Double Challenge Part 23

"Took him before Justice McAfee. Mac fined him fifty dollars and a positive revocation of his license if he violates any more."

"But--"

"But what?"

"There's a twenty-five dollar fine for every illegal grouse. As long as you were taking him in, you should have had him fined a hundred and seventy-five dollars."

"Not him," Loring Blade declared. "You can't hurt him too much by hitting him in the pocketbook. His hunting privileges are what he holds dear."

It was, Ted decided after the warden had left, a smart way to do things.

The penalty for breaking game laws should be harsh, but fining Arthur Beamish a hundred and seventy-five dollars would bother him less than a ten-dollar fine might inconvenience a Stacey or a Crawford. However, Beamish's hunting privileges really meant something to him.

At any rate, the warden's method worked. Nels, who lost none of his admiration for the grouse hunters, gave Ted a complete report at intervals. n.o.body in the camp took more than the limit after Beamish was fined--and there was still another angle. Ted had always known that he and his father were in the minority--sometimes it seemed that n.o.body except he and Al cared what happened to the Mahela. But now the boy was a.s.sured that others worked for its best interests, too.

The grouse hunters had gone home and for a whole week there would be n.o.body in the camp. There was nothing to worry about in the immediate future. Al, as his last note indicated, was doing all right. The Beamish party, who'd really liked Nels, had expressed their satisfaction in more lavish tips and for the first time in three years, Nels' family could get by for a while, even if he did not work. However, he could certainly work all through deer season. The Andersons might face a bleak New Year, but they would have a happy Christmas.

Ted had decided to seize the week's interlude as a fine time to go over the camp from top to bottom, but there was little to do. Nels would never write a learned dissertation about Shakespeare, or come up with a startling new aspect of the nuclear fission theory, but whoever hired him got all they paid for, plus a substantial bonus. Working by the day, in Nels' opinion, meant working twenty-four hours, if that were necessary. The cabin was spotless. Even the blankets had been aired.

With time heavy on his hands, Ted fretted. He collected the six grouse to which he was ent.i.tled and put them in the freezer. For lack of something else to do, he went twice more to the three sycamores near Glory Rock, the scene of Smoky Delbert's shooting. He didn't find anything, but he hadn't really expected to discover any new evidence or clues. Looking for them had helped kill time while he waited anxiously for the bear hunters.

Deer were not especially hard to get, if all one wanted was venison; there were does and young deer that wouldn't even run from hunters. But the big old bucks with acceptable racks of antlers got big because they were wary and they were difficult to bring down. Woodc.o.c.k were sporting and who hunted grouse successfully had every right to call himself a hunter. Squirrels were fun, providing one hunted them with a rifle instead of a shotgun. But unless one used dogs to bring them to bay--and it was against the law to use dogs on any big game in the Mahela--black bears were far and away the most difficult game of all.

Keen-nosed and sharp-eared, they almost always knew when hunters were about. Wise, they were well aware of the best ways to preserve their own hides. As circ.u.mstances prescribed, they could slink like ghosts or run like horses and they laid some heartbreaking trails. Fifty miles was no unusual distance for a black bear to cover in a day and they were full of tricks. Ted himself had followed black bears on snow and come to where the trail ended abruptly. The bears had walked backwards, stepping exactly in the tracks they had made running forward, and made a long sidewise jump that always delayed their pursuer and sometimes baffled him.

Some men who'd spent their lives in black bear country had yet to see their first one. It took hunters of the highest caliber to get them, and thus Ted looked forward to those who would occupy his camp. But while he waited there was little else to do and he spent some of his time in Lorton.

Just another sleepy little town for forty-nine weeks of the year, Lorton was almost feverishly preparing for its moment of glory. If it was not exactly the center of all eyes, due to its geographical position as the town nearest the Mahela, it was the center of deer hunting. Every room in its two hotels and three motels had long since been reserved and any householder with a room to rent could have a choice of at least ten hunters. In the next few weeks, Lorton would see at least twice as many deer hunters as it had permanent residents. Its normally quiet streets would have b.u.mper-to-b.u.mper traffic. Parking s.p.a.ce would be at a premium; there'd be crowds waiting in every eating place; stores would sell more merchandise than they did at any other time of the year; and any Lortonite who knew anything at all about the Mahela, even if his knowledge was limited to how to get into it and out of it again, could have a job guiding deer hunters, if he wanted it.

In addition, every camping ground in the Mahela would have its quota of trailers, tents and hardy souls who either slept in cars or made their beds on the ground. Sometimes, in the event of heavy storms, these venturesome ones got into trouble and were trapped until snowplows or rescue parties reached them. But this fall the weather had been mild, almost springlike, and there was every indication that it would continue to be so.

Twice, just after the grouse hunters left and again four days later, Ted sent Tammie to Al. He would send him again just before deer season opened, for that was an uncertain time. There would be hunters everywhere and no a.s.surance as to what they would do. Horses, cattle, sheep, leaves fluttering in the wind and men had all been mistaken for bucks with nice racks of antlers and punctured accordingly with high-powered ammunition. If Tammie should be delayed and have to come back in daylight, there was no guarantee whatever that some trigger-happy hunter would not consider him a choice black and white deer. Stocking Al with plenty of everything he needed meant that Tammie would not have to go out again until deer season ended.

Ted spent the two days prior to the opening of bear season cutting more wood for the camp. On the afternoon before, he built and banked a fire in the heating stove so that the camp would be reasonably warm and dry when the hunters arrived. Then he prepared his supper and Tammie's and was ready for the knock on his door when it sounded. He opened the door and blinked in astonishment.

The man who stood before him was young, not much older than Ted himself, and very grave. He wore hunting clothes and hunting boots, but perhaps because they were new, they seemed somewhat ill-fitting. Strapped around his middle were two belts, one containing a knife with a blade at least a foot long and the other supporting two enormous 45 caliber revolvers.

He was making every effort to appear nonchalant, but it was an effort so strained that the effect was a little ludicrous. His eyes brimmed with a lilting excitement and a vast antic.i.p.ation.

"Mr. Harkness?"

"Yes."

"I'm Alex Jackson."

"Oh, yes." Ted extended his hand. "Glad to see you, Mr. Jackson."

"As you can see," Alex Jackson indicated the two revolvers, "I'm ready for them."

"Uh--are you going bear hunting with revolvers?"

"Oh, no! Definitely not. I have my rifle, too. It's just that one must be prepared when the beasts charge."

"Ah--What'd you say?"

"I said--Oh, before I overlook it."

Alex Jackson took out his wallet and counted out the thirty-five dollars still due on the camp rental. Ted tried to collect his spinning thoughts. Expecting a seasoned, experienced hunter, he'd met instead a youngster who talked seriously about black bears charging. Or hadn't Ted heard correctly? He slipped the money into his pocket and looked sidewise at his guest.

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the camp."

"Would you have a little time to talk?"

"Of course."

"May I bring the fellows in?"

"Certainly."

The man turned to beckon, and somebody shut off the car's idling motor and flicked off its lights. Five more hunters came into the house, and Ted was introduced as they came. None were older than Alex Jackson. Two, Alex's brother Paul and a youngster named Philip Tarbox, looked as though they should be behind their high-school desks, rather than in a hunting camp. Alex Jackson turned with a smile.

"Now you know us. How do you like us?"

"Fine," Ted murmured. "Uh--how much bear hunting have any of you done?"

Alex Jackson's eyes were full of dreams. "None of us have ever hunted any big game, but I've read all about it."

"You've never hunted?"

"Not big game," Alex Jackson said modestly. "You see, I just came of age last month and thus was able to handle my own affairs. But I've always wanted to hunt big game, especially bears."

"Do--do your folks know you're here?"

"Paul and I haven't any, and I am now Paul's guardian. But the other fellows' parents do. Yes, of course, and they were glad to have them in my charge. I've been counsellor for three summers at Camp Monawami. You needn't worry about our ability to handle firearms. We've all hunted rabbits. But I would like to ask your advice."

"Sure." Ted felt weak.

"Philip, Steve, Arnold and Wilson are armed with nothing but shotguns.

Do you think I should return to the town through which we just pa.s.sed and buy them rifles and revolvers?"

"Gosh no!"

"I'm worried," Alex Jackson said seriously. "Grimshaw, in his _Bears of the North_, says that when the beasts charge--"

"Grimshaw was writing about grizzlies. These are black bears."

"Oh!" Alex Jackson elevated his brows. "You can say definitely that they will not charge?"

"n.o.body can say that. They're wild animals."