Frank in the Woods

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER IX.

  Close Quarters with a Grizzly.

  "Wal," said Dick, as soon as Frank had finished his story, "that warabout the keerlessest trick I ever hearn tell on. Here, in the woods,it's jest the same as it is in a city; let a boy have his own way, an'he'll make an eend of himself in a tarnal hurry. Don't you know thatthat bar could have chawed you up in a minit?"

  "Yes," answered Frank, "I suppose she could; but I had to run the riskof that in order to get the cubs."

  "Yes, that's another of your boy tricks," continued Dick, knocking theashes from his pipe, "an' it 'minds me of some scrapes I had when Iwar a youngster. It war while my ole man war livin'. Him an' me wereonct huntin' somewhar nigh the head-waters o' the Colorado River. Iwar about seventeen year ole, an' a purty good boy I war for my age,too. It tuk a smart, lively young Injun to take my measure on theground, an' I used to think that what I didn't know about trappin',shootin', and fightin' grizzly bars, warn't wuth knowin'. I was allersgettin' into some scrape or another, an' sometimes I used to get pawedup purty badly, too; but as long as I could crawl round I war allright.

  "I 'member onct that I had been over to a little creek about two milefrom the camp, to 'tend to some traps I had sot for muskrats, an' as Iwar comin' home through the woods, I seed a young bar, jest about thesize of them you brought home. He come out of the bushes, an' lookedat me a minit, an' then jumped back agin. I thought he war a purtylittle feller, an' made up my mind that I would ketch him an' take himto camp with me. I had a kinder hankerin' arter pets, jest like you,Frank, an' I wanted to tame this young bar, an' I thought me an' himwould have some tall fights when he growed up; so I put arter him, an'finally ketched the little feller, an' tuk him in my arms, an' startedfor camp. He hollered an' fit like the mischief; but I hung on tohim, an' arter half an hour's walk reached home. My ole man warn'tthere; he had gone off to 'tend to his traps; but I didn't keer, for Iwar used to bein' alone in the woods. Arter feelin' in all my pockets,I found a long strip o' buckskin, an' I thought I would tie the littlefeller to a saplin' that stood close by the cabin; so I sot down onthe ground an' war tyin' the string fast to his neck--he hollerin' an'fightin' all the while--when, all to onct, I heerd a loud growlin' andcrashin' in the bushes behind me. I looked up, an' seed the ole bar acomin'. She had heered her baby squallin', an' was comin' arter him. Ijumped up an' let the young bar fall, as though he had been a livecoal. My gun war standin' agin a tree, close by, but I knowed Iwouldn't have time to reach it, so I turned an' begun to go up thesaplin'. You better believe I climbed _some_, an' I thought I wargettin' along mighty fast; but I warn't a minit too quick. I hadn'thardly got out of reach afore the bar made a grab at me, an' pulledoff one of my moccasins. I war fairly treed; an' there I had to stay,too, 'cause the ole bar kept a close watch on me; but the tree wartoo small for her to climb, so I knowed I war safe. 'Bout an hourafore dark I heered the ole man a comin', an' the bar left offwatchin' me, an' begun to get ready for him. So, I hollered to the oleman, an' he put a chunk o' lead into her. As soon as I see that shewar done for, I slid down the saplin' as fast as I could to ketch theyoung bar; but the ole man, who knowed in a minit what I had beendoin', give him a clip side the head with the butt of his rifle, thatknocked the daylights out of him; an' then, bars an' buffaler, didn'the scold me for bein' so keerless; but, law sakes, it didn't do a bito' good, for, in about three days arterward, I war in a wusser scrapenor that.

  "Arter 'tendin' to my traps, as usual, I started out through themountains, on a hunt. 'Bout noon I killed a big-horn, an' while I warcookin' my dinner, I happened to see, in a rocky place up the side o'the mountain, a small openin' 'bout large enough for a man to crawlinto, an' I knowed it war a sort of cave. I didn't stop to think anymore 'bout dinner jest then, but picked up my rifle an' started up themountain. I wanted to see what kind of a place the cave war. When Igot purty nigh to the openin' I seed a kind o' path runnin' up to it,an' I knowed the cave must be the home of some wild animal. This mademe prick up my ears, an' be a little more keerful. I didn't like theidee of havin' a varmint jump down on me afore I knowed it. But Ireached the mouth o' the cave without seein' any thing, and poked myhead in, keepin' my gun ready to crack away at the first live thing Ishould set eyes on; but the cave war so dark that I couldn't see intoit two foot; but I _heered_ something, an' I scrambled up intothe openin' an' listened. It war a faint moanin' kind of anoise--somethin' like the squall of a young kitten, an' I knowed in aminit what it war that made it; it war a young painter. Now, if I hadknowed any thing, I would have climbed down out o' that place as fastas my legs would let me. But, no; I tuk it into my head all to onctthat I must have them young painters. I wanted one of 'em to playwith; an' without stoppin' to think, I begun to crawl down into thecave, an' along a narrer, crooked passage that must a been twentyyards long. One little feller kept up his cryin', an' it kept growin'louder an' louder, an' I knowed that he warn't a great way off. Atlast I come to a place where the cave seemed to widen into quite alarge room, an' after a few minits' lookin'--or, I should say,feelin'--for the cave war as dark as a nigger's pocket--I found theyoung painters--three of 'em--in a nice bed of leaves made up in onecorner. I didn't mind the hollerin' they made when I tuk hold of 'em,but chucked 'em all into my cap, an' started back. I had tuk good keerto 'member my bearin's, an' I knowed I should have no trouble infindin' my way out; so I crawled along keerless like, as usual,chucklin' over my good luck, an' thinkin' what nice pets I would makeof the young painters, when all to onct I come within sight of themouth o' the cave. Bars and buffaler! I would have give all thebeaver-skins I ever expected to be wuth, if I had been safe out o'that cave. The ole painter was comin' in. She had smelt my tracks, an'I could see by the light that come in, in little streaks on each sideof her, that every hair on her body war stickin' toward her head. Shemeant mischief. Any greenhorn could a told that I war in somethin' ofa fix. I dropped the cubs, an' as I did so, they all set up a yell.The ole lady couldn't stand that, an' givin' a growl that made myblood run cold, she begun to get ready to spring at me. I used tothink I war tall timber at rifle shootin', but, although the painterwar not thirty feet from me, I war 'most afraid to risk the shot. ButI knowed I didn't have much time to waste in sich thoughts, an'drawin' up my shootin' iron, I blazed away, expectin' to have thepainter grab me the next minit. But when the smoke cleared away, I seethe old lady stretched out, stone dead. I have been in tight placessince then, in fights with varmints an' wild Injuns, an' many a time asingle chunk o' lead has saved my scalp; but that war the best shot Iever made. It war a thing that many a Rocky Mountain trapper wouldn'tkeer to undertake. I like to hunt now as well as I ever did, an'expect to be in a good many rough-an'-tumble fights with Injuns an'grizzly bars, but I'd rather be excused from crawlin' down into a darkhole like that agin. But arter I had got out o' the cave, I didn'tstop to think o' the danger I had been in; the cubs war mine, an'that's all I keered for."

  Here the trapper paused, and thrusting his hand into the pocket of hishunting-shirt, he drew forth a clasp-knife and a plug of tobacco, andafter cutting off a generous "chaw," as he called it, and stowing itaway in his cheek, he continued:

  "But 'bout the nighest I ever come to bein' rubbed out, war while Iwar trappin' on the Missouri River, with my chum, Bill Lawson--thepoor fellow is gone now"--and here the trapper lowered his voicealmost to a whisper, in reverence to the memory of his departedcompanion, and hastily drew his hand across his eyes--"an' I am leftalone. It'll be lonesome on the prairy when I get back there, an' whenI visit the places where me an' him used to camp an' trap together, Ishall miss the ole man. He war one of the best trappers I ever comeacrost. He war generally very good natered an' jolly; but he hadstrange ways with him sometimes, an' when he got one of his gloomyfits on him, there would be days when--although we ate at the samefire, an' p'rhaps slept under the same blanket--he wouldn't speak tome. I knowed something war troublin' him, an' it war a sorry sight forme to see that strong man weepin' like a child; but I trapped with
himfor better nor five years afore he told me his story. There would beweeks at a time when he would seem to forget his troubles, an' thenit done me good to lay beside our camp-fire an' listen to his stories.He war a'most as big agin as I am, an' strong as a hoss. He could pullup a saplin' that two common men couldn't budge; and he war as braveas he war strong--as brave as a man could be; he didn't seem to keerfor any thing, for I never see him frightened in my life, an' I warwith him for better nor twenty years. An' he war a great Injunfighter, too. It tuk a mighty lively red-skin, an' one that could pickup his feet in a tarnal hurry, to get away when ole Bill onct set eyeson his trail; for the way he could run war a caution to owls, an' ifthere war one of them varmints in the country for fifty miles round,ole Bill allers knowed it. He used to tell me that he could smell anInjun further than he could see him; an' I believe he could.

  "But what I started to tell you 'bout war a little scrape we onct hadwith a grizzly. As I said, we war trappin' on the Missouri River,right among the mountains. One mornin', arter a good breakfast onbuffaler hump, I war gettin' ready to start out to 'tend to my traps,when ole Bill said:

  "'Dick, I see some grizzly bar tracks down in the gully last night.Let's go an' hunt up the varmint. I would have follered him up lastnight, only it war too dark.'

  "In course I agreed, an' we ketched our hosses, which we had picketedclose by the cabin, an' started out--ole Bill leadin' the way.

  "Huntin' a grizzly is fine sport sometimes; but if a feller is any wayskeery, he had better not take a hand in it. Even the Injuns don'tkeer to meddle with the varmint, unless a dozen or two of 'em, wellmounted an' armed, can ketch him out in clar open ground; an' eventhen they have to handle themselves round purty lively, for if the baronct gets his claws on a hoss he has to go under. You couldn't hire ared-skin to go into the mountains alone an' hunt up a grizzly. Thevarmint allers lives in the thickest part of the woods; an' if youdon't plug him through the brain at the first shot, or if your hossgets tangled in the bushes, you're in a mighty onpleasant fix thefirst thing you know. But me an' Bill had hunted grizzlies plenty o'times, an' allers come out o' the fight right side up, an' we war usedto the sport.

  "Wal, as I was sayin', we started out toward the place where Bill hadseed the trail o' the bar, an', arter four hours' hard ridin' overrocks an' fallen logs an' thick bushes, we come to the gully. It war'bout a hundred feet deep an' a quarter of a mile broad, an' the bankson both sides war as steep as the roof o' this cabin, an' covered withbushes so thick that a hoss couldn't hardly work a way through 'em. Itwar a fine place for a bar, an' many a trapper wouldn't have liked theidea o' goin' down in there to hunt one up, an' I couldn't helpsayin':

  "'Ugly place, ain't it?'

  "'Yes,' answered ole Bill. 'But look over there;' an' he pinted acrostthe gully to a sort o' clar spot, where there warn't no bushes, an'the timber didn't grow very thick. 'If the bar gets arter us,' he wenton to say, 'we must run for that ar place; an' if we onct get him upthere, he's ourn, sure.'

  "Arter stoppin' a few minits to give our hosses a chance to rest, wetook a look at our rifles, to see that they war all right, an' thenbegun to work our way down into the gully. It must have tuk us an hourto reach the bottom, for the brake war higher than our hosses' heads,an' it war hard work to get through it. We had sent out the dogs--wehad two of the best bar dogs I ever happened to see--when we firststarted down, and jest as we reached the bottom of the gully, theygive notice, by their howlin', that they had found the grizzly'strail. We rid up to the place as fast as we could, an' ole Bill jumpedoff his hoss an' examined the tracks. They war fresh. The bar had jestpassed along, an' we knowed that he warn't far off.

  "'Hunt 'em up, dogs! hunt 'em up! Off with you!' shouted ole Bill; an'he jumped on to his hoss agin, and the dogs, understandin' what hemeant, war out o' sight in no time. We follered them as fast as wecould, an', purty quick, we heered a great crashin' in the brake, an'the dogs broke out into a reg'lar yelpin'. We knowed that they hadstarted the bar, an' war arter him. In a few minits we come up with'em, and see the bar settin' on his haunches. The dogs war jumpin'round him, now an' then takin' a grab at his hams, an' they kept thevarmint spinnin' round as though he war sot on a pivot. Ole Bill drewhis rifle up to his shoulder, an' sent an ounce-ball into the bar'shide, which brought him to the ground; but he war on his pins agin inless than no time, an', leaving the dogs, he took arter ole Bill, whomade straight acrost the gully toward the clar spot he had spoken of.The dogs follered close at the bar's heels, onct in awhile makin' agrab at his back settlements, which seemed to bother him a good deal;but he didn't stop to fight 'em, cause he thought the ole trapper warbigger game. The bushes an' trees war so thick that for some time Icouldn't get a chance to put in a shot. I didn't want to fire till Iwar sartin of killin' the bar, 'cause it war only throwin' away powderwithout doin' no good. So I cheered on the dogs, hopin' that theywould bring the bar to a stand-still; an' I warn't mistakened, forthey begun to pitch in so rough, that the varmint had to stop to keep'em off. This war what I war waitin' for, an' I sent another chunk o'cold lead atween his ribs. But he didn't seem to mind it at all; an',arter beating off the dogs, he started agin for the trapper.

  "Ole Bill had made mighty good use of his time, an' the way he stuckhis heels into his hoss' sides war a thing to look at. He tried toload up his rifle, but the bushes war so thick that he had to layclose along his hoss, to keep from bein' swept off by them.

  "I drawed up long enough to ram home a ball, an' then started on agin,an' when I come up with Bill, I found that he had got into a reg'larlaurel brake. The bushes war thicker than ever, an' as tough as greenhickory, an' Bill's hoss couldn't hardly make no headway at all. Butthey didn't seem to bother the varmint any, for he tumbled along asthough the bushes hadn't been more'n straws; an' he war gainin' onBill.

  "It war a fine sight to see the way the ole feller carried himselfthen. He held his knife in one hand, an' his clubbed rifle in theother, keepin' his eyes on the bar all the while, an' leavin' his hossto pick out his own way. He didn't look the least bit skeery, but Iknowed he war kalkerlatin' how many clips he could get at the barafore the varmint could grab him. The dogs war bitin' at the bar'slegs all the while, an' purty soon he had to stop agin to fight 'emoff. He raised on his haunches, an' struck at the hounds, which war asspry as cats, an' had been in barfights often enough to know how tokeep out of his reach.

  "'Now's your time, Dick,' said ole Bill. 'Shoot close! My hoss arpurty nigh tuckered.'

  "I war all ready, an' ridin' up purty close, so as to get in a goodshot, I drawed a bead on him, an' fired, expectin' to bring him, sure.But a bush atween me an' him glanced the ball, so that I only made anugly wound in his shoulder. He give an angry growl, an', beatin' offthe dogs, he dropped on all-fours, an' made arter me.

  "'Now,' thinks I, 'Dick Lewis, you're in a blamed ugly scrape;' and soI war. The bar warn't more'n twenty feet from me; and afore my hosshad made three jumps, the bar made a claw at him, an' pulled out halfhis tail. The animal was doin' his best, but I see that it warn'thealthy to stay on his back, an', as we passed under a tree, I grabbedhold of a limb jest above my head, an' swung myself clar off thesaddle, jest in time to see the varmint put both paws on my hoss, an'pull him to the ground. But that war his last move, for ole Bill senta bullet through his brain that throwed him dead in his tracks.

  "I come down out of my tree, feelin' about as mean as any feller youever see, for a man might as well be on the prairy without his headas without his hoss, an' mine war one of the best that ever wore asaddle. But the bar had done the work for him, an' no amount ofgrievin' could fetch me another; so I choked down my feelin's, an'begun to help ole Bill to take off the grizzly's hide. But there warplenty of Injuns about, an' it warn't long afore I had another hoss;an' 'bout a year arter that I ketched one for which many a trapperwould have give all the beaver-skins he ever had. But that's anotherstory."