Phil Bradley's Snow-shoe Trail Part 4

No wonder he gave a shout of joy and proceeded to dance around, holding up his glittering barred prize. The others called out to congratulate him on his work. "Do it some more, Lub, and we'll have all the fish chowder we can eat!" Ethan told him; whereupon the delighted fisherman once more started in to finish his line of holes through the ice, working with a will.

The fish must have been pretty hungry in that Canadian lake, or else the "bought" lure that Phil had fetched along with him had some magical properties about it to attract the finny denizens. Certainly they kept Lub hopping from one place to another, amidst frequent bursts of joy, and also considerable puffing; for it must be remembered that the boy was excessively fat, and this action made him short of breath.

The results must have gladdened his heart. Every time he took a pleased look at the stack of fish he had started to build he chuckled with pride and glee. Some of the prizes were by now frozen, and remained where he had placed them; later arrivals flopped all around on the ice; but as fast as they became numb with the cold Lub would add them to his pile.

Such splendid fishing he could not remember of ever indulging in before.

After such glorious success the boys would have to crown him as the king of tip-up fishermen. And no doubt Lub's mouth watered as he contemplated the feast that would come at the end of that wonderful day.

If this good luck was going to be a specimen of what was coming their way surely the Canadian trip must be marked down with a red cross in the annals of their vacation experiences.

Lub was wholly given up to his work. So engrossed did he become in it that even the sound of the axes, and the voices of his chums failed to draw his attention any longer. In fact, he was fascinated with the charm of hauling in those glittering striped prizes; with an occasional muscalonge as well, fierce fighters that struggled madly against being dragged from their native element.

The boys ash.o.r.e had apparently cut enough small trees by now to satisfy their present wants. They no longer used the ax save to trim some end as they started to build the shack.

Phil had put all other things aside, lending his aid to further the work and really things were commencing to look like business.

Ethan and X-Ray were bending down, and urging a stubborn tree trunk to settle in its appointed place, while Phil waited to fasten it there, when without the least warning they heard a wild whoop.

It came with such astonishing vigor that every one of the three boys started up, the business in hand forgotten for the moment.

Of course they knew that it came from Lub out there on the ice. He had been giving some fancy exhibitions of shouting from time to time; so that the others had reached a point where they only grinned on hearing his notes of delight.

But this was different.

There was no chant of joy about the howl that had just reached their ears, to thrill them through and through; on the contrary plain _fear_ dominated the outburst!

CHAPTER IV

LUB'S BEAR

"It's Lub!" exclaimed X-Ray, like a flash, for he was always quick to jump at conclusions.

"He's fallen in one of his holes!" gasped Ethan.

"Not much; it's something worse than that!" cried Phil, as another whoop came to their ears.

It happened that they could not see out on the ice where they were standing, and consequently the first thing any of them thought of doing was to jump around the patch of bushes so as to get a clear view.

They could hardly believe their eyes. There was poor Lub trying his level best to run over the smooth ice, with a s.h.a.ggy black bear in hot pursuit! Even as they looked the animal went through a queer sort of gymnastic performance, as though striving to seize hold of some object that Lub seemed to be dragging after him.

"It's a fish on one of his lines the bear wants!" exclaimed Phil, hardly knowing whether to burst out laughing, or consider the situation a serious one for the terrified boy on the ice.

He compromised matters by darting aside and s.n.a.t.c.hing up his rifle; an act that caught the eye of Ethan Allen, and was instantly copied by that wideawake individual.

"Help! make him let up chasing after me!" shouted Lub, as well as he was able, considering the fact that he kept slipping and rolling over, only to scramble wildly to his feet, and start off once more in his clumsy fashion.

"Let him have the fish you're dragging after you!" shouted Phil, even as he began to move out on the ice, with the other two at his heels.

"I can't! Line's got fast to my leg; and he ate up all the others anyway!" Lub called back, as he waddled along with frantic zeal.

"Turn to the left so you'll be out of range when we shoot!" bellowed Phil.

Apparently the fugitive heard this, and also understood, for they could see that he was doing his best to obey; though the slippery ice did play all manner of tricks with those uncertain "pins" of his, causing him many a frantic struggle.

As he ran Lub could not keep from "rubbering" as Ethan called it. He would twist his fat neck around in order to learn just how close his hairy pursuer chanced to be at the moment. This helped to make his flight more uncertain, and brought about his downfall several times.

As Phil and Ethan were much more surefooted than the stout boy, and not at all frightened, they made better progress. On this account they gained continually, so that when Lub had managed to sheer off, and presented his left side to them, they were really close enough to make sure of the bear.

"Ready, Ethan?" called out Phil.

"Yes!" came the reply, as both of them suddenly stopped short.

The two reports sounded almost as one. Lub gave another squeal as though his nerves were strained to the limit; but when on casting one of his apprehensive looks over his shoulder he saw his tormentor struggling there on the ice as though he had received his death hurt, the fat boy's humor changed.

"Give him some more, fellows!" he shrieked. "The glutton! to devour all my fine fish. We'll make it up by feasting on bear steak to-night, then; that's the only way to get even. Oh! he's getting up again, and he's got it in for me because I said that. Shoot him once more, Phil!"

"It's no use, because he's done for," Phil told him, for the bear after that expiring effort had fallen back again, and given his last kick.

When Lub made sure of this, and saw that his chums were all gathered about the fallen animal, he summoned up enough courage to join the circle.

"How did it happen, Lub?" asked X-Ray, who had now joined the rest.

The stout chum rubbed his chin, and shrugged his plump shoulders.

"Gee! but he did give me a terrible shock!" he remarked, as though once more pa.s.sing through the dreadful experience of the surprise.

"Tell us about it," urged Ethan; "and how did it come you let him eat up all your fish without giving the alarm?"

"Well, this is about the way it happened," Lub began. "My back was turned on the pile of fish for I was fighting with the gamiest one of the lot, this husky muscalonge here, the only real decent one that's left," and he mournfully surveyed the still flopping fish that he had been dragging after him all the while.

"Yes, go on, what happened then?" continued the eager X-Ray.

"Why, I remember hearing some sort of champing sound back of me, but I guess I must have thought you fellows were making it ash.o.r.e. Anyway I never bothered paying the least bit of attention to the same but kept on fighting this musky here for all I was worth. Whew!"

"You pulled the fish in finally of course?" said Ethan as the other paused to wipe his streaming forehead for all it was so cold.

"Yes, with a great big yank," Lub explained. "It kind of flew through the air a bit, and I turned at the same time to see that bear rear up on his hind legs and do his level best to grab the flying fish. When it fell to the ice he started for it, and that was when I managed to let off my first whoop for help."

"Yes, I kind of thought you called out that word, but I wasn't dead sure," X-Ray told him; "but what next did you-all do, as our old friend Simon Blodgett down on the Coast would say?"

"What, me? I ran like everything, fell down, got on my feet again, and seeing the bear putting after me I kept agoing and awhooping for all I was worth."

"Did you know he was after the fish, and not you?" asked Phil, secretly amused, though managing to keep a straight face.

"Why, yes, I got on to that wrinkle, all right," replied the other, "because I could see him trying to fall on the fish every chance he had.