CHAPTER TWENTY.
TREEING A BEAR.
The doctor was the only one not taking part in the conversation. Eventhe rude guides listened. All that related to game interested them,even the scientific details given by the hunter-naturalist. The doctorhad ridden on in front of us. Some one remarked that he wanted water tomix with the contents of his flask, and was therefore searching for astream. Be this as it may, he was seen suddenly to jerk his spare horseabout, and spur back to us, his countenance exhibiting symptoms ofsurprise and alarm.
"What is it, doctor?" inquired one.
"He has seen Indians," remarked another.
"A bear--a bear!" cried the doctor, panting for breath; "a grizzly bear!a terrible-looking creature I assure you."
"A bar! d'you say?" demanded Ike, shooting forward on his old mare.
"A bar!" cried Redwood, breaking through the bushes in pursuit.
"A bear!" shouted the others, all putting spurs to their horses, andgalloping forward in a body.
"Where, doctor? Where?" cried several.
"Yonder," replied the doctor, "just by that great tree. I saw him go inthere--a grizzly, I'm sure."
It was this idea that had put the doctor in such affright, and causedhim to ride back so suddenly.
"Nonsense, doctor," said the naturalist, "we are yet far to the east ofthe range of the grizzly bear. It was a black bear you saw."
"As I live," replied the doctor, "it was not black, anything but that.I should know the black bear. It was a light brown colour--almostyellowish."
"Oh! that's no criterion. The black bear is found with many varietiesof colour. I have seen them of the colour you describe. It must be oneof them. The grizzly is not found so far to the eastward, although itis possible we may see them soon; but not in woods like these."
There was no time for farther explanation. We had come up to the spotwhere the bear had been seen; and although an unpractised eye could havedetected no traces of the animal's presence, old Ike, Redwood, and thehunter-naturalist could follow its trail over the bed of fallen leaves,almost as fast as they could walk. Both the guides had dismounted, andwith their bodies slightly bent, and leading their horses after them,commenced tracking the bear. From Ike's manner one would have fanciedthat he was guided by scent rather than by sight.
The trail led us from our path, and we had followed it some hundredyards into the woods. Most of us were of the opinion that the creaturehad never halted after seeing the doctor, but had run off to a greatdistance. If left to ourselves, we should have given over the chase.
The trappers, however, knew what they were about. They asserted thatthe bear had gone away slowly--that it had made frequent halts--thatthey discovered "sign" to lead them to the conclusion that the animal'shaunt was in the neighbourhood--that its "nest" was near. We were,therefore, encouraged to proceed.
All of us rode after the trackers. Jake and Lanty had been left withthe waggon, with directions to keep on their route. After a while weheard the waggon moving along directly in front of us. The road hadangled as well as the bear's trail, and the two were again converging.
Just at that moment a loud shouting came from the direction of thewaggon. It was Lanty's voice, and Jake's too.
"Och! be the Vargin mother! luck there! Awch, mother o' Moses, Jake,such a haste!"
"Golly, Massa Lanty, it am a bar!"
We all heard this at once. Of course we thought of the trail no longer,but made a rush in the direction of the voices, causing the branches tofly on every side.
"Whar's the bar?" cried Redwood, who was first up to the waggon, "whardid ye see't?"
"Yander he goes!" cried Lanty, pointing to a pile of heavy timber, besetwith an undergrowth of cane, but standing almost isolated from the restof the forest on account of the thin open woods that were around it.
We were too late to catch a glimpse of him, but perhaps he would halt inthe undergrowth. If so we had a chance.
"Surround, boys, surround!" cried the Kentuckian, who understoodbear-hunting as well as any of the party. "Quick, round and head him;"and, at the same time, the speaker urged his great horse into a gallop.Several others rode off on the opposite side, and in a few seconds wehad surrounded the cane-brake.
"Is he in it?" cried one.
"Do you track 'im thur, Mark?" cried Ike to his comrade from theopposite side.
"No," was the reply, "he hain't gone out this away."
"Nor hyur," responded Ike.
"Nor here," said the Kentuckian.
"Nor by here," added the hunter-naturalist.
"Belike, then, he's still in the timmor," said Redwood. "Now look outall of yees. Keep your eyes skinned; I'll hustle him out o' thar."
"Hold on, Mark, boy," cried Ike, "hold on thur. Damn the varmint!hyur's his track, paddled like a sheep pen. Wagh, his den's hyur--letme rout 'im."
"Very wal, then," replied the other, "go ahead, old fellow--I'll look tomy side--thu'll no bar pass me 'ithout getting a pill in his guts. Outwi' 'im!" We all sat in our saddles silent and watchful. Ike hadentered the cane, but not a rustle was heard. A snake could not havepassed through it with less noise than did the old trapper.
It was full ten minutes before the slightest sound warned of what he wasabout. Then his voice reached us.
"This way, all of you! The bar's treed."
The announcement filled all of us with pleasant anticipations. Thesport of killing a bear is no everyday amusement, and now that theanimal was "treed" we were sure of him. Some dismounted and hitchedtheir horses to the branches; others boldly dashed into the cane,hurrying to the spot, with the hope of having first shot.
Why was Ike's rifle not heard if he saw the bear treed? This puzzledsome. It was explained when we got up. Ike's words were figurative.The bear had not taken shelter in a tree, but a hollow log, and, ofcourse, Ike had not yet set eyes on him. But there was the log, a hugeone, some ten or more feet in thickness, and there was the hole, withthe well-beaten track leading into it. It was his den. He was there toa certainty.
How to get him out? That was the next question.
Several took their stations, guns in hand, commanding the entrance tothe hollow. One went back upon the log, and pounded it with the butt ofhis gun. To no purpose. Bruin was not such a fool as to walk out andbe peppered by bullets.
A long pole was next thrust up the hollow. Nothing could be felt. Theden was beyond reach.
Smoking was next tried, but with like success. The bear gave no sign ofbeing annoyed with it. The axes were now brought from the waggon. Itwould be a tough job--for the log (a sycamore) was sound enough exceptnear the heart. There was no help for it, and Jake and Lanty went towork as if for a day's rail splitting.
Redwood and the Kentuckian, both good axemen, relieved them, and a deepnotch soon began to make its appearance on each side of the log. Therest of us kept watch near the entrance, hoping the sound of the axemight drive out the game. We were disappointed in that hope, and forfull two hours the chopping continued, until the patience and the armsof those that plied the axe were nearly tired out.
It is no trifling matter to lay open a tree ten feet in diameter. Theyhad chosen the place for their work guided by the long pole. It couldnot be beyond the den, and if upon the near side, of it, the pole wouldthen be long enough to reach the bear, and either destroy him with aknife-blade attached to it, or force him out. This was our plan, andtherefore we were encouraged to proceed.
At length the axes broke through the wood and the dark interior layopen. They had cut in the right place, for the den of the bear wasfound directly under, but no bear! Poles were inserted at bothopenings, but no bear could be felt either way. The hollow ran up nofarther, so after all there was no bear in the log.
There were some disappointed faces about--and some rather roughejaculations were heard. I might say that Ike "cussed a few," and thatwould be no more than the truth. The old trapper seemed to be ashamedof being so take
n in, particularly as he had somewhat exultinglyannounced that the "bar was treed."
"He must have got off before we surrounded," said one.
"Are you sure he came into the timber?" asked another--"that fool,Lanty, was so scared, he could hardly tell where the animal went."
"Be me soul! gintlemen, I saw him go in wid my own eyes, Oil swear--"
"Cussed queer!" spitefully remarked Redwood.
"Damn the bar!" ejaculated Ike, "whur kid the varmint a gone?"
Where was A--? All eyes were turned to look for the hunter-naturalist,as if he could clear up the mystery. He was nowhere to be seen. He hadnot been seen for some time!
At that moment, the clear sharp ring of a rifle echoed in our ears.There was a moment's silence, and the next moment a loud "thump" washeard, as of a heavy body falling from a great height to the ground.The noise startled even our tired horses, and some of them broke theirties and scampered off.
"This way, gentlemen!" said a quiet voice, "here's the bear!"
The voice was A--'s; and we all, without thinking of the horses, hurriedup to the spot. Sure enough, there lay the great brute, a red streamoozing out of a bullet-hole in his ribs.
A-- pointed to a tree--a huge oak that spread out above our heads.
"There he was, in yonder fork," said he. "We might have saved ourselvesa good deal of trouble had we been more thoughtful. I suspected he wasnot in the log when the smoke failed to move him. The brute was toosagacious to hide there. It is not the first time I have known thehunter foiled by such a trick."
The eyes of Redwood were turned admiringly on the speaker, and even oldIke could not help acknowledging his superior hunter-craft.
"Mister," he muttered, "I guess you'd make a darned fust-ratemountain-man. He's a gone Injun when you look through sights."
All of us were examining the huge carcass of the bear--one of thelargest size.
"Your sure it's no grizzly?" inquired the doctor.
"No, doctor," replied the naturalist, "the grizzly never climbs a tree."