THE BEAR HUNT
"Is Don round, Mrs. Cameron?"
"Mercy me, Hughie! Did ye sleep in the woods? Come away in.
Ye're a sight for sore eyes. Come away in. And how's ye're mother and all?""All right, thank you. Is Don in?""Don? He's somewhere about the barn. But come away, man, there's a bit bannock here, and some honey.""I'm in a hurry, Mrs. Cameron, and I can't very well wait," said Hughie, trying to preserve an evenness of tone and not allow his excitement to appear.
"Well, well! What's the matter, whatever?" When Hughie refused a "bit bannock" and honey, something must be seriously wrong.
"Nothing at all, but I'm just wanting Don for a--for something.""Well, well, just go to the old barn and cry at him."Hughie found Don in the old barn, busy "rigging up" his plow, for the harvest was in and the fall plowing was soon to begin.
"Man, Don!" cried Hughie, in a subdued voice, "it's the greatest thing you ever heard!""What is it now, Hughie? You look fairly lifted. Have you seen a ghost?""A ghost? No, something better than that, I can tell you."Hughie drew near and lowered his voice, while Don worked on indifferently.
"It's a bear, Don."
Don dropped his plow. His indifference vanished. The Camerons were great hunters, and many a bear had they, with their famous black dogs, brought home in their day, but not for the past year or two; and never had Don bagged anything bigger than a fox or a coon.
"Where did you see him?"
"I didn't see him." Don looked disgusted. "But he was in our house last night.""Look here now, stop that!" said Don, gripping Hughie by the jacket and shaking him.
But Hughie's summer in the harvest-field had built up his muscles, and so he shook himself free from Don's grasp, and said, "Look out there! I'm telling you the truth. Last night father was out late and the supper things were left on the table--some honey and stuff--and after father had been asleep for a while he was wakened by some one tramping about the house. He got up, came out of his room, and called out, 'Jessie, where are the matches?' And just then there was an awful crash, and something hairy brushed past his leg in the dark and got out of the door. We all came down, and there was the table upset, the dishes all on the floor, and four great, big, deep scratches in the table.""Pshaw! It must have been Fido.""Fido was in the barn, and just mad to get out; and besides, the tracks are there yet behind the house. It was a bear, sure enough, and I'm going after him.""You?""Yes, and I want you to come with the dogs.""Oh, pshaw! Dear knows where he'll be now," said Don, considering.
"Like enough in the Big Swamp or in McLeod's beech bush. They're awful fond of beechnuts. But the dogs can track him, can't they?""By jingo! I'd like to get him," said Don, kindling under Hughie's excitement. "Wait a bit now. Don't say a word. If Murdie hears he'll want to come, sure, and we don't want him. You wait here till I get the gun and the dogs.""Have you got any bullets or slugs?""Yes, lots. Why? Have you a gun?"
"Yes, you just bet! I've got our gun. What did you think I was going to do? Put salt on his tail? I've got it down the lane.""All right, you wait there for me.""Don't be long," said Hughie, slipping away.
It was half an hour before Don appeared with the gun and the dogs.
"What in the world kept you? I thought you were never coming,"said Hughie, impatiently.
"I tell you it's no easy thing to get away with mother on hand, but it's all right. Here's your bullets and slugs. I've brought some bannocks and cheese. We don't know when we'll get home. We'll pick up the track in your brule. Does any one know you're going?""No, only Fusie. He wanted to come, but I wouldn't have it. Fusie gets so excited." Hughie's calmness was not phenomenal. He could hardly stand still for two consecutive seconds.
"Well, let's go," and Don set off on a trot, with one of the black dogs in leash and the other following, and after him came Hughie running lightly.
In twenty minutes they were at the manse clearing.
"Now," said Don, pulling up, "where did you say you saw his track?""Just back of the house there, and round the barn, and then straight for the brule."The boys stood looking across the fallen timber toward the barn.
"There's Fido barking," said Hughie. "I bet he's on the scent now.""Yes," answered Don, "and there's your father, too.""Gimmini crickets! so it is," said Hughie, slowly. "I don't think it's worth while going up there to get that track. Can't we get it just as well in the woods here?" There were always things to do about the house, and besides, the minister knew nothing of Hughie's familiarity with the gun, and hence would soon have put a stop to any such rash venture as bear-hunting.
The boys waited, listening to Fido, who was running back and forward between the brule and the house barking furiously. The minister seemed interested in Fido's manoeuvres, and followed him a little way.
"Man!" said Hughie, in a whisper, "perhaps he'll go and look for the gun himself. And Fido will find us, sure. I say, let's go.""Let's wait a minute," said Don, "to see what direction Fido takes, and then we'll put our dogs on."In a few minutes Hughie breathed more freely, for his father seemed to lose his interest in Fido, and returned slowly to the house.
"Now," said Hughie, "let's get down into the brule as near Fido as we can get."Cautiously the boys made their way through the fallen timber, keeping as much as possible under cover of the underbrush. But though they hunted about for some time, the dogs evidently got no scent, for they remained quite uninterested in the proceedings.
