CHAPTER XV
FENN FALLS IN
"Shoot again, Bart!" cried Ned. "You missed him!"
Bart had pumped another cartridge into place, but before he could pullthe trigger the bear staggered a few paces toward him, and then fell ina convulsive heap. There was no need to fire again.
"He's dead!" cried Bart, exultantly, as he leaped forward. "My firstbear, though it did take two shots to settle him." But as he saw a fewminutes later, when he examined his prize, the first bullet would havedone the work, had he waited long enough, for it was in a vital spot.
"Now to get him to camp," proposed Ned, when he and his chum hadsufficiently admired the dead bear. "We'll have enough fresh meat for aweek."
"Yes," assented Bart. "Let's see how we're going to get him back." Heraised the fore end of the bear, by his paws, and grunted.
"What's the matter--heavy?" asked Ned.
"Try it and see," advised Bart. Ned did so, and grunted in his turn.The truth of the matter was that the bear, though not of full size, wasfat and plump, and of greater weight than the boys expected. Then, too,the weight was "dead," which made it all the more awkward to carry. Bartand Ned tried again, by turns, and both together, but the bear was toomuch for them.
"We'll have to get Fenn and Frank to help us," said Bart and he firedhis rifle three times, in quick succession, and then, after a pause,twice, more slowly--the prearranged call for assistance. Fenn and Frankcame running up a little later, fearing that some accident had happened,and they were much relieved when they found that their help was wantedin transporting the bear.
At Fenn's suggestion a long pole was cut, the bear's paws were tiedtogether and the pole thrust through them, and then, with two lads oneither end of the shaft, and Bruin swinging between, the journey back tocamp was safely made.
Bart insisted on skinning his prize, saying he was going to make a rugof the hide, and the best portions of the meat were cut off for futureuse. As it was desired to allow the flesh to cool a bit before using it,the campers prepared a meal of the food they had in stock, reserving thebear steaks for supper.
The rest of the day was spent around camp, several improvements beingmade, with a view of rendering life more comfortable during their stay.The bear steak, broiled with pieces of bacon stuck on it, was voted mostdelicious, and Fenn ate so much that he said it made him sleepy.
It grew much colder in the night, and before morning there was a demandfor more blankets on the part of Frank and Ned. As there were no more,Bart volunteered to get up and replenish the fire in the stove, for ithad died down.
As he was putting on more wood he suddenly paused, and seemed to belistening. Then he quietly went to the tent flap and peered out into thedarkness, illuminated by a lantern hanging from the ridge pole.
"What's the matter?" asked Ned. "Did you see another bear, Bart?"
"I thought I heard some one walking around," was the answer. "It'ssnowing again. I don't see any one."
He went back to bed, every one sleeping more in comfort now that thetent was warmer. In the morning, Bart was the first one up, and heopened the tent flap. As he looked out, noting that the sun was shining,though the weather was cold, the lad uttered a cry of astonishment.
"What's the matter?" asked Fenn, pausing in his dressing operations.
"Some one _was_ sneaking around last night!" declared Bart. "See thefootprints!"
The campers rushed from the tent in various stages of negligee, andstared at a track of human footprints, clearly visible in the new-fallensnow.
"Whoever it was he came close to our tent, and was evidently going tolook in, when I must have frightened him off by getting up to put woodon the fire," said Bart.
"Who was it?" asked Ned.
"I'm sure I don't know," responded Bart, "only it was some one whoevidently wanted to get away unobserved. Look, you can trace where hecame out of the woods, approached our tent very cautiously, and then,when I frightened him, he took it on the run." This was easy to confirmby the spaces between the footprints, for when the midnight visitor hadapproached slowly and stealthily the marks were comparatively closetogether, but where he had run they were far apart.
"Let's get dressed, and have a look around," said Fenn. But though theysearched for some time they could not find the intruder, even if hisfootsteps were plainly visible, leading off into the forest.
"We'll get breakfast and trace him up," suggested Frank. "Might as welldo that as anything else."
"Let's look and see if he's taken anything," suggested Fenn.
"No need to do that, Stumpy," was Bart's opinion. "You can tell by histracks that he wasn't near enough to our camp to have stolen anything.Even the bear meat is safe," and he looked to where it was suspended ona tree limb, by means of a long rope, a precaution taken to keep it outof the way of prowling animals.
With their guns in readiness for any game, the four chums set out afterbreakfast on the trail of the unknown, midnight visitor. The marks wereeasy to follow, for very little snow had fallen after Bart hadreplenished the wood in the stove.
"Say, do you notice which way he's heading?" asked Fenn, excitedly, whenthey had gone on about a mile.
"Not particularly," said Frank. "Why?"
"He's gone to the mud volcano--that's where he's gone, fellows!"declared the stout youth. "I wonder what he wants there? Maybe he'safter mud turtles. Maybe he's the same man who wrote to me."
"He might be almost anybody, Stumpy," was Ned's opinion. "We can't telluntil we see him. Get a move on."
The footsteps were becoming fainter now, for the wind had drifted thesnow across them in a number of places, but they were sufficientlyvisible to indicate that the man had kept on in the direction of theboiling spring.
Just before the boys reached that phenomenon, the marks vanishedaltogether, coming to an abrupt stop in the snow, but it was evidentthat this was due to the wind covering the tracks with white crystalsfrom the drifts, and not because the man had mysteriously vanished.
"Well, we may as well go on to the spring," spoke Fenn. "Maybe we'llfind him there."
But the vicinity of the mud volcano was deserted, though numerous mudturtles were crawling about over the warm ground, which was devoid ofsnow.
"I'm going closer and have a look," decided Fenn, as he started awayfrom his chums.
"Better be careful, Stumpy," warned Bart. "It doesn't look as if therehad been an eruption lately, and you may catch it all of a sudden."
"Oh, I'll chance it," said the heavy-weight lad.
He walked close to the edge of the spring, which was motionless save forthe water that ran from it. Fenn was looking for footprints in the softground, but he and his chums had made so many on their own account, ontheir previous visits to the place, and, as they were still visible (forthe ground had not frozen), the amateur detective was at a loss.
"There doesn't seem to be anything here," announced Fenn, as he turnedto come away. Hardly had he spoken than he was seen to jump back. Thatis, he tried to do so, but he was too late. An instant later he wasobserved to throw up his hands and slowly sink into the marshy ground onthe edge of the warm spring.
"Help! Help!" cried poor Fenn, as he felt himself going down. "Help,fellows!"
Bart Keene's Hunting Days; or, The Darewell Chums in a Winter Camp Page 15