CHAPTER V
WHEN KATE CAME HOME
"SOME one is in trouble, Bob!" cried the younger Armstrong boy, asthese sounds came floating to their ears.
"Yes, and a white man, too," said Bob, as he tossed the bundle ofvenison up into the crotch of a big oak tree close at hand. "We mustsee if we can help him."
Sandy was nothing loth. He knew full well that the unwritten law ofthe woods compelled every man to extend assistance when he met withone in need, and from the nature of the racket they could imagine thatsomething quite out of the ordinary must be taking place.
The two lads set off on a run, eager to reach the spot as quickly aspossible. True, they were rather short of ammunition just then, but solong as a single load remained to their guns they were ready to use itin behalf of any one in distress.
"Listen, brother," said Sandy, when they had covered some littledistance; "surely we have heard that voice before."
"KICKING FURIOUSLY AT A LEAN BLACK BEAR, JUST BELOWHIM."]
"Yes," returned Bob, with a little laugh, "it is our old friend, PatO'Mara, without a doubt; but what can he have stumbled into now? Pat isalways looking for a 'ruction,' as he calls it, and generally findingwhat he wants."
"Perhaps the wolves, after leaving us, may have treed him," suggestedSandy, with something like a broad grin appearing on his freckled face.
But the other shook his head in the negative. He seldom jumped atconclusions as did Sandy, and usually weighed his words before speaking.
"Hardly that, boy," he observed; "we would have heard their howlsbefore this. And besides, we have good reason to know that wolves arearrant cowards in the daytime."
"Well, let us run on again, for evidently Pat is in need of help. Thismay pay him back for dragging me out of that quicksand last summer,when I thought my last hour had arrived," and Sandy once more startedon a trot in the direction of the spot whence the shouts arose.
Soon another sound mingled with the cries of the Irish trapper.
"It must be a bear!" said Sandy over his shoulder, as he ran.
Bob was of the same opinion, for the ferocious growls that came downthe breeze could surely have been produced by no other among the woodscreatures.
Then they burst through a thicket, and suddenly came in sight of aspectacle so remarkable that both boys stood still to gape and grin.
A rather stout man was sitting up in the wreck of an old tree, kickingfuriously at a lean black bear, just below him, that was striking withhis claws in the endeavor to fasten upon the legging of the other'sfoot.
While he thus kicked, the man in fringed buckskin was constantlytalking, often giving vent to a shout of joy when his foot chanced toland against the head of his hairy enemy.
On the ground lay a rifle; but the bear did not seem to be seriouslywounded in any way, which fact puzzled the boys not a little, becausePat O'Mara had the reputation of being a marvellous shot, and theyremembered having heard the report of the gun a short time back.
When he saw the new arrivals, the trapper let out a cheer that told ofsolid satisfaction. And indeed, to tell the truth, his situation wasanything but pleasant, and the end uncertain, with that wicked old beardetermined to get him by fair means or foul.
"Haroo!" shouted the trapper, waving his coonskin cap vigorously abovehis red head; "sure yees are the byes to hilp me out av throuble, so yebe! Alriddy he scents me frinds, and is backin' down out av the three.Just take up alongside the fut av the same, and put a flea in his earbefore he can turn to do yees any harrm. Haroo! Make a clane job av thesame, remimber. An' wan at a time, av ye plaze!"
"You take him first, Sandy," said Bob, with his usual thoughtfulness,always willing that his brother should carry off the honors when therewas a choice.
He stood alongside, and held his musket in readiness, so that in casethe first leaden missile failed to finish old Bruin he might join inthe affair.
The bear, while still angry, was evidently considerably concerned overthe coming of reinforcements.
Sandy knew how to do the part of the business that had been entrustedto him.
"Stiddy, lad, stiddy!" warned the trapper, already following the beardown the tree. "Make a sure job av it now; and don't spile the pelt!"
Bang! went the heavy charge which was in Sandy's flint-lock musket. Thebear immediately fell in a heap on the ground. Bob stood there, readyto add the finishing touch if absolutely necessary; but among huntersit is always understood that there shall be no interference at suchtimes unless positively needed; and the game had been placed in Sandy'shands.
And in this case there was no need, for the bear, after making adesperate attempt to struggle to his feet, dropped, and lay still;whereupon Sandy and the good-natured Irish trapper united in a cheerthat made the woods ring again and again.
"Afther all, it is Sandy's pelt, and it's glad I am he had the goodsinse to sind his bullet back av the forelig instid av liftin' thebaste's hid," declared the man who had been rescued from the tree.
"But how comes it that we found you in such a queer scrape, Pat?"asked Bob, with a twinkle in his eye; for he knew very well somethingmust have gone amiss, or the usually clever woodsman would not havefound himself in so sore a strait.
"Arrah! it's ashamed I am to till yees, me byes; but sure thot was atime Patsy found himself up the wrong tree," admitted the other, whowas so good-natured that he could even laugh at a joke on himself.
"And not much of a tree at that, I should say," remarked Sandy dryly,as he surveyed the stump which had been the scene of the trapper'sadventure. "Seems to me, Pat, that if I wanted to climb a tree, andfight it out with a bear, I would pick a bigger one than this rottenold thing."
"Oh! ye wud, eh? Phat if the bear was so clost till yer heels that yehad to shin up anything at all?" objected Pat, with a comical grin.
"Well, in that case no one could blame you," returned Bob. "Tell us howit came you failed to kill the beast when you fired."
"Sure, and ye are mistaken, Bob; niver a shot did I take at the ouldbeggar," said the other, positively.
The boys looked at each other.
"But surely we heard a shot," observed Sandy.
"Yis, but thot was the bear shootin', I give ye my word," the man inbuckskin avowed.
"Do you mean to tell us that the bear fired your gun at you?"questioned Sandy, who knew the joking propensity of the jolly Irishtrapper.
"Whirra! now, who said he fired _at_ me? Afther chasing me up here theugly ould baste took a notion to scratch at me gun down on the ground;and as by bad luck the hammer was back, bedad if he didn't managesomehow to pull the trigger. Sure, if ye look here, yees can see thehole the bullet made in the butt av the tree!"
At this frank declaration on the part of the trapper Sandy was unableto keep a straight face any longer, but broke out into a roar. Nor wasPat long in joining him, seeming to think it a fine joke.
"But afther all it was the bear that hild the small ind av the sthick,"the hero of the adventure remarked as, with knife in hand, he startedto remove the heavy skin of the victim. Sandy tramped back to securethe venison from the crotch in the oak, while Bob aided the trapper.
Pat was a roving blade. He loved the wide expanse of wilderness, andhad made several long trips into the west, though as yet never as faras Colonel Boone and his party had gone. He had always been a goodfriend of the Armstrongs, and was particularly fond of the two brothers.
After about an hour's delay the boys, accompanied by O'Mara, madea start for the cabin in the clearing, each one well loaded withpackages of meat. The bear had not been in very good condition,having hibernated all winter, and lived upon his fat; but still theexperienced trapper knew just what portions to carry along, such aswould afford good stews to the hungry Armstrongs.
It was just noon when they came in sight of the cabin. Of course itwas the anxious mother who sighted the boys first, as she stood withinthe open doorway, shading her eyes with her hand so as to shut out theglare of the sun on the snow.
/> Soon the newcomers were sitting in front of the big blaze in theyawning fireplace, where a pot bubbled and gave out appetizing odors,telling the story of their adventures; while David, the look of concerngone for the time being from his face, undid the packages of suppliesthat had been secured.
Indeed it was a happy little party that sat around the plain dealtable. What mattered it that the chairs were home-made, that Sandyeven had to utilize a three-legged stool; that instead of boards thecabin had only a hard earthen floor; while there was an utter absenceof anything beyond the absolute necessities of existence, as lived inthose primitive times? (Note 4.)
Love dwelt there, and smoothed all the rough edges. Looking into theproud and apparently happy face of the little mother the two boys werepleased to think fortune had been so very kind, and allowed them tobring home such a goodly supply of meat; for the larder was almost bare.
Pat was always the life of any party. When he chose to exert himselfthings went on with a whirl, and there was much merriment. If Mr.Armstrong meant to ask his advice about the plans he was formingconnected with their emigration to the new country beyond the horizonin the west, he held his peace just then, not wishing to arouse theboys as yet; for he knew Sandy's impetuous ways, and how the facts mustsoon become public property once he learned them.
The thing that worried David Armstrong most was his uncertainty as towhere he could secure money enough to fit out for the long journey.They really needed at least two horses, upon which the bedding andextra clothing, as well as cooking utensils, could be loaded; for noone would think of carrying anything else over such an unknown road,hundreds of miles into the untrodden wilderness, where most of thetravelling must be done over the winding buffalo trails.
However, he had a plan, thanks to a suggestion on the part of histhoughtful wife, and with the assistance of Pat O'Mara he fancied hecould secure what he wished so earnestly, a loan from a man he had oncebefriended, and who was now well-to-do.
They had just finished their meal when Sandy discovered somethingthrough the little window near which he happened to be sitting.
"Why, would you believe it, mother, here comes sister Kate!" heexclaimed.
All of them made a start to leave the table; and then, influencedperhaps by some hidden fear, they turned to exchange glances. Couldanything have happened that the girl was coming home at this unusualhour; for the cabin where she had been employed was half a mile away?
The door opened to admit a pretty little girl with flaxen curls, justnow sadly awry; and the eye of Mrs. Armstrong saw instantly that Katehad certainly been indulging in a good cry, something she was seldomguilty of doing, being possessed of a sunny disposition very like hermother's, though perhaps she had also a dash of her father's pepperynature.
At sight of the family Kate was unable to restrain her feelings anylonger, for again the tears began to flow down her rosy cheeks.
"Why, Kate, my child, what has happened? Why are you here, when yourduty is at the Hodgkins?" asked Mrs. Armstrong, hastening to throwa reassuring arm around the shoulders of the slight figure that wasshaking with emotion.
The girl looked up, the tears shining in her blue eyes. There wasalso a flash of temper to be seen there, and evidently Kate had beenrecently aroused to a point where she could stand things no longer.
"I am done with the Hodgkins," she cried, stamping her little foot onthe clay floor; "I will never go back there again! I hate them, everyone! Oh! it was so mean, so cowardly to say that!"
Mrs. Armstrong turned pale, and her husband said something under hisbreath, as they exchanged uneasy glances.
"Tell us, what did they dare say to you?" demanded Sandy, gritting histeeth.
"They mocked me, and said my father was a barn-burner!" sobbed thegirl, bitterly.