Read The Pioneer Boys on the Great Lakes; or, On the Trail of the Iroquois Page 8


  CHAPTER V

  A STRANGE BEAR HUNT

  "LISTEN!" said Bob, his lips placed as close to the ear of his brotheras he could possibly get them.

  "I hear him! He is over there, just where you said," replied theyounger hunter, the words being whispered so low that they could nothave been detected six feet away.

  "Get ready then--have your gun up, so he won't see the movement. 'Sh!"

  Bob said this because he knew that, with that bright moonlight floodingthe opening, there must always be a chance that its rays would glintfrom the metal barrel of a moving musket. And even such a little thingas this might serve to startle a suspicious bear into making a suddenretreat.

  The sounds now became more pronounced than before. Some heavy body wasundoubtedly pushing through the underbrush, and in such haste as to beutterly unmindful of what noise was produced.

  Of course nothing but a clumsy bear could be guilty of such an advance,caution being thrown to the four winds because of that tantalizing odorof honey in the heavy night air,--an odor which was making Bruin fairlywild with eagerness to be at the anticipated feast.

  A panther would have crept slily forward, so that not even the rustleof a leaf might betray its presence, and even a buffalo would haveadvanced with a certain amount of caution; but a bear depends on itssense of smell to give warning of danger, and seldom moves with anydegree of care.

  Presently Sandy could hear him sniffling at a great rate as he pushedcloser. The animal evidently could not understand why there should besuch a pronounced odor of honey in the air. Many times had he cometo this same spot in the hope of being able to bag some of the bees'store; but always to meet disappointment. But now there must be a greatchange in the arrangement of things.

  Somewhere amid the foliage covering the bushes across the glade thebig beast must have stopped, to look in surprise at the fallen beetree. Perhaps he suspected a trap of some kind, knowing that his mortalenemy, man, had been there lately. But that distracting smell drownedall his caution. Unable to hold out against it any longer, the bearsuddenly lumbered forward.

  Sandy saw him coming, but held his fire. In the first place the bearwas head on, and he wanted to get a chance at the animal's flank, sothat he might make sure to plant his bullet back of the shoulder,where he could reach the heart, and so bring his game down with thatone shot. Then again, it chanced that there was something of a shadow,which served to partly hide the beast as he advanced.

  Straight into the midst of the broken honeycombs did Bruin hasten,grunting in evident delight as he commenced to lick up the spilledsweet fluid, so dear to the heart of every bear.

  Sandy managed to repress his excitement to a great extent. He had beenhunting so often, boy though he was, that he no longer experienced thesame intense thrill that would have almost overwhelmed him a couple ofyears ago, had he been thrown into such a position as this.

  Slowly his cheek dropped down until it rested against the butt of hisfaithful old musket. Well did he know that the priming was in thepan, and that, when the flint struck the steel sharply, the sparkwould communicate to the charge, with the result that the bear must beconsiderably astonished.

  Unfortunately, however, Sandy could not see in that deceptive moonlightthat a fair-sized twig happened to be just between the muzzle of hisgun and the object at which he aimed. Had it been daytime he would havedetected this fact, and avoided taking the chances of his bullet beingslightly deflected in its swift passage.

  The report of the gun was deafening. With his usual impulsiveness Sandyinstantly leaped to his feet, giving a boyish shout as he saw the bearkicking on the ground, in the midst of the branches of the fallen tree.

  Then, to his utter astonishment, and not a little to his chagrin aswell, the dark, rolling object seemed to scramble once more to its fourfeet, and, attracted by his movements, immediately started to advancedirectly toward him, growling in the fiercest possible way.

  It could no longer be said that Bruin was making a clumsy and slowadvance, for, inspired by a sudden rage toward the object from whichhis painful wound had evidently sprang, the animal was rushingfuriously forward.

  Bob fired in the hope of checking this advance, that promised to upsetall of their fine plans; but just then Sandy, in jumping back, chancedto jostle his brother, so that, even if the second bullet struck thebear at all, it certainly did no great damage. At least his swift iflumbering advance was not materially checked.

  "Run, Sandy!" shouted Bob, as he realized that they were now facing aninfuriated and wounded beast, with only their hatchets and knives touse in defence of their lives.

  Sandy was not slow to take the advice thus given. He sprang away inone direction, while Bob took the other. Just why the bear shouldhave picked out Sandy to follow, neither of the brothers could eversay, though they really believed the old fellow was keen enough tounderstand which of the fleeing lads had sent that first stingingpellet that bored under his skin, and made him so uncomfortable.

  Bob was dismayed when he found that the animal had ignored him, and waschasing Sandy. With his usual generous way of taking burdens on hisshoulders, Bob had really hoped to attract the bear; indeed, with thisidea in view, he had even made more noise than was necessary, as hefloundered along through the bushes.

  When, however, he found that he had not been followed, he immediatelychanged his tactics. From running away he now started to follow afterthe bear, and, as he thus pushed through the woods, the boy triedto reload his musket, always a difficult task in those days of theprimitive powder-horn, when the charge had to be measured out intothe palm, poured into the long barrel, and the bullet in its patch ofgreased cloth pushed down with the ramrod; after which the priming hadto be adjusted.

  Bob was not making any particularly good headway in reloading, since hecould not stay his hurrying steps long enough to do the right thing.

  From the noise ahead he judged that Sandy must have succeeded indrawing himself up into the friendly branches of a tree, and that thefurious bear was following close on his heels.

  At least this would give the fugitive a little time, and perhaps,meanwhile, he, Bob, could come on the scene with his gun, ready to takea hand in the game.

  "Hi! Bob, this way!" Sandy was shouting, at the top of his voice, asthough his situation was rapidly becoming desperate.

  "All right!" answered the one who was pushing along through the brushas best he could. "I'm coming, Sandy! Hold on a little longer!"

  A minute or so later he found himself on the scene. Just as he hadguessed, Sandy, being hotly pursued, and fearing lest he be overtakenby the angry beast, had on the spur of the moment clambered hastilyinto the branches of a tree. It was the result of sudden impulse, forsurely the boy knew that an American black bear is always at homewherever he can dig his sharp claws into the bark of a tree.

  Perhaps Sandy would never fully realize how he came to escape theanimal's last rush; but it must have been almost by a miracle.Once among the branches, the boy did not stop an instant. The bearimmediately showed an inclination to follow him aloft, and Sandy hardlycared to try conclusions with Bruin in his present winded condition,and with only his hatchet to depend on.

  So he had hastily climbed upward. Looking down, he had been dismayed tosee that the bear was making quick progress after him. He could hardlygo to the top of the tree, and, as a possibility leaped into his mind,the boy started out on a large limb that was some twenty feet or soabove the ground.

  "THE BEAR ALL THE WHILE KEPT ON CREEPING OUT CLOSER ANDCLOSER"]

  Bruin did not hesitate a moment when he reached this limb, but startedout after the young hunter. It was at that moment Sandy had sent outhis appeal for help. He realized that he was in a bad fix, since thebear would either follow until he could reach his intended victim withhis sharp claws; or else the combined weight of the two must break thelimb, sending both to the ground.

  Bob, having arrived under the tree, was making desperate efforts tofinish loading his gun, so that he might bring
the little drama toa close. But the bear all the while kept on creeping out closer andcloser, balancing his bulk with wonderful skill upon the limb.

  Sandy was impulsive in his ways; at the same time that bright mind ofhis was apt to originate many a clever ruse on the spur of the moment,and when desperation pushed.

  Bob, keeping one eye anxiously turned upward while he pushed thebullet hastily into the chamber of his gun, saw his brother suddenlyback still further away, so that the limb began to bend downwardwith his weight. The bear halted, as if loath to make any furtherforward move, and watching to see what his human adversary might becontemplating.

  Suddenly Sandy let go his hold of the outer branches. He had seen thathe might break his fall by passing through the foliage just below, andwas willing to accept the chances of receiving sundry scratches inconsequence.

  Bob fairly held his breath as he saw this bold action on the part ofhis brother. The bear crouched closer to the limb above, as thoughdeclining to be shaken from his hold. But, when the danger of this hadpassed, the beast started to back to the trunk of the tree, intent onreaching the ground again as speedily as possible.

  Sandy had come through the lower foliage with a great scramble, verymuch after the manner of a floundering wildcat that had been shot whileperched in a tree.

  Bob waited only long enough to assure himself that his brother hadreached the ground, even in a sadly dishevelled condition. Then hebegan to add the necessary priming to his gun, for Bruin was alreadystarting to descend to renew hostilities.

  Taking several steps forward, Bob arrived at the base of the big beechwith its wide-spreading branches. It was evidently his intention towait for the coming of the bear, and give him a warm reception.

  Bruin, in his ignorance of such things as explosives, since his onlyadventures up to now had probably been with the arrows of the red men,gave little heed to this suggestive action on the part of the younghunter. He kept backing down with all possible haste, anxious to avengehis injuries upon these human foes.

  But, after all, Bob found himself mistaken when he supposed that it wasup to him to end the big beast. While the bear was still at least tenfeet above him, the musket was suddenly taken forcibly from his hands.

  "You promised me, Bob, please remember!" cried Sandy.

  With his face bleeding from the scratches he had received in his fall,Sandy must certainly have presented a strange appearance just then; butthe spirit of the hunter rose superior to any and all discomforts. Thatbear was his by rights, and he did not mean to be cheated out of histriumph.

  Down came Bruin, looking over his shoulder as he dropped, and probablymeasuring the capacity of these two foes. But he failed to figureon the terrible power that lay in the odd looking stick one of thempointed up at him.

  There was a sudden flash, a stunning report, for Bob in his nervousnesshad overcharged his gun, and while Sandy fell back with a bruisedshoulder, the bear dropped like a stone at the foot of the tree. Sandyhad clapped the muzzle of the musket close to the animal's ear whenpulling the trigger, so that the result was never in doubt.

  "Whew!" he exclaimed, as he scrambled to his feet, still clutchingBob's gun. "Did you empty your powder-horn in that charge, Bob? I'll beblack and blue for a month after that recoil. But I got him, didn't I?He'll never have a chance to chase a fellow up a tree again. And, Bob,we're going to have that bear steak all right to-morrow, I reckon."

  Which they did, sure enough, though, as Bruin was no youngster, itprobably required pretty sharp teeth to enjoy the meal.