Read Frank in the Woods Page 8


  CHAPTER VIII.

  A Couple of New Pets.

  Frank was a big-feeling boy just then. He knew that he had donesomething that many an older person than himself would hesitate toundertake. He was fast becoming accustomed to scenes of excitement anddanger, and he thought only of the feat he had accomplished, and notof the perilous position in which he had placed himself but a fewmoments before. What if his gun had missed fire, or he had onlywounded the panther? How long could he and Brave have withstood hisattacks? The panther would certainly have conquered them. And whatcould he have done if he had been disabled in the depths of thosewoods, so far from any human being? Such questions as these passedthrough the reckless young hunter's mind, but he dismissed them withthe thought that the panther was dead, and that he had nothing tofear.

  The animal was one of the largest of his kind, measuring, as near asFrank could judge, fully seven feet in length, including the tail. Therifleshot which had broken his leg had made an ugly-looking wound, andhe had received both charges of buck-shot in his head; but the skinwas not spoiled, and Frank's first thought was to take it off and cureit for stuffing.

  Around the tree was a little space, which was clear of bushes, and wasprobably as good a camping-ground as he could find. So he placed hisgun where he could put his hand upon it at a moment's warning, andremoved his haversack, hanging it up on a small tree that stood near.He then unfastened his belt, and took from it his blanket and a smalltin pail, which was to do duty as a coffee-pot. With the aid of hisheavy hunting-knife, he soon erected a hut--rude-looking, indeed, butsufficiently strong and tight to protect him from the wind. Over thefloor he spread hemlock branches to the depth of four or five inches,and the camp was finished. He then kindled a fire in front of the hut,and filled his pail with snow, and hung it on a crane to boil. In alittle while the turkey, which the panther had killed, was dressed,and cooking as fast as a hot fire could make it. Before his supper wascooked, the panther was hauled into the cabin, and his skin taken off,and hung upon a frame to dry.

  The turkey was equally divided between master and dog; and as neitherhad eaten any dinner, not a vestige of the fowl was left. While Frankwas building his camp, he had heard a faint ripple, like the noise ofa small water-fall; and he was somewhat surprised thereat, for theintensely cold weather had formed ice, even in the swiftest water,almost two feet in thickness. As soon as he had finished his supper,he started out to see what had occasioned the noise, taking the trapwith him, intending to find a good place to set it. When he arrived atthe stream, he found it had its source in a salt spring, or, as thehunters would call it, a "deer-lick." The snow on the banks wastrodden as hard as a floor, and the paths that the animals had made,in going to and from the stream, ran up into the woods in alldirections. These springs are favorite resorts of deer and other wildanimals, which delight to taste their brackish waters; and it is acommon way of killing deer, in places where they are scarce, to watchone of these "licks" during the night, and shoot the animals as theyapproach.

  Frank walked up one of the paths that led to the spring, and began tomake preparations to set his trap. It was just the place for it, as hewould be certain to catch something before morning. He first dug ahole with his hunting-knife, directly in the middle of the path, andthe next job was to set the trap. He knew how it ought to be done. Butthe powerful jaws of the "Ole Settler" had often resisted the effortsof a stronger person than himself. After half an hour's work, duringwhich time the skirts of his coat had been cut almost entirely off bythe long, sharp teeth, he succeeded in getting it set, and placedsafely in the hole which he had dug for its reception. Then, with hishunting-knife, he cut down a good-sized sapling that stood near, andto this he fastened one end of a short, heavy chain; the other end ofthe chain he fastened to the trap. After he had placed every thing tohis satisfaction, he carefully covered the trap and chain with snow,removed all the twigs and leaves he had scattered about, and returnedto his camp. He employed himself until dark in gathering his evening'ssupply of fire-wood, and then lay down on his bed of boughs, wellsatisfied with his day's work.

  As it grew dark, it seemed to him that his camp became the center ofattraction to every wild animal in the woods for a circle of ten milesaround. The owl flew down around his fire, uttering his dismal scream;the barking of foxes was heard in all directions; and, now and then, adark object would come out of the bushes, and gaze at him a momentwith eyes that shone through the darkness like coals of fire, and thenbeat a hasty retreat. Once or twice he heard a sound that made himreach, rather hurriedly, for his gun--the same sound that the trapper,the night before, had pronounced the "sniff of a painter."

  Frank did not feel exactly safe in going to sleep, and sat for a longtime with his gun in his hand. Several times he was half inclined toshoot at some of the animals that came around the camp; but he finallyconcluded to keep the peace as long as they would. In a few momentsafter he had made this resolution, he sank back on his blanket, andwas soon fast asleep.

  Near midnight he was awakened by a chorus of loud yells. Starting up,he found his camp surrounded by wolves. The fire had almost gone out,and the wolves appeared to be growing bolder by degrees, havingalready approached quite close to the cabin. Frank started to his feetand threw a firebrand among them, when they scattered in everydirection, and were out of sight in a moment. He was not disturbedagain, and when he awoke it was daylight. After putting a good supplyof wood on the fire, and hanging his coffee-pot on the crane, heshouldered his gun, and started toward the place where the trap hadbeen set, hoping to find something in it that would make a breakfastfor him.

  There _was_ something in it, beyond a doubt, for both trap and clogwere gone; and the way Brave growled and showed his teeth led him tobelieve that he had caught something besides a deer. The hole in whichhe had placed the trap was trodden down as though a flock of sheep hadpassed over it. It was a matter of some difficulty to follow thetrail of the animal that had been caught in the trap, for he had moveddirectly up the path, and the only "sign" that Frank had to guide himwas, now and then, a slight scraping in the snow, which he knew hadbeen made by the clog, as the animal dragged it after him. He followedthe trail in this manner for nearly half a mile, when it suddenlyturned off into the woods, where he could follow it up considerablyfaster. Here he discovered that there was a bear in the trap, for theprints of his great feet were in the snow. His progress had evidentlybeen retarded a good deal, for, at intervals along the trail, thebroken bushes and trodden snow showed where the clog had caught andheld him fast.

  Brave led the way, but they had not gone far before he began to showsigns of uneasiness. A little further on, he suddenly came to a halt,and stood gazing steadily before him, toward a thicket of bushes, thatlooked as though it would afford a splendid hiding-place for a wildanimal.

  Frank began to be excited now, and his hand was none of the steadiestas he cocked his gun and stooped down to caress his dog. He had facedthe wounded panther without flinching, but he did not like the ideaof attacking that bear in his den, for such it undoubtedly was, asunder an immense pile of limbs and bushes Frank could see somethingdark, that looked like a cave.

  Brave ran around the bushes, with every hair on his body stickingtoward his head, and now and then making a dash at the den, as thoughchallenging the bear to come out. But the cave was as silent as death.Frank could not see how he could attack the bear in there, and thequestion was, how to get him out into open ground, so that he couldhave a fair shot at him, and a good opportunity to retreat, if thatshot should not prove fatal. After waiting nearly half an hour for thebear to come out and give them battle, Frank grew impatient, anddetermined to commence fight himself. Grasping his gun firmly in onehand, he set to work with his hunting-knife to cut a passage throughthe bushes, so that he could get a fair view of the mouth of the cave.

  While thus employed, he heard a slight rustling of leaves in the den,accompanied by a low, wailing cry, and followed by a hoarse growl. Hebravely stood his ground, holding his
gun in readiness; but, as thebear did not come out, Frank went on with his work, more determinedthan ever to effect the destruction of the animal, for that wailingnoise was the cry of a cub, which he was determined to have. He knewthat this would be no boy's play, for, of course, the old bear must bekilled before he could venture down into the cave. He was also wellaware that she would fight for her young with a ferocity andstubbornness, against which only the most determined courage and asteady hand and quick eye could avail. He had heard Uncle Joe relate astory of a man, and one not wanting in courage either, who, upondiscovering a couple of young bears playing together in the woods, hadshouldered his rifle and made for home at the top of his speed. Theleast cry from one of those clumsy little fellows would have broughtupon him an enemy that the bravest hunter would not care to encounter.

  But Frank had great confidence in himself, and worked awayindustriously, now and then pausing to look down into the cave andlisten. He had cut away most of the bushes before the opening, and assoon as he could get a good view of the interior, threw himself flatupon the snow and looked in. It was dark as midnight inside the cave,but he could see two fiery eyeballs glaring upon him through thedarkness, which appeared to be approaching the opening. This affordeda fine mark, and one that he thought he could not possibly miss; so,throwing forward his gun, he took a steady aim, and fired.

  The report was followed by a howl that made the cold sweat start fromevery pore of his body; but, without hesitating a moment, hedischarged the other barrel, and then, springing to his feet, rapidlyretreated, just as the enormous head and shoulders of the bear roseout of the opening. After running a little distance, and finding thathe was not pursued, he turned and looked behind him, and saw the bear,in front of the cave, rolling over and over in the snow. The "OleSettler" was fast to one of her hind-legs, and the clog had caught andwas holding her fast.

  Frank immediately commenced to reload his gun, keeping his eye on thebear, ready to retreat again if she should succeed in freeing herself.He hastily rammed down the charges, and poured a handful of buck-shotinto each barrel, and then crawled toward the bear, which, almostbeside herself with rage and pain, was tearing at her wounds, andpulling up all the bushes within her reach.

  Frank felt comparatively safe now, knowing that the bear could notescape; and besides, if she should succeed in getting the clog loose,she could not overtake him, incumbered as she was with the heavy trap.He waited until a fair mark was presented, and then fired again. Thewound was mortal. After a few struggles, the bear lay motionless onthe snow.

  The next work was to draw her away from the mouth of the cave and takeoff the trap. This was no easy task, for the animal was very heavy,and, as Dick had predicted, the "Ole Settler" "stuck tighter nor abrother." After much exertion, this was accomplished, and Frank wasabout to commence skinning the bear, when, all at once, the thoughtstruck him, Where was the father of the family? This thought made himspring to his feet rather hurriedly, and cast anxious glances at thecave.

  "The old fellow can't be in there," he soliloquized, "or he wouldcertainly have come out before this time; but I'll just keep an eyeopen for him, and if he shows himself, and undertakes to interfere inthis business, he'll get the worst of the bargain."

  He was not disturbed, however. The old bear, if he was about, probablythought that his family was capable of taking care of itself andfighting its own battles.

  As soon as he had taken off the bear's skin, he began to makepreparations to enter the cave and bring out the cubs, which, all thewhile, had kept up an impatient cry. He first cut down a stoutsapling, and, after he had lopped off all its branches, fastened hishunting-knife firmly to it. This he intended to use as a spear, incase he should be attacked while in the den. Grasping it in one hand,and his gun in the other, he crawled down into the cave. It was sodark that he could scarcely see his hand before him; but, after a fewmoments' search, he discovered the cubs, nicely covered up in a bed ofleaves. There were two of them, and they were about the size of a cat.They fought and screamed furiously as Frank took them up, but heunceremoniously thrust them into the capacious pockets of hishunting-shirt, and crawled out of the cave.

  When he reached his camp he found that the fire had gone out. It wassoon rekindled, when, after wrapping the cubs up in his overcoat, andputting them carefully away in one corner of the tent, he sat down onhis bed of boughs, and made a hearty breakfast on cold venison andbread. While he was eating, he began to think seriously of setting outfor "home," as he called the encampment where he had left hiscompanions. He had accomplished much more than he had expected hecould during the two days that he had been in the woods, and now hadabout as much on hand as he could conveniently attend to. The skins ofthe panther and bear must be prepared for stuffing, which wouldrequire his close attention; the cubs, also, must be taken care of andwatched, for they would escape, if left to themselves. If he was athome, they could be shut up in the cabin while he was off hunting, andhe could have his cousin's assistance in curing the skins. So, afterresting an hour, he pulled on his overcoat again, stowing the cubsaway in his pockets, folded up his blanket, strapped it fast to hisbelt, shouldered his gun, and set out.

  It was dark before he reached the cabin. His companions had justfinished eating their supper, and had not expected his return thatnight.

  "Why, Frank, how are you?" exclaimed Archie, springing to his feet andseizing his cousin's hand. "I'm glad to see you back safe. What kindof a time did you have?--rather lonesome, I guess. What have you got?"he continued, as one of the cubs, thinking that something unusual wasgoing on, again set up a furious yelping.

  "I've the skin of the panther that killed the white buck," answeredFrank, "and also a bearskin, and two young cubs." As he spoke, he drewthe cubs from his pocket.

  "You keerless feller!" exclaimed Dick, who had not yet spoken; "Iknow'd you'd be in some scrape or other."

  "So did I," chimed in Harry, "and that's the reason why I wouldn't gowith him. It's a wonder you ain't all clawed to pieces."

  "Hain't had any supper yet I reckon?" said the trapper. "Come an' setdown here, an' tell us all about it."

  Frank was quickly relieved of his gun and overcoat, while a platefulof venison, some bread and butter, and a cup of hot coffee werepassed over to him. Stretching his feet out toward the fire, herelated the details of his adventures, while the trapper sat by,smoking his pipe, apparently deeply interested in his story.