CHAPTER V.
WHAT CAME DOWN THE CHIMNEY.
"It's a bear!" whooped Steve, as he made a headlong dash for the cornerwhere his double barrel stood.
Forgotten just then was the injunction of the old trapper that theyshould not shoot any thing that wore fur, as it would cheat him out ofall his expected profits.
If a bear became so bold as to enter the cabin by way of the chimney hemust surely be treated, with scant ceremony. Buckshot or birdshot, itmattered little which the gun contained, since at close quarters the loadwould carry like a large bullet.
But Steve had not even managed to lay a hand on his gun, when he wasamazed to hear above the barking of the two dogs, loud shrieks oflaughter from Max, Owen, and Toby.
Even the hoarser notes of the trapper seemed to join in. And when therechanced to be a little break in all this racket, Steve caught a wailingvoice crying aloud:
"Put me out! Somebody throw a bucket of water over me, and put me out!I'm all a-fire! Why can't you help a feller?"
A figure was dancing around like mad, now slapping at his trousers leg,and then trying to reach the middle of his back, where his coat seemed tobe smoldering.
It was Bandy-legs.
Steve instantly recognized his chum, and this fact, taken with the noisein the chimney, gave the thing away.
Bandy-legs had tried to play a prank on them, and, as usual, made a sorrymess of it.
While sitting there and looking at the wide-throated chimney, perhaps hismind went out to what Jim had told about the curious bear which, huntingaround on the roof of a cabin to ascertain where that fine odor of hamscame from, fell down the chimney.
He would climb upon the roof and lower a make-believe wildcat, fashionedout of an old moth-eaten skin Jim had thrown away.
That accounted for Bandy-legs' astonishing announcement that he would goout and gather some of the wood for the night.
It also explained to Max just why he had been stout string that lay uponthe trapper's table. This would be needed in the carrying out of histrick.
But, like the incautious bear, Bandy-legs had also leaned too far overthe top of the chimney. Perhaps he wanted, not to sniff the smoked hamsbelow, as in the case of Bruin, but to hear the shouts of consternationwhen his make-believe bobcat landed in the fireplace, apparently jumpingup and down as Bandy-legs jerked the string.
The consequence had been that he fell into the opening, and, landing onall fours, scattered the little fire in every direction.
But seeing that the boy's clothes were really on fire in several places,Max grabbed up the first thing he could think of that might be dependedon to extinguish the smoldering cloth.
"Hold on, that's my supper!" shouted Trapper Jim, clutching the hand ofMax before he could empty the kettle. "Here's the water-bucket; usethat."
And Max did so, drenching poor dancing Bandy-legs from head to foot withthe contents of the pail.
"That's the time Bandy-legs came near getting more than his share of thegrub," declared Owen, who was busily engaged stamping out some ofthe smoldering brands that had been scattered around so promiscuouslywhen the sprawling figure of the boy landed in their midst.
"Somebody carry that old skin outside," said Trapper Jim. "It's burningmore or less, and we'll have the cabin so full of smell we won't be ableto stay in it much longer."
Toby volunteered to do this, although he had to handle the thingcarefully so as not to get burned.
"I'll go after another bucket of water," remarked Max; "and I'd adviseour practical joker here to jump out of those wet duds and get into somedry ones in a hurry."
Bandy-legs, looking disgusted and rather silly, was beginning to shiver,as the door, which now stood open to ventilate the cabin, allowed thechilly air of approaching evening to enter.
"Guess I will," he remarked; "'cause I've got that wood to gather."
"You bet you have," declared Steve; "we don't let you off from that job.And when you've got your hand in, we'll expect you to take care of thefuel business right along, see?"
"See you in Guinea first," muttered Bandy-legs, bristling up.
They could never coax him to tell what he had really intended doing atthe time his treacherous heels slipped on the roof, and he fell down thebig opening through which the smoke escaped.
Still, no one needed explanations. The fact of his lowering the oldabandoned pelt, bundled up so as to look as much like a live bobcat aspossible, spoke for itself.
Somehow or other this trip seemed to be particularly hard on practicaljokers. Owen gravely remarked that all who were ordinarily given toplaying pranks would take notice.
"Needn't look at me that way when you say that," remarked Steve. "I usedto be a great hand for jokes, but never again. I've reformed, I have."
"Y-y-yes, like f-f-fun you have," scoffed Toby, who knew Steve "like abook," and had no faith in his professed change of heart.
After a while things looked comfortable again.
The fire burned cheerily on the hearth and Jim's kettle, hanging from aniron bar that could be let down, steamed and bubbled, and began sendingout appetizing odors that even Steve sniffed with less resentment than hehad anticipated.
"What d'ye think of it now, Steve?" asked Uncle Jim.
"Huh, if you mean the smell, why, it ain't so very bad," replied the boy."Fact is, makes me think of rabbit stew, some."
"Beats any rabbit you ever ate; just wait," prophesied the trapper, whoknew that once Steve overcame his prejudice he would admit as muchhimself.
Bandy-legs had finished dressing, and as he lacked certain garments tocomplete his attire, the other boys temporarily helped him out. When hisown were dry he would return the borrowed articles.
As though desirous of doing penance because of his wretched failure as aprank player, Bandy-legs did work, bringing wood to the outside of thecabin with unwonted zeal.
Indeed, the trapper finally had to stop him.
"Looks like you meant to swamp us with firewood, son," he remarked,surveying the pile that was heaped up against the side of the cabin.
"Huh, thought I'd get enough while I was about it," Bandy-legs replied.
"Well, you've done yourself proud, my boy, and I reckon I'd stop now.We've got all we can use till to-morrow night. And I don't like too big astack against the cabin wall. A spark from the chimney might set hergoing, and I'd hate to be burned out."
The supper was a success.
Of course they had plenty of other things to eat besides Steve's petdish. The boys made sure of this, not fancying the idea of having todepend upon the musquash alone.
All of them but Steve tasted it and declared it fine. He could not becoaxed to even sample it at the time; but Old Jim believed Steve wouldcome around in time.
"It's just because these plump little critters are so common," heremarked, with a smile of satisfaction, as he emptied the balance of thestew into his own pannikin. "If they cost four dollars each, now, andonly the millionaires could buy 'em, you'd think they beat anythinggoing."
"Yes," said bookworm Owen, "that's the way it was with diamond-backterrapin. Time was in Virginia and North Carolina, yes, in Maryland, too,when a man hired out to a planter along the coast, he had it entered inthe contract that he was not to be fed on terrapin. They were looked onat that time as common stuff. To-day the rich pay five dollars apiece fordecent-sized little fellows. You're right, Uncle Jim, it makes a lot ofdifference."
Talking in this strain, and picking up useful as well as interestinginformation from time to time, as Trapper Jim explained things to theboys who were his guests, the evening passed pleasantly away.
Even Bandy-legs seemed to forget his recent troubles part of the time.
Max, seeing him rub various portions of his body tenderly, asked whetherhe had really been burned. And when the baffled joker was induced to showseveral red marks, Max insisted on applying a soothing lotion, which tookout much of the pain.
It was an evening long to be remembered by the boys.
Steve's turn tooccupy the extra bunk had come around, and he felt in high feather inconsequence, while the other boys had to select their places on thefloor.
But everyone seemed in the best of humor, and the soft furs promised tomake just as good beds as they could wish.
When Max stepped out just before retiring to see how the weather promisedfor the morrow, he found a clear sky, the moon just peeping into view,and a wholesome tang in the air.
And as Max stood listening to the far-away mournful call of an owl to itsmate, and noted the flood of soft moonlight, it was no wonder he said tohimself:
"I tell you it's good to be here!"