Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone

by Mayne Reid

think of no other man that Stormy and I had bothknown before--at least, none who was likely to have committed a murder.But my correspondent might still be mistaken; and the condemned criminalbe a stranger to both of us?

  When I had walked about a mile along the main road to Sonora I left it--knowing that I could make a shorter cut by a path, leading over theridge that separates the valleys of the Stanislaus and Tuolumne.

  I had got, as I supposed, about half-way to Sonora; and was passing neara chapperal thicket, when a large grizzly bear rushed out of the bushes,and advanced straight towards me.

  Fortunately a large live oak tree was growing near, with limbs thatextended horizontally. I had just time to climb up among the branches.A second more, and I should have been grasped by the claws of thegrizzly. Unlike his congener the brown bear, the _grizzly_ cannot climba tree, and knowing this I fancied myself safe.

  Taking a seat on one of the limbs of the live oak, I proceeded tocontemplate the interesting position in which I was placed. The bearhad a brace of cubs playing in the chapperal near by. I could hear themsniffing and growling; and soon after got sight of them, engaged intheir uncouth, bearish frolics. It would have been pleasant enough towatch these creatures; but the prospect of how I was to regain myliberty soon became the sole subject of my thoughts--by no means apleasant one.

  I saw that, the bear was not inclined to leave the tree, while herinteresting family was so near. That seemed certain. The chance of anyperson passing, near that lonely place, was one against a hundred. Thepath was very little used, and only by an occasional pedestrian likemyself.

  To ensure the safety of her offspring, the bear might keep me up thattree until her cubs had arrived at the age of discretion, and be able totake care of themselves. Under the circumstances, I could not subsistso long.

  Always having allowed myself to believe, that a civil tongue, a goodbowie-knife, and the sense to mind my own business, were a much betterprotection than fire-arms, I seldom carried a revolver--as most peoplein California, at that time, were in the habit of doing. I now foundneed of the weapon, when I had it not.

  I was not, however, wholly unprovided with what might console me in mydilemma: for I had some good cigars and a flask of brandy,--thathappened to have been put into my pocket the night before. To aid me incalculating the chances of regaining my liberty, I took a pull at theflask, and then lighted a cigar.

  Volume Two, Chapter II.

  A GRIZZLY ON FIRE.

  During all this time, the bear had been energetically trying to pulldown, or eat up, the tree; and I only felt secure, when I saw that shehad not the ability to do either.

  But the business upon which I was bound to Sonora now came before mymind. It seemed to have become greatly magnified in importance, so muchso, that I began to fancy, that all my hopes for the future depended onmy finding Stormy Jack before twelve o'clock. Time was rapidly passing,without my making any progress towards the place of appointment.

  "What shall I do?" was the thought that seemed to run like hot leadthrough my skull.

  The excited state I was in hindered the enjoyment I usually have insmoking a good cigar; and the fire of the one I had lit soon becameextinguished.

  Imbued with the belief that smoking tranquillises an agitated mind, andbrings it to a fitter state for contemplation, I relighted the cigar.

  I knew from the implacable disposition of the grizzly bear, that the oldshe that besieged me was not likely to leave the tree so long as I wasin it; and the length of my captivity would probably depend on which ofus could longest resist the demands of hunger.

  My cigars--unlike some that I have often been compelled to smoke--couldnot be used as _substitute for food_: since they were composed neitherof turnip tops nor cabbage leaves.

  The day was intensely hot; and I had grown thirsty--a sensation thatbrandy would not remove. The longer I kept my perch, the more myimpatience pained me, indeed, life seemed not worth possessing, unless Imet Stormy at the time he had appointed. I felt the terrible exigency;but could not think of a way to respond to it. There was everyprobability of the next day finding me no nearer Sonora, but much nearerdeath, than I was then. The agony of thirst--which the feverish anxietycaused by my forlorn condition each moment increased--would of itselfmake an end of me.

  The idea of descending from the tree, and fighting the bear with mybowie-knife, was too absurd to be entertained for a moment. To do sowould be to court instant death.

  I have already stated that at the time of which I write, California wasdisgraced by such spectacles as combats between a grizzly bear and abull.

  I had witnessed three such exhibitions; and the manner in which I hadseen one of the former knock down and lacerate a bull with a single blowof its paw, was enough to make me cautious about giving the old she anopportunity of exhibiting her prowess upon myself.

  The remembrance of such scenes was enough to have made me surrendermyself to positive despair. I had not, however, quite come to that.

  A scheme for regaining my liberty at length suggested itself; and Ibelieve it was through smoking the cigar that the happy idea occurred tome.

  To the branch on which I was sitting was attached a tuft of a singularparasitive plant. It was a species of "Spanish moss," or "old man'sbeard," so called, from the resemblance of its long white filamentaryleaves to the hairs of a venerable pair of whiskers.

  The plant itself had long since perished, as I could tell from itswithered appearance. Its long filaments hung from the limb, crisp anddry as curled horse-hair.

  Reaching towards it, I collected a quantity of the thread-like leaves,and placed them, so that I could conveniently lay hands upon them whenwanted.

  My next move was to take out the stopper of my brandy flask--which done,I turned the flask upside down, and spilled nearly the whole of itscontents upon the back of the bear. What was left I employed to give aslight moistening to the bunch of Spanish moss.

  I now drew forth my lucifers--when, to my chagrin, I saw that there wasbut one match left in the box!

  What if it should miss fire, or even if igniting, I should fail with itto light the dry leaves?

  I trembled as I dwelt upon the possibility of a failure. Perhaps mylife depended upon the striking of that one match? I felt the necessityof being careful. A slight shaking of the hand would frustrate mywell-contrived scheme.

  Cautiously did I draw the match over the steel filings on the box, toocautiously, for no crackling accompanied the friction.

  I tried again; but this time, to my horror, I saw the little dump ofphosphorus that should have blazed up, break from the end of the stick,and fall to the bottom of the tree!

  I came very near falling myself, for the bright hope that had illumed mymind was now extinguished; and the darkness of despondency once more setover my soul.

  Soon, however, a new idea came into my mind--restoring my hopes assuddenly as they had departed. There was fire in the stump of the cigarstill sticking between my lips.

  The match was yet in my hand; and I saw that there remained upon it aportion of the phosphoric compound.

  I applied its point to the coal of the cigar; and had the gratificationof beholding it blaze upwards.

  I now kindled the Spanish moss, which, saturated with the brandy, soonbecame a blaze; and this strange torch I at once dropped on the back ofthe bear.

  Just as I had expected, the brandy, with which I had wetted the shaggycoat of the bear, became instantly ignited into a whishing, splutteringflame, which seemed to envelope the whole body of the animal!

  But I was not allowed to have a long look at the conflagration I hadcreated: for the moment the bear felt the singeing effects of the blaze,she broke away from the bottom of the tree, and retreated over thenearest ridge, roaring as she went like a tropical hurricane!

  Never before had I beheld a living creature under such an elevatedinspiration of fear.

  Her cries were soon answered by another grizzly, not far away; and Iknew that no
time was to be squandered in making my escape from theplace.

  I quickly descended from the tree; and the distance I got over, in thesucceeding ten minutes, was probably greater than I had ever done beforein twice the time.

  Volume Two, Chapter III.

  LYNCH VERSUS LEARY.

  I reached Stormy's tent about ten o'clock; and found him waiting for me.I proposed proceeding at once towards the gaol where the condemned manwas kept. I was more impatient than my companion--impatient to seewhether I might identify the criminal.

  "Come on!" said I, "we can talk and walk at the same time."

  The old sailor followed me out of his tent, and then led the way withoutspeaking.

  "Storm along, Stormy," cried I, "Let me hear what you have to say."

  "It's not much," replied he; "I'm afraid I've been making a fool ofmyself, and you too. I saw the man yesterday, who's going to be hungto-day. I fancied that he was the same as brought you aboard the `Hope'in Dublin Bay, when you first went to sea--he that you told me was