Read Boy Scouts in Northern Wilds; Or, The Signal from the Hills Page 9


  CHAPTER IX

  TWO HUNGRY BEARS

  The Little Brass God was gone!

  George, still lying upon the floor of the cavern, stretched hislegs and arms, to see if he was all there, as he mentally commented.

  After a time he arose to his feet, clinging desperately to the wallbecause of his weakness, and called to Thede, who, as the readerknows, had left hours before, in search of the injured lad's chums.There came only echoes in reply to his shouts.

  There was a pile of wood near at hand and, gathering numerous dryfagots, the boy staggered dizzily toward the heap of ashes in thecenter of the cave. It seemed to him that the first thing to dowas to get warm.

  He was hungry, too, but warmth was the important thing just then.A few red coals still remained, and a blaze soon grew under theboy's careful hands. In a short time there was a roaring fire.

  After thawing the chill out of his bones, the boy began lookingaround for his friend of the night before. He looked at his watchand noted that it was eight o'clock. His revolver was gone but hissearch-light was still in his pocket.

  He remembered in a moment that he had handed his revolver toThede before starting to cross the light zone in the centerof the cavern. Whatever had taken place during his hours ofunconsciousness, it was evident that he had not been robbed.

  It seemed to the boy, as he stood looking through the opening whichgave a view of the forest to the north, that he had lain on thehard floor of the cavern for countless aeons. He did not rememberwhat had caused the wound on his head. He only knew that he hadbeen seized with a sudden dizziness and had fallen, after hearingpistol shots.

  Standing before the fire with the cheerful light of the blaze onone side and the dazzling light of the sun on the snow on the otherside, the uncanny incidents of the night before seemed like a dreamto the boy.

  He even found himself wondering whether he had actually caughtsight of the Little Brass God, leering down upon the watcher fromthe wall.

  Then he recollected that Thede had first called his attention tothe ugly image whose evil eyes seemed to take on malevolentexpressions in the light of the dancing flames.

  "It must be all true, then," he concluded. "The man by the fire,the Little Brass God on the shelf, the pistol shots, and then ablank."

  He wondered where Thede had gone, and why he had deserted him.

  "That's the strangest part of it all," the lad mused. "I had anidea that the boy would stand by me if I got into trouble, and herehe runs away, leaving me lying unconscious in the freezingatmosphere of this desolate old cavern. I didn't think it of him!"

  It occurred to George as he studied over the puzzle that Thedemight not have been as innocent and loyal as he had pretended tobe. He might have been merely an instrument in the hands of acunning man.

  "At any rate," the boy pondered, "we have found the Little BrassGod!"

  He had not, of course, secured possession of it, but he had learneddefinitely that it was in that part of the country. He wondered asto the identity of the man who sat watching the fire. The lighthad been dim, and it might have been Pierre for all he knew. Or itmight have been an accomplice of the tricky trapper.

  "Now, I wonder how I'm going to get back to camp," the boy mused ashe piled on more wood and spread his hands to the cheerful warmthof the fire. "Judging from the time it took us to get here, itmust be ten or twelve miles back to the camp."

  "The boys will think I've deserted them, I guess," he added. "Ifthey knew how hungry I am just at this minute, they'd send out arelief expedition!"

  While the boy warmed himself before the fire a series of growlscame from the entrance to the cavern, and two black bears looked inupon him.

  "Now I wonder if you're the same disreputable citizens that triedto make a free lunch counter of me last night?" George mused. "Ipresume you're hungry, all right, but I'd rather not be the personto do the feeding this morning. You look too fierce for me, bothof you."

  The smell of blood evidently excited the bears to unusual feats ofcourage, for they entered the mouth of the cavern and stoodgrowling and showing their teeth within a short distance of whereGeorge stood.

  Only for the great blaze which now leaped almost to the roof of thecavern, the boy would have been attacked at once. He glanced atthe rapidly decreasing pile of wood, and wondered what would takeplace as soon as the fire had died down. He had no weapon withwhich to defend himself.

  For at least a quarter of an hour the bears and the lad gazed ateach other through the red light of the fire. The bears weregradually moving forward, and every time the lad laid a stick ofwood on the blaze they seemed to understand more fully that hisdefense was weakening.

  George thought he had never seen wood burn away so fast. The blazeseemed to melt it as boiling water melts ice.

  Already the blaze was dropping lower, and the pile of wood wasalmost gone. The bears sniffed at the blood stains where the boyhad lain on the floor, and turned fierce eyes on the figure by thefire.

  George estimated that his wood might last ten minutes longer. Thenthere would be a rush, a crunching of bones and all would be over.

  A rifle shot sounded from the outside, and one of the bears droppedto the rocky floor, struggled spasmodically for a moment, and thenstraightened out and lay still. The next instant another shot,equally accurate, came and the second bear was dead in a moment.

  The boy waited eagerly for the appearance of the man who had donethe shooting. He had no idea who the man might be, and was notquite certain that the fellow had not taken from him one dangeronly to place him in another. Still, he looked eagerly forward tohis appearance.

  When the man appeared, a smoking double-barreled rifle in his hand,George saw a tall, ungainly figure with long legs, a long, slimbody, very high cheek bones, and rather stern and uncompromisingblue eyes.

  The newcomer was dressed in the leather jacket usually worn bytrappers in that district, leather leggins, moccasins, and fur cap.A belt of red leather, probably colored and tanned by some Indianprocess, was drawn tightly about his waist. There were gold ringsin his ears which swung an inch down on his brown cheeks.

  "Hello, sonny!" the man said, advancing into the cavern, standingthe butt of his rifle on the rock, and leaning on the barrel.

  "Say," the boy almost shouted, springing forward and extending hishand, "that's about the best shooting I've seen in a year!"

  "The place to hit a bear," the new-comer replied, "is in the neck,right about where the spinal cord starts to crawl under the skull."

  "It's a good thing you came along just as you did," George stated."I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am, and so you'll have totake that for granted. You saved my life!"

  "I'm Antoine," the other said, in a moment, after a casual surveyof the boy. "I'm a hunter and trapper. I saw the bears lookingin, and knew from the smoke coining out that there was a humanbeing in here, too. Knowing that bears and humans don't mixremarkably well, I came in, too. That's all there is to it!"

  "I guess they would have mixed with me all right in about aminute," George said with a smile. "I had about abandoned hope!"

  "How'd you get here?" asked Antoine.

  George related the story of the adventures of the previous night,omitting, however, any mention of the Little Brass God. While hetalked, there came to his mind an indistinct impression that theface of the man he had seen sitting by the fire was the face of theman who now stood before him.

  He put the thought away instantly, for he did not believe that theperson who had left him on the floor of the cavern to die of coldand exposure, or to be devoured by wild beasts, could be the samewho had so opportunely rescued him from death.

  "You must be hungry, I take it," Antoine said, after the boy badconcluded his recital. "Boys usually are hungry."

  "You bet I'm hungry!" George replied.

  Antoine glanced smilingly about at the two bears lying on the floor.

  "Can you cook bear steak?" he asked.


  "Can I?" repeated George.

  Antoine pointed to the Boy Scout medals on the lad's coat sleeve.

  "You have the Stalker and Pioneer medals," he said. "You ought toknow something about forestry."

  "How do you know what they are?" smiled George.

  "Oh," was the hesitating reply, "I know quite a lot about Boy Scoutwork and training. Fine lot of fellows, those Boy Scouts!"

  "Right you are!" declared George.

  Antoine now drew forth a hunting knife which seemed to be as keenas a razor and began removing the skins from the dead animals. Heworked swiftly and skillfully, and in a short time the making oftwo fine black bear rugs were laying in the sun outside.

  "Now," the man said, "you get busy with that steak over the coals,and I'll tote in more wood. You don't seem quite up to carryingheavy loads yet. That must be a bad wound."

  "I think I must have lost considerable blood," George answered.

  After the steak was nicely broiled, Antoine brought water from anearby stream, and the boy's head was carefully and ratherskillfully attended to.

  "And now," said Antoine, "we'll go to my own home, which isn't faraway."

  Without a word the boy followed the hunter through the deep snowwhich lay on the slope until they came to an opening in the rock.Entering, the boy found a very comfortable cavern, almostcompletely lined with fur. There was a chimney-like crevice in theceiling which permitted the escape of smoke and foul air. Bothinside and outside the entrance were great stones by which theplace might be sealed up from either side.

  "Quite a cozy nest!" George ventured, and Antoine nodded.

  "We'll celebrate your arrival with a cup of good strong tea," hesaid.

  The tea was brewed and drank. Then the trapper's face began toassume grotesque forms. The boy's head swam dizzily. He caught acynical smile in Antoine's eyes and dropped back into a drugged anddreamless sleep!