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Through Forest and Fire, a novel by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 29. "Help! Help!" |
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_ CHAPTER XXIX. "HELP! HELP!"
As has been stated, it was what was known as the red oak, very large, with branching limbs at no great distance from the ground. "_I see him!--I see him!_" whispered Herbert, just as he caught his foot in a root and pitched forward. "Where?" Herbert picked up his hat, muttered something impatient, and then looked upward again, and found he was mistaken. "I thought that big knot up there was the bear," replied the city youth, in meeker tones. The boys slowly circled about the tree again and again, back and forth, scrutinizing trunk, limbs, and twigs so closely that a cat could not have concealed itself from view. The result was disheartening: there was no bear in sight. "May be the trunk is hollow," suggested Sam, "and he has gone into a hole." They struck against the bark, but the sound showed that the wood beneath was solid. Besides, an examination of the bark itself failed to bring to view the scratching and abrasion that would have been made by a bear in going up, and especially in coming down, the trunk. Bowser, beyond all question, had been "barking up the wrong tree." "You're a pretty hunting dog, ain't you?" sneered Sam Harper, addressing the canine; "come here, that I may give you another switching." But Bowser wheeled about, and, taking the trail again, trotted to the southward, his nose close to the ground, while he bayed at intervals of a few seconds. "The bear ain't far off, you can make up your mind to that," said Herbert, still all excitement; "if we keep close to the dog, we'll run upon the other pretty soon." In fact, the youthful Watrous showed such an interest in the sport that he forgot the danger which always accompanies it. Had he stopped a minute or so to reflect, he would have seen that now was the time for the three to stick together, for never was there likely to be an occasion which would demonstrate more certainly that in union there is strength. Forgetful of this, Herbert sped forward so fast that in a brief while he vanished from view. Nick shouted to him not to hasten so fast, but the young gentleman was not to be checked in that style, and he kept up his flight with undiminished speed. "Let him go, then," said Nick, dropping down to a rapid walk, in which Sam joined him; "his legs are so long that he can outrun us both." "Which is a good thing." "Why so?" "As soon as he catches sight of the bear, he will turn about and run with might and main." "I'm not so sure of that," remarked Nick, who began to think there was more in Herbert than they had suspected. "He is so anxious to get the animal that he doesn't know the risk he is running. The fight you had with the buck yesterday shows what a more harmless animal will do when he turns to fight the hunter." "But Herbert will be likely to wait till we come up to him if he sees the bear." "There's no telling what such a fellow will do when he loses his head; the only chance for him is that we may be so close that we can turn in and help him." "Then we had better hurry." Thereupon the two broke into a run again, which they kept up till pretty well tired out. They could hear Bowser baying at no great distance, and, consequently, were sure that Herbert himself was not far off. "If we three come upon him we ought to be able to kill him without much risk to ourselves--that is, if we use any sort of care in taking aim." "We must try and do that--hark!" At that instant they were startled by the sharp report of a rifle, the distance and direction leaving no doubt that it was fired by Herbert Watrous. Sam and Nick fairly turned pale, and something like a feeling of envy came over them at the belief that Herbert, after all his boasting, had succeeded in bringing down the royal game without their help. The shot was fired so close that, as they hastened forward again, they expected to come upon the hunter and his game every minute. "Hallo! what does that mean?" The question was caused by the sudden appearance of Bowser, who was limping toward them in a panic of terror. At every leap he uttered a yelp, which was of pain and fear. The boys stopped, and the hound, running up, crouched down at their feet, whining and moaning. "He is hurt!" said Sam, who noticed that he was bleeding from a wound in the shoulder, where the claws of some animal had struck him with great force. "It was done by the bear," said Nick, "and he hit Bowser a hard blow; I shouldn't wonder if it kills him." Sam stooped over the dog and tried to soothe him by patting and speaking kind words. "He is badly hurt, but I hope he isn't going to die. Poor fellow! we have been unjust to him; he's a good deal braver dog than we gave him credit for." They were still patting and soothing the wounded hound, when the report of Herbert's rifle was heard again. Sam and Nick started up and stared in the direction whence the sound came. "He has got the bear--" Just then the voice of Herbert was heard ringing through the forest arches: "Quick! quick! help! help! the bear has got me! Hurry up, boys, or I'm a goner!" The lads dashed forward, excited and fearful they would be too late. The voice of the imperiled hunter rang out again. "Quick! quick! the bear has got me sure! Hurry boys, hurry, for pity's sake!" The next instant Sam and Nick came upon an extraordinary scene. _ |
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