“Yes.”
“We can’t promise that,” went on Tom.
“You don’t want much,” was Sam’s comment.
“Isn’t it worth something to be saved from Baxter’s clutches? I overheard him tell the guide what troubles he had had with you in the past, and how you had been the means of sending his father to prison, and all that. Why, he would put you out of the way forever, if he could.”
“And will you stand by, Jasper Grinder, and see that done?” asked Tom.
“No! no! But—but—he is his own master. Promise what I wish, and I will help you.”
“We can’t promise you half the treasure,” said Tom flatly. “But if you will really help us, we’ll promise that you shall lose nothing by the transaction.”
At this instant Dan Baxter leaped to his feet and ran for his gun, while Bill Harney and Lemuel Husty did the same.
“Come out here, Grinder!” shouted the bully. “Somebody or some wild animal is around!”
CHAPTER XXIII
THE BLACK BEAR
“Somebody is coming!” ejaculated Sam. “I hope it is Dick, with Mr. Barrow!”
“So do I,” returned Tom.
Without saying a word more, Jasper Grinder ran from the inner cave and joined Baxter and the guide. His face was pale, and he was evidently much disturbed.
Soon Baxter and his party were outside, and the Rover boys heard them moving up and down the gully. Several minutes passed, and then came a gunshot, followed by another.
“I hope they are not firing on Dick or Mr. Barrow,” said Sam, with something of a shudder.
“I guess not,” returned his brother. “If they were, we’d probably hear shots in return.”
An hour went by, and then Dan Baxter and the others came back, the guide carrying several rabbits and a large fox. The rabbits were skinned and kept for eating, and the fox was skinned and the carcass thrown away.
Tom and Sam had expected Jasper Grinder to return to them, but if the former teacher desired to do this, he was prevented by Dan Baxter, who kept his companions close by him, around the fire.
Slowly the time went by until darkness was upon them. The fire was kept up, but Baxter screened it as much as possible, so that the glare might not penetrate to the forest beyond the gully and prove a beacon to guide Dick and John Barrow to the spot.
The boys were tired out, and soon Sam sank to sleep, with his hands still tied to the tree roots. Tom tried to keep awake, but half an hour later he, too, was in dreamland.
When the Rovers awoke it was not yet morning. All was dark around them, for the fire had burnt low. Sam roused up first, with a severe pain in his wrists and ankles, where his bonds were cutting him.
“Oh, my wrists!” he groaned, and his voice caused Tom to start.
“Is that you, Sam?”
“Yes. My wrists are almost cut in two!”
“The same here. I’ve slept like a rock, too.”
“Is it morning yet?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“What’s going on in there?” came from Dan Baxter, as he leaped to his feet and caught up a gun.
“We are suffering from cuts of the ropes,” said Tom. “It was an outrage to compel us to sleep in this fashion, tied up like mummies!”
“Oh, shut up!” growled Baxter, and then began to poke the fire. Soon it was blazing as readily as before, and then the light found its way into the inner cave, so that Sam and Tom could see each other once more.
Breakfast for the two prisoners was a slim affair of crackers, rabbits’ bones, and water. Tom asked for coffee, but Baxter would not give it to them.
“You’ll get no luxuries from me,” growled the bully. “Be thankful that you aren’t being starved.”
While they were eating, Baxter and his companions held a low, but animated, conversation. “We’ll try it, anyway,” Tom heard Baxter say, and that was all the Rovers heard. As soon as the meal was finished the party took up some of their traps and their firearms.
“Now, then, we are going out for a while,” said Dan Baxter, coming up to the prisoners. “Take my advice and don’t try to escape in the meantime. If you do, and we catch you, it will go hard with you; let me tell you that!”
“Are you going to leave us tied up?” questioned Tom dubiously.
“Certainly.”
“Some wild animal may come in here and chew us up.”
“We’ll leave the fire burning—that will keep ‘em away,” returned the bully.
He would say no more, and in a few minutes he and his companions were gone and the Rover boys were left to themselves.
“Now what?” asked Sam, after all had been silent for at least ten minutes.
“Don’t ask me,” replied Tom disconsolately. “We’re in a pickle, and no mistake. Are your hands as tight as ever?”
“Yes, and my wrists hurt so I feel like screaming with pain.”
“Baxter is a brute, if ever there was one. However, I think I can get my left hand free,” went on Tom suddenly.
“Good, Tom! Do so by all means.”
Tom worked away with vigor. The pain was intense, but he bore it manfully. At last his hand was free.
“Hurrah! so far so good!” he cried lowly. “Now for the other hand.”
But this was not so easy, for the knots were hard ones and broke his finger nails dread-fully.
“If only I could get at them with my teeth,” he observed, “I’d soon chew them apart.”
But he could not bend around, and so had to content himself with working away as before. Soon his fingers grew numb and he had to desist.
“Too bad, but I can’t make it!” he groaned.
“Wait a while and give your fingers a rest,” returned Sam.
He had begun work on his own fetters, but try his best could make no material progress. The ropes had cut through the skin in two places and from these spots the blood was flowing freely.
Two hours went by, and to the boys it seemed an age. Tom had tried his best to free himself, and now the cords were gradually loosening up.
“I’ve got it at last!” he cried presently. “Just wait.” And a little later the bonds dropped to the ground. But the work had caused his finger tips to bleed.
With his hands free, Tom set to work free his feet, and this was not so difficult, although it also took time. Both boys were now hungry once more, and reckoned that it was well past the noon hour.
“I’ll set you free, and then we’ll look around for something to eat,” said Tom.
“Hadn’t we better get out as soon as we can?” asked his brother. “Remember, they may come back at any moment, and we are no match for them.”
“It will take but a minute to pick up something, if it’s around, Sam. Besides, we have got to have something in our stomachs before we set off to hunt up Dick and Mr. Barrow.”
As soon as Sam was freed they ran to the outer cave. Here, on some tree-roots overhead, hung a number of traps, including a knapsack containing crackers and cheese, and close by it was a portion of rabbit, left over from the morning repast.
“Just what we want!” cried Tom. “Now, if we only had a gun——”
He broke off short, as a crashing outside greeted their ears. The noise continued several seconds, then ceased abruptly.
“What do you suppose that was?” questioned Sam. “It can’t be our enemies returning.”
“No, I think it was some wild animal—perhaps a wildcat.”
Both looked around for some weapon with which to defend themselves, and Sam caught sight of a double-barreled shotgun standing in a corner of the cave. He ran for this, and as he did so the crashing outside was continued.
“I see something under the brushwood!” whispered Tom, peeping out. “Something big and black.”
“It’
s a bear!” cried Sam, a minute later. “A black bear! And he is coming this way!”
Both boys were astonished and bewildered, for they had not been looking for such a big beast as this. Sam clutched the shotgun tightly, while Tom ran to the fire and picked up the biggest brand he could hold.
The bear advanced to the center of the gully and looked up and down suspiciously. Then he sniffed the air.
“He smells the carcass of the fox that lies outside,” whispered Tom.
“Well, he must smell us, too, Tom. It’s a wonder he doesn’t run. Mr. Barrow said bears up here were generally shy.”
“I reckon he is pretty hungry. Here he comes for the fox meat now.”
Tom was right. The bear was advancing with great care, sniffing the snow-covered ground at every step. Once or twice he raised his head, as if preparing to run at the first sign of alarm.
“I’d like to bring him down!” whispered Sam.
“You can’t do it with the shotgun, Sam. Be quiet! We can be thankful if he takes the fox meat and leaves us alone.”
At last the bear reached the carcass. The two boys expected he would snatch it up instantly and run away, but they were mistaken. The bear sniffed it from end to end, and walked all around it.
“He’s afraid of a trap, or something like that,” whispered Tom. “They are pretty cute.”
At last the bear seemed satisfied, and he took the carcass up in his mouth and started to walk off with it. But, instead of turning up or down the gully, he came closer to the cave!
“My gracious, he’s coming this way!” cried Sam. “Look out, Tom!”
His voice was so loud that the black bear heard it plainly. The beast immediately dropped the fox meat and stood up on his hind legs. Then he gave a roar of disappointment; thinking, probably, that the boys had set a bait to catch him.
“He don’t like the situation,” began Tom, when he gave a yell and clutched his brother by the arm. And small wonder, for with rapid strides the black bear was making for them, as though to chew them both up!
CHAPTER XXIV
TOGETHER AGAIN
It must be confessed that both Tom and Sam were much alarmed by the forward move of the black bear. Up to this instant they had trusted the beast would depart with the fox’s carcass, without discovering them. Now it looked as if they were in for a hot fight, and that without delay.
“Get behind the fire!” cried Tom, as soon as he could collect his thoughts.
Sam had the shotgun pointed, and as the bear advanced he pulled the trigger. The charge of shot entered the bear’s left shoulder, making a number of painful, but not dangerous, wounds. At once the beast let out a snort of commingled pain and rage.
“You’ve done it now,” came from Tom, and whirled his firebrand, to make it blaze up. “Take a stick, quick!”
Instead of doing this, however, Sam fired a second time, this time hitting the bear in the left hind leg. The beast dropped on all fours and came to a halt while yet twenty yards from them.
By this time Tom had another firebrand, and this he compelled his brother to take, the shotgun being now empty. There was no time to reload the piece, and indeed, neither of the boys knew where to look for ammunition.
More enraged than ever, the bear now advanced again, until only the fire was between him and his intended victims. He had now forgotten about the fox meat, and thought only of getting at the human being who had injured him. He arose once more and let out a loud roar, while his small eyes gleamed maliciously. Had the fire not been in the way he would have rushed upon Sam without further hesitation.
The pulling out of the two large firebrands was causing the fire to burn low, something which was in the bear’s favor. The boys almost expected to see the beast leap over the spot, but bruin knew better than to attempt this. He began to circle around the flames, and as he did this, the boys did likewise.
“Shall we run?” panted Sam. He was so agitated he could scarcely speak.
“No—stick to the fire,” returned Tom. “Bears hate that. Look out!”
The bear had now started to come around the other way. At once the boys shifted again, until they occupied the position where they had stood when the beast was first discovered. Then the bear dropped down once more, and eyed them in a meditative way.
“He is making up his mind about the next move,” said Tom. “I’ll try him with something new.” And at the risk of burning his hand, he picked up some small brushwood which was blazing fiercely and threw it at their enemy.
The effect was as surprising as it was gratifying. The burning brands struck the beast fairly on the nose, causing him to leap back in terror. Then he uttered a grunt of dissatisfaction, turned, and sped, with clumsy swiftness, up the gully and into the forest beyond.
“He is retreating!” cried Sam joyfully.
“Wait—don’t be too sure,” returned Tom, and, firebrands still in hand, they watched until the bear was out of sight and they could hear nothing more of him.
“My, but aint I glad he’s gone!” said the youngest Rover, with a sigh of relief.
“So am I glad, Sam. I was almost afraid both of us were doomed to be chewed up.”
“What shall we do next?”
“I guess we had better get out—as soon as you’ve reloaded the gun. Wonder where the ammunition is?”
Both instituted a search, and soon a box was brought to light, containing not only ammunition, but also a big hunting knife.
“I’ll appropriate the knife,” said Tom. “It’s not as good as a gun or pistol, but it is better than nothing.”
Thus armed they set forth without further delay, fearful that their enemies might return at any moment to recapture them. As the bear had gone up the gully they went down, and they did not come to a halt until they had placed at least quarter of a mile between themselves and the caves. For some distance they kept on a series of bare rocks, thus leaving no trail behind.
“I reckon we are clear of them for the time being,” observed Tom, as he came to a halt. “And that being so, the next question is Where are Dick and Mr. Barrow?”
“The best we can do is to try to find Perch River, to my way of thinking,” came from Sam. “If we can find that and we stick to it, we’ll be sure to land at Bear Pond, sooner or later.”
“It seems to me Bear Pond ought to be close at hand,” said Tom. “We’ve seen the bear anyway, if not the pond.” And at this both Sam and he gave a short laugh.
An hour later found them tramping along the edge of a cliff overlooking a broad valley, in the center of which was a winding stream almost hidden by the woods on either side.
“Now, if we were only sure that was Perch River, we’d be all right,” said Sam. “But unfortunately all rivers look pretty much alike up here.”
“We might as well go down to it, anyway,” answered his brother. “It’s pretty cold up here.”
Finding a break in the cliff they descended, and started through the woods for the watercourse. It was indeed cold, and only their brisk walking kept them warm. A stiff wind was rising, and overhead the branches swayed mournfully.
When they reached the river they came to another halt, not knowing which was up and which was down.
“Guess we had better chop a hole in the ice and see how the water is flowing,” suggested Sam.
“Let us walk in this direction,” said Tom. “I think this is right, and, anyway, we may soon come to an air-hole, which will save us the trouble of cutting an opening.”
As they advanced they had kept a sharp lookout for the Baxter crowd, but so far none of their enemies had put in an appearance.
“Hurrah!” suddenly shouted Tom. “Here’s a signal of some sort!”
He pointed ahead, to where Dick and John Barrow had planted their first signal pole. Both made a rush forward, and soon had the cooked meat which had been tied
in a cloth and the note pinned on the outside.
“A letter from Dick,” said Tom, and read it aloud. “We are on the right track, Sam, and if we only continue to steer clear of Dan Baxter and his gang we’ll be safe.”
“Dick asks us to fire two shots, a minute apart, as a signal,” came from Sam. “I’ll do it at once.” And without delay he discharged the shotgun, waited sixty seconds, and then discharged it again.
Both listened intently, and from a great distance came back two other shots, also a minute apart.
“They heard the signal!” ejaculated Sam joyfully. “It came from up the river, didn’t it?”
“Yes; come on!”
Without stopping to eat the food which had been left for them, the boys hurried forward just as rapidly as their now tired legs would carry them.
They had brought their skates along and these were put on, after which progress was easier. It was now growing dark, and they began to wonder if they would be able to rejoin Dick and Mr. Barrow before nightfall.
“I hope we meet them,” said Sam. “I’ve no fancy for remaining in this open, alone.”
“Try another two shots,” suggested Tom, after an hour had gone by, and Sam did so. Immediately came answering reports, directly to their left.
“Hullo!” yelled Tom, at the top of his lungs, and Sam at once took up the cry.
“Hullo!” came back faintly. “Tom! Sam! Is that you?”
“Yes. We are on the river!”
“All right!”
The yelling now stopped, and Tom and Sam came to a halt and sat down on a flat rock to wait. Ten minutes passed, when they saw Dick rush into a clearing, followed by John Barrow. As soon as the eldest Rover saw them he waved his hand enthusiastically.
“Where in the world have you been?” came from Dick, as soon as he reached them, and saw that neither was injured. “We’ve been looking high and low for you.”
“We’ve been prisoners of the enemy,” answered Tom. “By the way, have you seen anything of Dan Baxter and his party?”
“No. Do you mean to say Baxter made you prisoners?”
“He and his crowd did.”
“How many are there with him?”
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