."
He turned the weapon over and over in his hand, looked down the barrel,
tried the hammer and trigger, carefully examined the wind-gauge and
vernier rear-sights, but could not see that anything was out of order.
"I'm afraid it was my fault," he said, with a sigh, "but it will never
do to let the boys know it. I'll insist that I struck the buck, though
I'm afraid I didn't."
After going a little ways he noticed he was walking over a path which
was not marked very distinctly; it was, in fact, the route which Mr.
Fred Fowler, the industrious dweller in the log cabin, had worn for
himself in going to and from his work.
"That's lucky," said the lad, "for it's much easier traveling over a
path like that than tramping among the trees, where you have to walk
twice as far as there is any need of--confound it!"
This impatient remark was caused by a protruding branch, which just then
caught Herbert under the chin and almost lifted him off his feet.
The boy was sensible enough to understand that his failure to display
any good marksmanship was due to his own want of practice rather than to
any fault of his piece.
"That Nick Ribsam can beat me out of my boots; I never heard of such a
thing as 'barking' a squirrel till he showed me how it is done, and he
used a gun that is older than himself. Well, Nick was always smarter
than other boys; he is younger than I, and I have taken sparring lessons
of the best teachers in the country, while he never heard of such a
thing as science in using his fists; but he just sailed into me that
day, and the first thing I knew he had me down, and was banging himself
on me so hard that I have never got over the flattening out--hallo!"
A gray squirrel, flirting its bushy tail, whisked across the path in
front of him that moment, scampered up a hickory and perched itself near
the top, where it offered the best chance for a shot that one could
wish.
"Now I'll see what I can do," muttered Herbert, sighting at the saucy
little fellow, who seemed to be ridiculing his purpose of reaching it
with a bullet at such a height.
The young hunter aimed with great care, pressed the trigger, and, as the
sharp report rang through the woods, the squirrel came tumbling to the
ground, with its skull shattered.
Herbert Watrous was surprised and delighted, scarcely believing in his
own success. He picked up the slain rodent and saw that its destruction
had been caused by the bullet he fired.
"That's business," he exclaimed, with a thrill of pride; "but why
couldn't I shoot that way when Nick and Sam were looking at me? I know
how the thing is done now, and when we get together I'll give them some
lessons in marksmanship."
He left the squirrel on the ground, but had not gone far when a new idea
struck him and he came back, picked it up, and put it in his game-bag.
"If I show them a squirrel, they can't help believing that I shot him."
The serious question which Herbert had been discussing with himself,
ever since being alone, was what he would do if he should happen to come
upon the bear. He had not quite so much confidence in his gun as he had
when he started out, though the shooting of the squirrel brought back
considerable of his natural assurance.
The conclusion he reached was that it would be just as well if he and
bruin did not meet. Excellent as was his Remington, it was not a
repeating rifle, and he was afraid that one shot, even if well aimed,
would not be enough.
"If I had a Henry, which shoots sixteen shots in sixteen seconds, I
could fill him so full of lead that he couldn't run fast enough to
overtake me if I didn't happen to kill him."
But the Henry, which he desired so much, was beyond his reach, and it
was idle to wish for it.
Accordingly, he slung his gun over his shoulder in true sportsman style,
and strode along the path until the greater part of the distance was
passed, when, like his friends, he found a fallen tree at a convenient
spot and sat down for a rest.
Herbert, in his luxurious home in the city, had become accustomed to
irregular hours, so that it was now the most natural thing in the world
for him to fall asleep and not open his eyes until he shivered with
cold and it was growing dark around him.
He started up in no little surprise, and, recalling where he was,
hastened along the path toward the camp.
"They'll be worried almost to death about me," was his thought, "and I
shouldn't wonder if they start out to hunt me up. Ah!"
The reverberating report of a rifle came from the direction of the
limestone rock, and he felt no doubt that it was meant as a signal to
direct him.
Herbert replied by firing his own gun in the air and shouting that he
was coming. He did not forget to place another cartridge in his rifle,
for, truth to tell, he was a little nervous over this lonely tramp
through the woods at such a late hour.
He listened, and heard the answering shout of Sam Harper, and,
communication being thus established, Herbert held his peace and
hastened forward as best he could in the faint moonlight.
"I hope I won't meet any sort of game now," was the wish of the lad,
"for I am in a hurry to join the boys--"
Could he believe his eyes!
He had hardly given expression to the wish, when a dark mass loomed up
to sight directly ahead of him, and he plainly saw the gleam and glow of
a pair of frightful eyes fixed upon him. He was sure, too, that he had
heard the threatening growl of the monster, which might well believe he
had the youngster in his power.
"It's the bear, as sure as I'm alive!" gasped Herbert. "There's no
getting away from him! Heaven save me from missing, for if my gun fails
me now, it is all over! He won't give me time to climb a tree, and I
_must_ shoot!"