With Trapper Jim in the North Woods

CHAPTER XVI.

"WHOOP!" shouted Steve, as he made a headlong plunge in the direction of the cabin door, closely followed by the other two.

Of course all of them were after their guns, and it hardly seemed five seconds to Toby, panting without, ere his companions were tumbling pellmell through the cabin door again, each clutching his favorite weapon.

"Lead us to him, Toby!" commanded Steve, arrogantly.

"Yes, show us the big hulking beast that devoured your fish, Toby," said Bandy-legs, "we'll fix it up with him. I'm no slouch of a bear killer myself."

"Aw, rats!" scoffed Steve. "This ain't one of your docile trapped bear kind, Bandy-legs. This one can run like all get-out. If he ever starts after you, it's dollars to doughnuts you'd never get away on them short pins of yours."

"Can bears climb trees?" asked Bandy-legs, nervously.

"Well, I should say yes, black bears especially. They live half the time up in trees," replied Steve, who was pushing on just behind Toby himself.

Whereupon Bandy-legs discreetly allowed Max to pass him also. Since Nature had placed a serious handicap on him when dealing out those short legs, it seemed only right that he should be allowed a little extra distance. Then, in case the hungry fish-eating bear did see fit to charge them, all of the boys would be placed upon something like an equal footing.

Toby was furious by now.

He might have been simply frightened at the time he made his appearance before the cabin, but that feeling was rapidly giving way to anger. And bursting almost with indignation, he had to try and express himself to his comrades, despite the impediment in his speech, which was always worse when Toby grew excited.

"B-b-been all the b-b-blessed m-m-mornin' a-c-c-coaxin' them p-p-pickerel to t-t-take hold, and h-h-here that b-b-bloomin' old c-c-crocodile of a b-b-bear had to s-s-swallow h-h-half of 'em in one b-b-big b-b-bite!"

Max chuckled as he listened. He even found time to wonder whether Toby, if pressed, knew what sort of animal he meant by a "crocodile of a bear." But then a good deal of allowance must be made for a stuttering boy, and especially when he has a grievance as big as the one Toby shouldered.

"There's the pond ahead," cried Steve; "now show us your old bear."

"Come this way," said Toby. "I g-g-guess he's eat up all my s-s-string; and now he's hunting f-f-f or the can of b-b-bait."

He led them into a thick part of the wood.

"L-l-look!" whispered Toby, pointing.

"It is a bear, as sure as you live!" exclaimed Max.

"C-c-course it is," Toby went on; "w-w-what'd you think m-m-made me run? G-g-guess I know a s-s-stump when I see one."

Max held the impetuous Steve back.

"Wait," he said, "and let's all fire together. This bear isn't held by a trap, and if you only wound him there'd be a pretty kettle of fish."

"Ain't no f-f-fish left; he's d-d-devoured even my b-b-bait, the old glutton!" bellowed Toby, shaking his fist toward the bear.

Bruin evidently had enjoyed his unexpected meal immensely. Likely enough he had never before in all his life been offered a fish dinner gratis. Perhaps some of these other two-legged creatures that drew near, holding the funny sticks in their hands, might offer him another nice mess of pickerel fresh caught.

So the bear stood there on the edge of the pond watching them approach, as though not a particle afraid, only curious—and still fish hungry.

"See him licking his lips, would you!" cried Bandy-legs, still in the rear.

"L-l-liked 'em so m-m-much, he w-w-wants m-m-more, hang him!"

"We'll give him some cold lead instead," declared Steve, holding his double-barrel ready so he could shoot from the left shoulder; "see if he'll be able to digest it."

"He'll die just now, anyhow, if all of us nail him," remarked Max, laughing at the way the bear stood there watching them spread out like a fan.

"Aren't we close enough. Max?" asked Bandy-legs, who was nearly twice as far away as the two bolder spirits,

"Yes," piped up Steve, "let's get to work. You count three, Max; and remember, Bandy-legs, don't you dare shoot till you hear him say 'three' plain as dirt."

"But, Steve," said Max.

"What d'ye want?" grumbled the other, trembling with eagerness to begin operations.

"I hope you've only got one hammer raised," continued Max. "It'd be pretty tough if you fired both barrels again, and lamed your left shoulder, too."

"Cracky! I guess you're right, Max. Wait a few seconds till I set one hammer down. I ain't going to take the chances. Shooting left-handed's bad enough, but what'd I do if I lamed that arm, too!"

"Try it w-w-with your l-l-legs!" observed Toby.

"All ready!" called out Max.

"Q-q-quick! He's m-m-moving off!" shouted Toby.

"All the better," said Max, coolly. "We can get a good aim at his side now; just back of the shoulder, remember, Bandy-legs!"

"C-c-count!" begged Toby, who hated to think of the bold fish robber getting off scot-free after his recent raid.

The bear was ambling off. Perhaps he had come to the wise conclusion that too much fish at one time was bad for a bear's digestion. And then, again, he did not altogether like the looks of all these queer two-legged creatures with those crooked black sticks which they kept poking out at him.

He would not run away, because, of course, he was not really afraid; but even a bear might be allowed to conduct a masterly retreat.

"One!" called out Max.

The three guns were leveled.

"Two!"

Then cheeks pressed the stocks and eyes glanced along the tubes, while itching fingers began to play with waiting triggers.

"Three!"

It was almost the roar of a cannon that followed. Three guns had spoken almost in the same breath.

"H-h-he's g-g-gone!" yelped Toby, who could see better than any of the others, because no little puff of white powder smoke obscured his vision.

A tremendous thrashing in the water told them that the wounded bear must have toppled over into the partly frozen pond.

"Look out for him!" cried Max.

He had ejected the used cartridge from his magazine rifle with one quick motion. Another sent a fresh one into the firing chamber.

Steve had drawn back the second hammer of his gun, and in this fashion then the two chums advanced straight toward the spot where they had last seen the bear.

Bandy-legs, more cautious, kept farther off, though he, too, aimed to reach the border of the little lake, in order to see what was going on.

"Got him!" whooped Steve, when he discovered that the bear was evidently fatally wounded, and fell back into the water every time he tried to climb the bank.

It was Max who thought to mercifully put an end to the stricken beast's sufferings by another well-directed shot from his rifle.

The bear was now dead. Even Toby put in his claim to a partnership in bringing about its demise. The right of first discovery rested with him, and he was ready to take up a defense of his claim at any time.

So, in order to avoid all bad feelings, and insure peace in the family hereafter, Max declared that the honor should be jointly shared by tie whole four of them.

"Whenever we speak of 'our' bear, you'll know which one we mean," he remarked; "and, now, the next thing is to get the old chap up on dry land."

Securing some rope and a couple of blocks he had seen at the cabin, doubtless used when Trapper Jim wanted to haul logs, or with one man's power do a three-man job, Max fashioned a block and tackle.

With this they easily got the bear up the bank.

Then Max tried his hand at removing the skin, after which he cut up the bear, with Steve's assistance. And before Trapper Jim and Owen got back from setting a dozen more muskrat traps, as well as attending to those that had been neglected on the preceding day, everything needful had been done.

Great indeed was the surprise of Trapper Jim when he finally arrived, tired and likewise hungry, to smell cooking bear steaks, and discover not one bear skin stretched out properly to cure, but two.

The last one had been somewhat torn where the various leaden missiles had passed through. But the trapper assured the boys that if placed in the hands of a good fur dealer it could be easily sewed up, and would make them an elegant rug for their club room,

"Every time you walk on it you'll remember this delightful little vacation spent with Trapper Jim in the North Woods," he declared.

"And it will always have just a faint fishy smell to me, because the rascal ate up all Toby's morning catch before we got him," remarked Max.

"S-s-say, we had f-f-fish for s-s-supper last night, didn't we?" demanded Toby.

"That's right, we did," spoke up Steve, "and right sweet pickerel, too, thanks to the one who stuck it out all afternoon watching his poles and keeping one eye on the woods for the mate of our bear to appear. Oh, they were nice, all right! And I just dote on pickerel, all but the boot-jack bones."

It can be safely assumed that they were a merry crowd that night.

The boys, realizing that their period for fun up in those glorious North Woods had been extended another week, were bubbling over with joy.

Trapper Jim had everything to make him contented, and even happy. Every time he touched that elegant fox skin he felt like shaking hands with himself because of the satisfaction it gave him—not so much the value of the pelt as the proud consciousness that he had finally been enabled to capture another of those rare and almost priceless prizes which every fur taker dreams about.

And then, again, doubtless Uncle Jim found great reason for thankfulness every time he glanced toward Ed Whitcomb. What had been a vague, half-formed dream in his mind bade fair to become a reality. He was Susie's boy, and circumstances had thrown them together in a way so strange that it was surely intended that they should part no more.

As for the wounded man, although he might often deep down in his heart deplore the weakness that had taken possession of him at sight of the captured silver fox, still, since it had brought Jim and him together, and revealed a new and entirely unsuspected bond between them, why should he regret it.

Besides, Trapper Jim declared he owed the fox skin to Ed, anyhow. He had discovered that the animal had gnawed its foot almost off, and long before Jim and the boys came along would have gone limping off on three legs only that Ed appeared just in time to knock it on the head.

With nearly two weeks ahead of them, it was only natural that Max and his four chums should anticipate other glorious times. And that they met with no disappointment in this respect the reader who has followed them thus far with interest will discover when he reads the next volume of the series:

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