Rocky Mountain Boys; Or, Camping in the Big Game Country

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XII

  BURNING OUT A HONEY THIEF

  But it seemed that Felix was not destined to absorb all the adventuresthat happened to be adrift up there in that neck of the woods adjoiningthe mountain chain.

  And the next one had to fall to the lot of Tom. It was such an admixtureof peril and humor, that whenever either of the chums happened to glanceup at the wall of the cabin, where the wretched looking pelt of a blackbear was stretched, almost invariably a grin would have to follow.

  This is the way it came about:

  Just a few days after Felix had been in that queer mix-up with thewounded buck, and the two guides, Tom was on his way back from a littleline of traps, when the notion came to him to step aside from his beatenpath, and explore a dense patch of timber into which neither of them hadhappened thus far to stroll.

  There was no telling what he might not discover, for it certainly lookeddark and forbidding enough to shelter almost anything. As his catch offurs that day chanced to be limited to a couple of muskrats, and asingle mink, Tom was just in the humor for striking at something out ofthe common.

  He hung the pelts from the limb of a tree, and in plain sight, so thathe might not have any particular difficulty about recovering the same;and with his rifle in readiness, plunged into the tangled growth, whichwas thicker than anything Tom had noticed around them.

  Progress was rather slow, for he had to pass around many obstacles, sodense was the vegetation in this low lying spot adjoining the marshytract where he found the muskrat colony. There was a sense of pleasure,however, in peering around, not knowing at what minute a fleet doe mightjump up before him.

  To his surprise, and also a little to his chagrin, the tempting placedid not appear to harbor any sort of game whatever. But then Tom wasenough of a sportsman to know that such often proves the case; thelikely spots turn out good for nothing; while, when least expected, luckoften springs upon the unwary.

  Only one thing caught his attention in making his way along, that seemedworth a second thought. Stooping down in the heart of the dense growth,Tom picked something up, which he proceeded to examine with increasinginterest.

  It seemed to be a piece of comb from the honey store of a wild colony ofbees, such as are found in nearly every section of the country south ofa certain belt, beyond which the winters are too severe for the busylittle insects.

  Now, Tom had at some time in the past been in the company of a man whohad once made a living, far away in New England, gathering wild honey,spruce gum, and many other products of the Maine pine woods. The subjecthad interested the boy exceedingly, and he had asked many questionsrelating to it, that brought him quite a store of information.

  Just the sight and smell of this old piece of comb aroused within him aneager desire to discover just where it came from. If only he could bringhome a pail of delicious honey, what would Felix say? Why, his mouthbegan to water at the very thought of such a delightful accession totheir larder. Think of dripping sweetness flowing over the fineflapjacks Felix liked to make, and in which he really excelled!

  That was too much for Tom. He just couldn't stand it any longer, butresolved that since game refused to spring up before his rifle, he wouldforget all about hunting; save that somewhere in this thicket growththere evidently lay a bee tree, fairly groaning with richness; and whichhe was resolved to find, if it lay in his power to do so.

  He looked up, but could see no sign near him indicating that bees had ahive in any tree; in fact there was none of a suitable size right there.

  Tom shrewdly guessed the truth. He knew that black bears have a sweettooth; and will go miles to rob a bee tree. The stings of thousands ofthe little insects do not appear to bother Bruin a particle; perhaps heis immune to the poison they inject; or else most of them fail to reachhis skin, on account of the thick hair.

  Apparently, then, some thief of a bear was periodically robbing thissecret storehouse of its sweets, and had dragged this comb away with himon a recent visit.

  The comb, while somewhat discolored, had not been drained of its nectarmore than a few days, Tom thought. That would seem to indicate that thehive could not be very far away. If he could only find it, with an axehe might soon fell the tree in which it was secreted, and then take tollof the preserves.

  Every tree around came under his observation, and was only allowed topass after he had surveyed its entire trunk, and become convinced thatit had no hollow part in which a colony of busy workers might find ahome for the winter's sleep.

  And now that he was upon the subject of bear, he remembered that only acouple of days back he had himself seen signs of such an animal in thewoods, and wondered how it came that a black, usually hibernating atthis time of year, chanced to be moving around.

  This explained it. Bruin had made a late discovery, and his appetite forsweet things would not allow him to shut himself up until "the last hornblew."

  And perhaps, if he could find the bee tree, he might also get track ofthe bear, since it would be difficult to divorce the animal from sodainty a morsel, once he had found how to get at the hive.

  So Tom kept up his search, all the time hoping to make a pleasingdiscovery that would make his chum's eye dance, and add a pleasingvariety to their meals.

  He had spent half an hour in this vain hunt when he came upon a treethat seemed to offer possibilities; for it had a big cavity, and therewas more or less of a chance that some of its larger limbs were alsohollow. It is this kind that appears to be the favorite lodgment of thebees after swarming from some other hive that is overcrowded; a placewhere they can grow indefinitely, and lay up an increasing store witheach successive summer.

  A ton of honey has sometimes been gathered from a single bee tree; muchof it too old and discolored to be of much good but showing that thelittle workers never know when they have enough for their winter use.

  Tom became so impressed with the possibilities of this particular treethat he determined to climb up its trunk and investigate at close range.

  Of course, in order to ascend, he was compelled to lay his rifle on theground, as he would surely need both hands to draw himself upward.Perhaps at the time Tom may have remembered the strange experience ofhis chum, Felix, while held unarmed in a tree, by the wounded buck; butif so, Tom did not dream of allowing such an idea to deter him in theleast. Who could imagine any trouble springing from such an apparentlyinnocent amusement as climbing a tree to see if any of its limbs beinghollow might shelter a swarm of bees, with their golden brown store ofhoney? And besides, a rifle is not often used to shoot such small game,Tom remembered with a chuckle.

  Once among the branches, he had little difficulty in climbing aloft; andwas soon going about his business of examining the various limbs thatseemed to promise a hope of containing the treasure house he sought.

  He must have passed the hole in the trunk while climbing up the otherside, for otherwise such keen eyes as Tom Tucker possessed would surelyhave noticed certain scratches calculated to arouse his suspicions.

  One by one the limbs were looked over, and dismissed from the list ofpossibilities, until there remained only a small opening in the maintrunk, about twenty feet above his head.

  Without much hope of finding what he sought there, Tom climbedlaboriously upward to this point, just about to give over the quest; hecould not discover any signs that would indicate the presence of aswarm; and yet, as he placed his ear to this last opening, it seemed tohim that he could catch a faint buzzing sound from within that excitednew hopes.

  He examined the trunk up and down, but there was certainly no chance offinding the anticipated hive further aloft; and if in the tree at all,it apparently must be down further.

  The cavity beside him seemed to extend some distance downward; indeed,Tom was now of the opinion that it must connect with the larger openinghe remembered having seen when on the ground, and which had slipped hisattention when climbing. On his way back he must certainly take a lookin there; meanwhile he would like to know positively t
hat the bees werenot snugly ensconced in the upper trunk near this minor gash; and as anidea flashed into his mind, without a second thought he set aboutcarrying it into practice.

  Taking a piece of oiled rag from the pocket of his khaki canvas huntingcoat, which he was wearing at the time over his sweater and vest, heignited it with a match, and immediately dropped this into the opening;holding back to see whether even a solitary bee made its appearance,since that would tell the story.

  And Tom immediately became aware of the fact that there was certainly_something_ going on inside that tree trunk. At first the boy foundhimself thinking that he stirred up the biggest bees' nest ever heardof; for from what at first seemed to be a simple buzzing, there grew arumbling that kept on increasing, until it was simply astounding; andTom hardly knew what to make of it all, as he hung there to the side ofthe tree trunk, looking downward.

  The next thing he saw was smoke puffing out of where he knew the bigopening lay.

  "Hello!" he exclaimed, with mingled astonishment and amusement; "I didmore than I expected, I reckon, and set the old buster afire inside.Say, she must have been as dry as tinder, to catch like that. Perhapsit's the fire making all that racket--no it ain't, either, for I neverheard a burning tree make a noise like that. Sounds like growls, too--byGeorge, it _is_ growls, and I just bet you I've struck the snuggery ofMr. Bear first pop!"

  The idea was so surprising that Tom just clung there, and stared withwide-open eyes at the opening below, from whence welled those strangesounds; together with various little wisps of smoke that seemed to begetting stronger as they ascended.

  By and by the boy sniffed at this smoke, and as he did so he gave ventto another exclamation as if to voice his wonder, while something like abroad grin decorated his face.

  "Burning hair, as sure as you live!" he exclaimed. "Bless me, if I don'tthink the old critter must be on fire; that oiled rag lit on his back,and took hold!"

  Even as Tom gave vent to this startling opinion something appeared atthe opening below; something that speedily resolved itself into asmouldering black bear, that looked both scared and angry as he backedout of his den, snapping at various parts of his fat body, where thefire had touched most severely.

  If Tom had been able to restrain his loud and scornful laughter, in allprobability Bruin would have scrambled down from the tree, and ambledoff; or else rolled in the snow to cool his scorched body; but the sightseemed so very comical that the boy burst into a shout.

  He was immediately sorry for doing so.

  The singed bear twisted his head when in the act of lowering himselfstern first, and caught sight of his human enemy above.

  Somehow the sight of the boy seemed to completely alter the animal'splans; and instead of showing fear, he now gave evidence of extremeanger, just as though he might be able to figure out some connectionbetween the presence of that biped in his tree, and the suffering he waseven then undergoing.

  He showed his teeth in a vicious growl.

  "Go on down, old man!" called out Tom, waving his hand; "the walking'sfine. Besides, there's nothing for you up here. I'm not hankering forcompany, I tell you. So just skip out, please--do you hear, you beggar?"and Tom ended with a shout; for, to his consternation, the singed bearhad commenced to ascend the tree again, evidently with the intention oftrying conclusions with this enemy who had hurt him so grievously.

  Tom did not exactly like the looks of things just about then.

  There, he was, above the ground some forty feet, with an enraged bearclimbing in his direction, and evidently bent on mischief. It was toogreat a distance to be covered in a jump, since the ground was frozenand hard, so that a broken ankle might be the result. To ascend furtherwould mean that he must soon be chased to the very pinnacle of the tree,with Bruin close after, bent on clutching him with his sharp claws, andteaching him a lesson in politeness.

  Whatever he expected to do must be started quickly, for the animal wasgetting closer all the time. If he only had a good long pole; or even astout club, Tom believed he might poke the brute so furiously that hewould conclude to give over his attempt to close with the boy who hadlaughed so heartlessly over his misfortunes, though Tom was doing so nolonger, it might be noticed.

  But he might just as well wish for his rifle, lying there so temptinglyon the ground; it would be impossible to twist off a branch largeenough, and reduce it to the proper consistency in time to meet thebear's attack.

  Tom, as the bear came close, began to move out on a limb, wonderingwhether the animal would really follow after him. That doubt wasspeedily removed, for Bruin never so much as hesitated, though he camewith extreme caution, feeling his way, step by step, suspicious lest hewere being led into a trap.

  It seemed to Tom, however, that if any one appeared to be in a trap,that individual must be himself. With each foot that he crept out onthat bending limb, he felt that his chances for escaping those cruelclaws in an encounter with their angry owner grew less and less.

  Suppose the limb should break under their combined weight, it would be aserious thing to go tumbling down fully forty feet, in company with thefat, hairy monster; possibly to be clasped in his embrace after landing.Of course, if he could only be sure of alighting on Bruin when thecollision came, it would not seem so bad; but that was only one chancein ten; and on the other hand the miserable beast might drop squarelyupon him, which would be completing the tragedy.

  One thing Tom noticed was, that the further out on the limb he crawledthe more it sagged, so that he was even now close to the outcroppingbranches below; and the daring thought flashed through his brain thatpossibly he might suddenly let go his hold above, and by a show ofdexterity, succeed in securing a new grip as he fell!

  That would be leaving Bruin in the lurch nicely; for not daring to trusthis cumbersome body to do likewise he would have to hedge back to thetrunk, an operation taking time; and then descend in the ordinary way.

  Meanwhile Tom could be slipping down the balance of the tree with thespeed, that, in his boyish vernacular, he called "greased lightning,"and when the bear arrived later on, he would find himself up against asnag in that always dependable rifle.

  There was really no other course left open to him, and hence Tom feltbound to take the chances, such as they were.

  He was naturally agile, and his muscles accustomed to hardy exercise; sothat after all, it was not such a tremendously difficult task, slippingdextrously down the outside of that limb, and clutching hold of the nextone as he reached it.

  Tom half expected to see the bear go plunging downward, as the limb,relieved of the boy weight, must have been violently agitated; butapparently the animal knew just how to crouch there, and hold on.

  A single look upward showed Tom this, and also that the bear was alreadycommencing to edge cautiously backward, moving one foot gingerly at atime, just as Tom had seen a domestic cat do when after a sparrow in atree.

  Undoubtedly that must have been the strangest way in which Tom Tuckerever came down a tree; just as the ascension of Felix had shattered allrecords. While his movements were certainly pretty rapid, he managed tocarry himself so dextrously that, save for a number of small scratches,mostly along his wrists that did not count for anything, he presentlyreached the ground, none the worse for his remarkable experience.

  By this time Bruin had succeeded in backing along the limb, and reachingthe body of the tree, down which he commenced to pass, with an eye tobusiness. Hence, Tom knew that he had no time to waste, if he meant tohold the advantage that his slide had given him.

  Three bounds took him over to where his rifle lay, and snatching thisweapon up, he was quickly back again at the base of the tree. After thatit was just a picnic--that is, for Tom; what the bear thought no one everbothered trying to find out.

  The boy even felt a little compassion for the poor beast that was sorudely disturbed in the very beginning of his long winter nap, by havinghis house take fire; and upon crawling hastily forth, had the doubleaggravation of finding himself
laughed at by a cruel two-legged foe; andwhen he sought to punish such liberties it would be to have a queerstick poked at his head, and hear a terrible bang that ended his earthlycareer.

  But to tell the truth it was bear steaks that animated Tom now; for herealized that as a piece of marketable fur that sadly singed hide ofBruin would not pay for the trouble of taking it off.

  He believed that the bear was both fat and rather young, and theseconsiderations outweighed any compunction he might feel, as the animalkept coming closer to him.

  Several times the bear stopped to look down at the human enemy waitingso confidently for him below; and it would seem as though some intuitionmust have warned Bruin that he could expect nothing less than troublefrom that source; but to descend seemed to be the only thing left him,since his late den was now burning in a way that promised the completedestruction of the tree in due time.

  And so the beast again started downward, growling ferociously; but nowmore in the expectation that such fierceness might frighten the hunteraway from his post, than because of a genuine desire to come intocontact with him.

  However, Tom did not mean to take any unnecessary chances; he had neverfought a "singed" bear, and hence could not say just how vindictive suchan animal might turn out to be. So when Bruin was just about down Tomthrust out his gun until the muzzle almost touched the beast's smallhead, close to his ear; when he pulled trigger, and there was one lesslive bear in that neck of the woods.

  Later on, Tom, following the trail of the marauding bear, did manage todiscover the bee tree, and upon felling it, secured a bucket full ofgood honey; though he afterwards declared that he had never before heardof such a thing being done in the winter season.

  Bruin had gotten at all he could easily reach, and had then taken up hisquarters in the near vicinity; possibly in the hope and expectation thatwhen spring came around, and the dormant bees awoke to new activity, hewould be on hand to start a fresh campaign, in the hope of another richfeast.

  He had not calculated upon the coming of Tom Tucker; and the discoveryof that empty comb which he must have tossed contemptuously aside afterdraining its sweet store; so that its finding started the hunter on thetrack that ended in Bruin's downfall.

  It was with considerable pleasure that Tom set about the task ofdenuding the honey thief of his singed pelt. He meant to simply keepthis as a reminder of the strange adventure that had waylaid him on hisreturn from the little marsh where the Northern muskrats abounded. Butthe meat was the main thing after all; and none of it must go to feedsome prowling bobcat or panther.

  With the assistance of his chum Tom managed to get every pound worthsaving to the cabin, and that which could not be immediately used wasfrozen in a secure spot, from which it could not be stolen. Whenevertheir stock became low, all that was necessary, was to go out with theaxe, and chop a few pounds off, as though it were fuel for the fire.

  That account also went down in the log of Felix; for it gave him evenmore amusement than his own story of the buck that had tossed him intothe tree; he often wished he had a picture of Tom in that tree, with thebear reaching out for him; and the boy finally sliding down the outsidebranches with desperate haste.

  When Tom brought in that pail of wild honey, and declared they couldreally get all they wanted during their stay in the mountains, Felixfairly danced with glee. It just seemed to fill a long-felt want; andhow delicious it did taste upon the next lot of flapjacks, which, ofcourse, had to follow at the succeeding meal.

  They ate so heartily, Tom declared that if this kept on, the larderwould be cleaned out before half the time they had set for their stay inthe camp were exhausted. But to all this kind of talk Felix turned adeaf ear; for when such a magnificent appetite had come to him, buildingup his energies splendidly, it just _had_ to be catered to, regardless,even though the two big Crow boys were hired to make the long trip tocivilization on snow-shoes, perhaps, and "tote" back a fresh supply ofstuff on a sledge.

  One can accomplish almost anything when the pocketbook is well lined,especially with where substantials in the woods are concerned; and thosehardy Indian lads would think little of such a trip through the snow ofthe valleys; indeed, it must seem something along the order of a picnicfor them, since doubtless they had more than once done the same thing,without the inducement of a fat reward, such as Felix would be sure topromise them.

  It seemed as though adventures were flocking their way thick and fast;and the boys could not help wondering what the nature of the next onewould be like, as they sat in their cozy dugout at night time, and tooktheir ease before a roaring fire that made things look so cheery.

  All this while Felix had not forgotten the two principal things he hadin mind when laying out this trip to the Rocky Mountain region.

  A grizzly was the height of his ambition, and unless he could manage toget such a prize to his credit, all alone and unaided, he would feelvery much disappointed indeed. And then there was that bighornbusiness--he had heard so much about these strange sheep of the rockyheights that he often expressed a wish to try and secure such a splendidtrophy. Could he see a pair of those curved horns decorating his den athome, the boy felt that it would please him more than words could tell.

  And Tom, understanding what all this eagerness meant to his comrade, wasmaking preparations looking to a start along those lines; he had his eyeout for signs of the monster that had passed near the cabin on the firstnight of their occupancy, and whose den he believed must be among therocky canyons of the mountains, not half a mile away from the edge ofthe valley where the dugout lay.