Black Bruin: The Biography of a Bear Page 4

  CHAPTER III

  A WILDERNESS BABY

  When the young farmer beheld the great hulk of the black bear lyingmotionless at the foot of the beech, and saw his child lying unharmedin the snow, his eye, that had been so keen at the moment of peril,grew dim and his senses swam, like one upon a high pinnacle, about tofall.

  But it was only for a second. His strong nerves soon restored him, andhe stooped and picked up the baby, although he was so blinded with gladtears that he had to grope for the precious bundle.

  What a miracle it was, he thought; only the watchful care of a specialProvidence could have steadied his hand for that desperate shot. Themore he considered, the more miraculous it seemed, and with a heartwelling up with praise and gratitude, he silently thanked God for thedeliverance, then woke the leafless forest with a glad, "Halloo."

  This was intended for the old hound, and she at once responded with aquick succession of joyous barks.

  The man had been a little uncertain of the direction home, as he hadfollowed the trail feverishly, but the dog's greeting at once set himright. Shielding the baby in his arms, and picking out as good footingas he could in the uncertain light, he made all haste back to hisfaithful canine, whose whines and barks guided him from time to time.

  "It's all right, Hecla, old girl, I've got him," he cried as soon as hecame within speaking distance of the dog. The father's joy was sogreat that he had to impart it to some one.

  He lost no time in untying the dog and with her as a guide they wereable to follow the homeward trail through the darkest places in safety.He must make all possible haste, for he remembered the look of muteagony in his wife's eyes, as she stood at the door watching hisdeparture.

  "Home, home, Hecla!" he cried, each time they plunged into deeper gloomthan usual. "We must hurry."

  But the good dog needed no urging. Out and in, unerringly, she ledhim, until the open pasture lot was reached.

  Then with a glad bark she bounded over the stone wall and startedacross the fields at a pace that her master could not keep. He did notcall her back, for he felt sure that she could impart the glad news toher mistress before his coming, and anything to relieve the suspense athome was desirable.

  While the two had been floundering through the deep woods upon theirseemingly hopeless quest, the grief-stricken mother had paced thekitchen floor, wringing her hands and moaning. Occasionally, as themoments dragged slowly by, she would go to the piazza and listen untilit seemed that her ear-drums would burst with the intensity of hereffort, but only the moaning of the wind, and the usual night soundscame to her ears.

  At last, in one of these anxious periods of listening, she thought shedetected the barking of old Hecla, but was not certain. Perhaps it wasonly the wind playing pranks upon her overwrought nerves, or thehooting of an owl.

  She waited expectantly and a few seconds later, hearing the old hound'sglad bark as she bounded over the wall between the pasture and themowing, knew that John had sent her with a message for the mistress ofClover-hill Farm. There was something in the dog's bark that put hopeinto her heart, and she ran to meet her.

  "Hecla, Hecla, old friend, what is it?" cried the mother, as thefaithful canine, panting from the hard run, capered breathlessly abouther mistress, wagging her tail and quivering with excitement.

  "Can't you tell me, Hecla? Is my baby safe?"

  For answer the dog gave several glad barks, and barking and capering,plainly invited her mistress to follow her and see that she broughtgood news.

  The mother, whose arms seemed so empty, was only too glad to do this.It had only been because of her husband's stern command and for fearthat her presence might defeat the enterprise, that she had stayed athome at all.

  With the trained sight of a woodsman, John saw them coming long beforehis wife saw him, and he hallooed to them at the top of his voice.

  "It's all right, mother," he cried, "I've got little John."

  A few seconds later he placed the baby in its mother's arms and sankdown in the snow exhausted from his long, hard run.

  When he had recovered his breath and had gasped out a few words ofexplanation, all hurried back to the farmhouse, the old dog leading theway.

  In half an hour's time the cozy kitchen was righted. The door had beenrehung and the accustomed warmth and good cheer had returned to theroom, where the kettle hummed and the clock ticked just as thoughnothing had happened.

  But to the young couple, who sat by the fireside talking it over, thatlast half hour seemed like a nightmare.

  The following morning, when the first faint streak of daylight waswhitening the east, the young farmer and his faithful dog again tookthe trail for the woods.

  How different was their going now, from that of the night before!Then, an awful fear had gripped the man's heart, and the sympatheticdog had felt her master's misery; but now, the man's step was quick andjoyous, and the dog bounded about him with barks of delight.

  The tracks made the night before were still quite plain, and they sooncame to the beech where the bear had stood when the hair-raising shotwas made. There lay the great carcass in the snow just as it had thenight before.

  The coat was long and glossy, of a deep black on the outside, andrather lighter on the under side. Her forearms were strong and herclaws were most ample. Her jaw was massive, and altogether she was abeast that one would not care for a close acquaintance with, especiallyif she thought her young were in danger.

  It was useless to think of moving the prize without a team, so theexultant farmer went home for a horse and a sled, and in half an hour'stime the huge bear was lying upon the porch of the farmhouse.

  News of the startling event spread rapidly and half a dozen neighborsgathered to see the bear weighed. To the astonishment of all, shetipped the beam at three hundred pounds, which is a few pounds short ofthe record for the largest she-bear ever weighed.

  Two of the neighbors helped remove the fine skin and received somebear-steak in return for their labor.

  Late in the afternoon, the now famous hunter again shouldered his gunand set off for the woods, followed by old Hecla. He was not satisfiedin his own mind, that they had found out all there was to know aboutthe strange appearance of the bear at the farmhouse. If there shouldbe more "goods in the case," as he expressed it, so much the better;but if not, he would keep his own counsel and no one would suspect thathe had been upon a second bear-hunt.

  He went directly to the tree where the dead bear had lain, and examinedthe snow carefully. He soon found a well-defined trail that ledfarther back into the woods. This he followed easily, and it broughthim to an old fallen hemlock, which was partly covered with snow. Thetracks led into the deepest, thickest portion of the top and thereended at the mouth of a burrow that had been tunneled down underneath.

  The hunter got a long pole and prodded about in the tree-top until hesatisfied himself that there was nothing formidable inside. Thensetting his gun against a tree trunk, he crawled into the burrow.

  He had entered only three or four feet, when a weak, pitiful whinegreeted his ears. "Just as I thought," he muttered. "There are cubshere."

  A few feet farther down he found them,--two astonishingly smallbear-cubs. One whined pitifully and struggled to his feet as though inanticipation of supper, but the other was cold and stiff. It hadevidently been dead for some time.

  The excited bear-hunter took them both in his arms and clambered out ofthe den, feeling well repaid for his search.

  Holding the cub that was still alive under his coat for warmth andprotection from the wind, he hurried home, while the hound leaped abouthim and sniffed suspiciously at his coat.

  His wife was sitting in the cozy kitchen sewing, and occasionallyjogging the cradle, when he entered and, without a word of explanation,dropped the live cub in her lap.

  "O John," she cried, "what a dear little dog he is. Where did you gethim?"

  "Under an old tree-top in the woods," he replied. "It isn't a puppy,it is a
bear-cub.

  "Here is his brother," and he held up the dead cub for her inspection."I guess the old bear came round and stole your baby to take the placeof her dead cub. There are tracks behind the house where she came upto the window and stood upon her hind legs and looked in. Sort oftaking inventory, as you might say."

  The woman went to the north kitchen window and to her greatastonishment saw that her husband had not been joking. There werebear-tracks, and also two large paw-prints upon the window-sill thattold of a silent watcher of their domestic fireside.

  A box was brought from the wood-shed and lined with an old blanket, andmilk was warmed for the little wilderness baby, that had found its wayso strangely into the farmhouse.

  It was ravenously hungry and the man held it, while the wife pouredwarm milk, a few drops at a time, into its mouth. At first the processwas rather laborious, but after a few hours the young bear would gulpdown the warm milk gladly.

  Thus the bear-cub began his life at the farmhouse, lying in a warm boxbehind the stove and drinking milk from a saucer. Most of his days andnights he spent in sleeping, as is the wont of young animals, and thiswas nature's sure way of making him strong and sleek.

  The following Saturday the farmer went to town, where he was muchlionized as a bear-hunter and the whole story had to be told over andover to each one he met. That night at the supper-table he remarked tohis wife that he had seen Dave Holcome, a famous trapper andbear-hunter in his day, and had asked him what he thought about thebear's stealing the baby.

  "What did he say?" inquired the wife, all interest.

  "Wal," drawled her husband, in exact imitation of Dave, "bars aredurned curus critters, almost as curus as women. You can hunt and trap'um all your life an' think you know all about 'um, then along willcome a bar that will teach you difrunt. There ain't no use in makin'rules about bar ettyket, cuz ef you do, some miserable pig-headed barwill break 'um all ter smash, jest like this 'ere one did. But I thinkthere is a good deal surer way uv accountin' for the critter's actionthan what you say. It's my idee that he mistook the baby for a youngpig."

  "The wretch," exclaimed the indignant wife, but her husband onlylaughed until the tears ran down his cheeks.

  "You didn't get any mail, did you?" she asked, when his mirth hadsubsided.

  "Yes, I did," he answered. "Here is a letter. I had forgotten allabout it." The letter proved to be from a town thirty or forty milesto the north, and was as follows:

  "DEAR SIR: I have been much interested in reading in our local paperthe account of a strange visitor that you had at your house early inthe week. I think I may be able to shed some light on thatextraordinary event.

  "About eight years ago I secured a bear-cub when it was still small andbrought it up in my household. There was at the same time in my familya baby to which the cub became much attached. No dog was ever moredevoted to a child, than was the bear-cub as the two grew up together.They were constant companions and were inseparable.

  "Finally the bear became so strong a partisan of the child that she wasreally jealous of the rest of the family. She seemed to think that thechild belonged to her. The second summer on several occasions the twostrayed far from home. The bear seemed to like to toll the child away,where she could have it all to herself.

  "One day when the boy refused to follow where its shaggy companion led,the bear fastened her teeth in the man-cub's clothes and carried hersmall master, kicking and protesting, to the woods, where both werefound some hours later.

  "I interfered at this point and shipped the bear away to a summerhotel, where they wanted something to amuse the visitors. She soontired of the company and escaped to the wild.

  "Now I am confident that our old Blackie and your bear are one and thesame, but the matter is easily settled. Our bear had lost a toe on herleft hind leg, the consequence of getting in front of the mowingmachine in the tall grass when she was small. Please examine yourspecimen in this particular and let me hear from you."

  "The riddle is solved," exclaimed the husband excitedly tossing theletter across the table to his wife. "I noticed the missing toe when Iremoved the skin. It is a great relief to have the matter cleared up."