Harper's Young People, September 27. 1881 An Illustrated Weekly

THE FAMOUS BEAR-HUNT.

When Tim went home with Bobby he saw Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, and from them received such a kindly greeting that he thought he must be remarkably good in order to repay them for their kindness! He was a happy boy when he went to bed that night, and made more so by seeing Tip stretched out on a rug by the side of the bed whenever he took the trouble to look that way.

On the first morning after Tim's arrival Mr. Tucker, without saying what his intentions were regarding the future of the homeless boy, told him and Bobby they could enjoy themselves after their own fashion for two weeks, at the end of which time school began. Therefore there was nothing to prevent the bear-hunt from taking place, unless it should be the failure of the bears to show themselves.

Bill Thompson was the first of the party to arrive at the rendezvous back of the shed, and almost before he spoke to the boys he made another and a more critical examination of Tip. Bill was not only eager for the fray, but he was thoroughly well armed. He had a murderous-looking carving-knife stuck in a belt that had been hastily made of a strip of black cloth, and in his hands he carried a small shot-gun, which he might have some difficulty in discharging, owing to the fact that he was obliged to carry the lock in his pocket.

When Bill's attention was called to this fact, he explained that he did not depend so much upon the gun to shoot with as he did for use as a club, with which the bear's brains could be easily dashed out. The knife was the weapon in which he put more dependence, and he proved that it was a good one by making shavings of fully half a shingle in less than five minutes.

This display of weapons and air of ferocity on Bill's face so pleased Tim and Bobby that they blamed themselves severely for not having made their own preparations for a fight. That oversight was quickly remedied, when Bobby produced an old army musket, the weight of which made him stagger, and a veteran revolver that had lain at the bottom of the ocean for nearly a year, and was now preserved by Bobby's father as an ornamental rather than a useful relic.

"You'll want the pistol, Tim," he said, as he handed that weapon to his friend, "'cause it'll be a good deal handier to fire when you're close up to the bear, an' you know you'll have to go pretty snug to him so's to keep Tip from eating the skin."

Bobby, with all possible precaution against accidents, loaded the army musket with the powder taken from six fire-crackers, and rammed home five or six small stones in place of bullets. He had no percussion-caps; but he felt certain he could discharge it as well by holding a lighted match at the nipple as if he had all the caps ever made. Owing to Bobby's mother's decided refusal to loan two of her carving-knives, they were obliged to get along without anything of that sort, and depend on the one carried by Bill to skin their game when it was killed.

The other hunters arrived in parties of twos and threes, and each new arrival thought it necessary to make another and more minute examination of Tip, in order to be certain that he was in the best possible condition for the hunt. Each of the new-comers was armed, but none could boast of having more destructive weapons than those carried by the three leaders.

Bill was anxious to start at once, in order, as he said, to get the skin nailed up on the barn before night; and as they were about to set out, Bobby exclaimed:

"Here! how do you s'pose we can get any bears if we let Tip go on ahead? Why, he'll rush off jest as soon as he sees one, an' we can't catch him before he eats 'em all up."

It was almost a shudder that ran through the party as they realized how near they had been to losing their game before it had been caught.

"What shall we do?" asked Bill, completely at a loss to arrange matters. And then, as a happy thought came to him, he cried, "I know now: we can take turns carryin' him."

A look of scorn came upon Bobby's face as this brilliant idea was given words, and he said, almost with a sneer:

"Now what a way that would be, wouldn't it? How do yer s'pose he could smell out the tracks if we didn't let him run on the ground?"

That one question made Bill Thompson feel very cheap indeed, for it showed plainly that he was not posted in bear-hunting, and he was anxious to be looked upon as one who knew all about it.

"What shall we do, then?" he asked, mournfully.

"We must tie a rope round his neck, so's we can hold him back."

Bill actually looked ashamed when this very simple plan was proposed, and he was angry with himself for not having been the first to think of it. But he saw a way to save his reputation.

"That's a good plan," he said, gravely, as if he had thought of it--before, but had not suggested it, hoping a better one would be proposed, "but you'll want more'n one rope. Why, if Tip should see a bear suddenly, he'd break the biggest rope we could get, an' go after him before we'd know anything."

Every boy there agreed with Bill, and they again regarded him as an experienced bear-hunter.

Bobby got two pieces of an old clothes-line, each about five yards long, and these were fastened securely around Tip's neck, while Tim and Bobby each held an end, with the understanding that if the dog struggled very hard to get away, the others of the party were to rush in and help hold him.

The party was ready for the start, and the precautions they took even before they were clear of the shadow of the wood-shed told that they did not intend to lose any game by carelessness. Tim and Bobby went in advance, leading Tip, who did not make the slightest effort to get away, and followed by Bill Thompson, carrying his gun in one hand and his knife in the other. Then came the remainder of the party, near or at a distance, as their fear of bears was much or little.

Although it could hardly be expected that any bear had been so venturesome as to cross a field almost in the centre of the town, Tip was encouraged to smell of the ground, and each of the boys was ready for an immediate attack before they were beyond the sound of Mrs. Tucker's voice.

The march to the edge of the grove was necessarily a slow one, for Tip, finding that he was encouraged to run from one side of the path to the other, did so to his heart's content, while the boys expected each moment to see him start off like a race-horse, and were ready to spring at once to the aid of Tim and Bobby.

If their caution was great before they left the field, it would be almost impossible to find a word to express their movements when they entered the woods. Every weapon was handled as though it was to be used at once, and the greater portion of the time every eye was fixed on Tip. But not once had he pulled at the ropes that held him; not once had he shown any desire to start away at any furious rate of speed. But after half an hour he suddenly smelled of the ground, and then started away on a run.

"He's after the bear now, sure," cried Bill Thompson, as he brandished his knife savagely, and swung his gun around so that it would be ready for use as a club.

At this startling announcement one or two of the boys who had been careful to keep well in the rear ran considerably slower, as if they were perfectly willing their companions should have all the glory and fight, while one of the party actually turned back, and went home.

On sped Tip, now really pulling on the ropes, and Bobby's face grew pale as he thought how rapidly he was being forced toward the dangerous and anxiously expected fight.

Tip, not understanding that two boys were obliged to follow directly behind him, and still hot on the scent of some animal, suddenly darted between a couple of trees standing very near each other.

It was impossible for both Tim and Bobby to pass through this narrow space together; but in their excitement they did not stop to think of that, and the consequence was that they both fell sprawling to the ground, while Tip was brought to a very sudden stop.

The dog seemed rather discouraged by the sudden check to his speed, and it was some time before he could be persuaded to start again. This second race had just begun, and the boys were growing eager again, when Bill Thompson shouted:

"There he is! there he is! Hold on to your dog now, an' let's get all ready before we rush in."

"Where is he?" "Where is he?" asked each one, as he halted and tried to distinguish the form of the animal in the direction pointed out by Bill; but none of them feeling quite as brave as they did a moment before.

"Look right there;" and Bill pointed to a certain spot in the woods where the trees grew thickest. "Now watch, an' you'll see him move."

It was possible to see some dark-colored body moving among the thick foliage, and there was no longer any doubt but that one of the animals they were in search of was very near to them.

A shade of fear came over the faces of quite a number of that hunting party then, and the most frightened-looking one was Bobby Tucker. He who had been so proud a few moments before because he had been given the post of honor was now perfectly willing that some one else should hold Tip when the expected rush was made, and he appeared to have suddenly lost all desire for the bear-hunt.

Bill Thompson now assumed the command of the party, and no one questioned his right to do so. The orders he gave were obeyed as promptly as could have been expected under the circumstances, and he began the delicate task of posting his men in those positions best calculated to bring out their fighting qualities.

Tim and Bobby, being nearer the dangerous animal than the others, were ordered to keep strict watch of the spot where the bear was last seen, and on no account to let him get away without their knowledge.

"Keep your eyes right on him," shouted Bill to the two who were preventing Tip from eating the bear. "The first minute he starts to run let Tip go, an' yell as loud as you can."