CHAPTER VIII
AN INTERRUPTED FORAGE
Young Butler, regardless of the presence of the bears, ran to theassistance of the unfortunate fat boy.
Tad jerked Stacy to his feet, then with a firm grip on the latter'scollar ran him toward one of the larger trees, up which he assistedChunky. The panting of a bear seemed close to Tad's ears when he hadfinished this task. He had just time to jump aside to avoid thesweep of a paw.
Tad jumped as far up as possible, throwing arms and legs about thetrunk of the same tree. At that moment he lost a section of histrousers, which was left in the claws of Bruin. Tad quickly hitchedup a few inches higher, panting from his exertions, and there heclung for a moment to get his breath. In the meantime the bear wasexerting itself to reach him.
"Climb, climb! He'll get you!" shouted Ned.
"He can't reach me."
"Look out. There comes another one. He is bigger!" warned Walter.
"Grab the rope!" yelled Rector, letting the loop of his lasso dropover Tad Butler's head.
Tad hunched the rope under his arms.
"Can you hold me?"
"Yes, I've got a hitch around a limb," answered Ned.
The boy half way up the tree rested more of his weight on the rope.A moment of this and he began to climb, Ned assisting by hauling upon the rope with all his strength. Butler was soon resting besidehim.
"Thank you," said Tad. "You aren't much of a shot, but you helped meup."
"Yes. I could shoot better than that with a pop-gun," jeered Stacyfrom an adjoining tree.
"You keep still. I don't see that you have been doing much, for abrave man, except to get us into more trouble," retorted Ned.
The Professor had become very much excited, and nearly fell out ofthe tree while suddenly shifting his position.
"Charlie, why don't you do something?" shouted the Professor.
Charlie hunched his shoulders.
"Get down there and shoot them, why don't you?" demanded ProfessorZepplin.
"No gun, no shoot," answered Charlie John.
"Some of us can't shoot when we do have a gun," piped Chunky.
"It takes a pretty good shot to shoot a rope in two," answered Butlermischievously, stealing a look at the flushed face of Ned Rector.
"But what are we going to do?" demanded the Professor.
"From the present outlook I think we shall be tree dwellers, for atime at least," answered Tad. "Has any of you a suggestion to make?"
"I move that Ned Rector climb down and make faces at the bears. Theywill run away sure then."
"Oh, keep still. If they didn't run at sight of you, nothing underthe skies will frighten them," retorted Ned disgustedly.
"No, they didn't run away. They wanted to kiss me," answered the fatboy triumphantly.
Despite their perilous situation the boys laughed, but ProfessorZepplin did not. He sat astride a limb tugging savagely at hiswhiskers. Tad suggested to Ned that he was afraid the Professorwould pull the whiskers out.
The report of a rifle some distance to the westward of the camp calledthe attention of the party sharply in that direction.
"That's Mr. Vaughn," cried Tad.
"What is he shooting at?" asked Walter.
"I don't know, but maybe he has found the bear he went out after,"suggested Tad.
There was no second shot, so they concluded that the guide had missedhis shot and lost whatever he had shot at. Tad began utteringlong-drawn calls, the call of the woodsman which he had learned fromCale Vaughn. After a time a faint call was heard in answer.
"He heard us," yelled Stacy.
In the meantime the three bears were having a merry time down in thecamp. They even searched the tents for plunder, foraging everywhere,doing damage to everything that they did not eat, clawing the outfitover ruthlessly. The guide's voice was heard calling again. Itsounded much nearer this time, and the Pony Rider Boys raised theirvoices in an appealing yell.
Cale heard it. He knew instinctively that something was wrong at thecamp, and started for home at a brisk run. As he neared the camp heproceeded with more caution. Every few moments the boys would set uptheir long drawn calls, but as there were no more answers to them,they feared that Cale had gone away on another trail.
Suddenly a loud report that seemed to be right in the camp, sostartled them that some of them nearly fell out of the trees. Chunkyuttered a yell. Following the report, the most amazing thinghappened to one of the bears that was standing on its hind feetpawing at the table. The bear toppled over backwards, clawed the airas it lay flat on its back, then rolled over on its side where itlay still.
_Bang!_
A second bear followed the first, except that he plunged forward,rolled over, and did not move again.
The third bear, with a growl, ambled into the bushes and disappeared.
"It's the guide!" cried Tad.
"Hurrah!" yelled Ned. "Wasn't that some shooting? Oh, Mr. Vaughn!"
"Ye-o-w!" yelled Stacy in a shrill, penetrating voice.
"Whoo--ee!" cried Tad.
"You've got them," roared Walter. "One ran away. Hurry and you'llget him."
Cale, at this juncture, made a sudden appearance from a thicket ofbushes, rifle thrust ahead of him ready for instant service.
"Where did he go?"
"That way," shouted Tad, slipping down the tree and bounding off inthe direction taken by the third bear.
The others followed him down to the ground, while Cale ran off inpursuit of the escaping bear. Stacy Brown, constituting himself theleader of the party, was shouting directions to them.
"Oh, go way back somewhere and sit down," begged Ned.
"Go climb a tree. That's the best place for you," retorted Stacy.
"Boys, stop your quarreling," commanded the Professor.
"We aren't quarreling," answered Rector.
"No, that's just our way of having fun," agreed Stacy.
"We love each other too well to quarrel, don't we, Fatty?" questionedRector, grinning broadly.
"Of course we do. Didn't I save your life today?"
"I'd like to know how," bristled Ned.
"He got away," announced Vaughn, returning to camp. "This place looksas if it had been struck by a tornado," added the guide. "What hasbeen going on here?"
"Well, you see the big bear and the middle-sized bear and theweeny-teeny bear came home for their bowl of soup. Not finding thesoup they tried to eat up Pony Rider Boys," began Stacy.
"I don't understand it," reflected Cale. "Bears don't ordinarily actthat way."
"These weren't ordinary bears. Neither was the one that kissed methis afternoon," declared Stacy.
Vaughn fixed his gaze on the fat boy.
"What are you getting at?"
"Oh, nothing much. A big, big bear called on me in my tent thisafternoon. We drove him out of the camp, we did. You ought to havebeen here. Why, when he left the camp after I had rebuked him, histail was dragging on the ground, and--"
"He must have been a new species of bear to have a tail as long asthat," laughed Cale.
"Well, anyhow, we drove him off, put him to rout, packed him off bagand baggage. I guess he is running yet. You never saw such a scaredbeast in your life."
"I guess he isn't running very fast," returned Cale dryly.
"Why isn't he running?" retorted Stacy, offended at the guide's tone.
"Because I shot him about a mile the other side of the creek,"answered Vaughn. "He was a small bear and he didn't appear to bevery much frightened."
The boys had a good laugh at the fat boy's expense.
"That was another bear, probably the child of the one we chased,"declared Stacy, not to be downed thus easily.
"Perhaps," agreed Cale. "But that doesn't explain the peculiaractions of these fellows, nor of the first one. Charlie, how did thebears act when you first saw them?" he demanded, turning to theIndian.
"Him smell for something--so." The half-breed wen
t through themotions of sniffing over the ground, against the trees, and towardthe tents.
"Just so," nodded Vaughn. "The question is, what caused them to dothat? Something here must have attracted them. Do you know whatit was?"
"Not know," muttered the Indian.
"Do you know, Master Stacy?" fixing a keen gaze on the fat boy.
"How should I know?" replied Stacy indifferently.
"I didn't know but perhaps you might," returned Cale. The guidestood his rifle against a tree and walked about the camp withapparent carelessness, looking into the tents, examining theprovisions through which the bears had foraged. Finally he returnedto Chunky.
"How much of that oil of anise did you use to attract those bears?"he demanded sharply.
Chunky flushed to the roots of his hair.
"Why--I--I--"
"Where is the bottle?"
"I--I threw it away."
"You used all the oil?"
Stacy nodded, with eyes averted.
The boys were beginning to understand. All were grinning.
"So that was one of your tricks, eh?" asked Tad. "Well, it certainlysucceeded."
"What were you trying to do?" insisted the guide. He too was nowsmiling.
"I--I wanted to call the bees."
"Why?"
"I--I thought maybe they'd sting the Indian."
"Did they?" asked Tad.
"They did! They pinked him right in the back of the neck, and youought to have heard that Indian yell." Stacy was looking them in theface now, as he warmed to his subject. "John Charles jumped aboutfourteen and a half feet in the air and let out a war whoop. I'msurprised you folks didn't hear him."
"Where were you all this time?" interjected Rector.
"I was hiding in the tent, 'cause the bees were pretty thick, and theboss bee was scouting for me. I--I guess he must have smelled theoil on my fingers."
The Professor's fingers closed over the arm of the fat boy.
"Stacy!" he said sternly. "What do you think we ought to do withyou?"
"Well," reflected the fat boy, "I reckon you ought to cook me a bearsteak and give me a spread. I'm half starved."
Professor Zepplin released his hold on Chunky's arm, heaving a deepsigh of resignation.
"Perhaps that would be the most sensible thing to do," agreed theguide. "We are all pretty hungry, I reckon, after our long tramp."