Phil Bradley's Snow-shoe Trail Part 5

But I objected to turning over my last catch to the old scoundrel; even if the line hadn't gone and got fast to my leg I don't believe I'd have let him have it, unless it came to nip and tuck with me."

"Well, you have plenty of time to gather another lot of fish, Lub,"

suggested Ethan; "and after all, your adventure has been the means of gaining us our first fresh meat in Canada. We paid enough for our licenses to hunt up here to want to get the worth of our good money."

"And, Phil, don't you think I've got a right to call him _my_ bear?"

asked Lub, as if struck with a sudden inspiration.

"What! after the two of us shot him?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ethan.

"But didn't I _lure_ him along with my trailing muscalonge?" demanded Lub, triumphantly; "if it hadn't been for me fishing so industriously out here on the ice, and tempting Bruin to show himself, would you have had a chance to shoot? I guess not. You only finished my work for me; I must have had him all tired out running."

Ethan wore a wide grin by that time.

"Sure you did, Lub," he declared frankly, with a wink toward Phil; "anybody could see that you meant to wear him down to his death. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth, and if you'd kept him going _long enough_ there isn't any doubt but that the poor thing would have turned up his toes without a single shot being fired. We'll call him Lub's coaxed bear after this."

"There's two of your tip-ups acting crazy, Lub," called out X-Ray just then; "and you'd better be taking off the fish you'll find on the hooks."

"Isn't this the greatest sort of sport though?" said Lub, as he started off to attend to his lines.

"It certainly couldn't well be beaten!" admitted Phil, as he and his two comrades indulged in a fit of laughter that was none the less vigorous because they chose to keep it silent, out of consideration for the feelings of their beloved fat chum.

"I wonder how it comes this chap hadn't gone into winter quarters yet?"

Ethan remarked, poking the dead bear with the toe of his boot. "Down our way they can seldom be seen after the first snowfall, and never come out until there is a regular break-up of winter."

"Well, away up here the winter lasts much longer, and that would account for it," Phil suggested. "They may want to stay out to the very last, knowing how it holds on away up to May. But no matter what the cause, this fine fat fellow stayed out too long."

"He'll not hibernate any more if we know it," observed X-Ray Tyson, with a satisfied smirk; "instead he'll help to fill up four hungry chaps I happen to be acquainted with. And after all what n.o.bler end could any bear wish to come to than that?"

Two of the boys returned, to get busy again on the shack; while Phil stayed out on the ice to attend to taking the hide from the dead bear, and securing what choice portions they wanted.

It promised to be a long task, but Phil did it, as he was in the habit of doing everything he undertook, with exactness. Lub kept on taking more fish, though whenever he found a breathing spell between bites he would amble over to watch what Phil was doing, and make remarks.

"I'll have that skin made into a fine rug, some of these days," he declared, as he ran his hand over the silky hair; "and every time I look at it I'll remember what a great time I had luring the beast within range of your guns."

"What would have been your plan of campaign, Lub, in case we had not happened to be within hailing distance?" asked Phil, looking quite innocent as he said it.

Lub gave him rather a suspicious glance, and then replied loftily:

"Oh! I don't know. To be frank I hadn't reached that point. Mebbe I might have used my knife, and cut the fish line, so he could grab the muscalonge. Then while he was devouring that I might have found a chance to sneak up behind and finish the rascal with one sure blow from my trusty hunting knife. Course I don't actually say I _would_ have done that; but it might have occurred to me, you know."

When Phil allowed his memory to go back and recall the look of terror he had seen on Lub's white face he decided in his own mind that there was about as much chance of such a wonderful feat being carried out as there was of Lub developing wings and flying.

"You're getting as many fish as we can well use, I reckon, Lub?" he remarked, to change the subject.

"Sure thing, Phil; and after I pull in three more I think I'll call it off for to-day. I've covered a good many miles, running from one hole to another, and back again over the whole line. I didn't come up here to reduce myself to a shadow, you know. Over-work is a bad thing for a growing boy, they say."

"There's only one thing I'll always be sorry for, Lub."

"You mean about this bear adventure, don't you?" asked the other, suspiciously.

"Yes. I should have kept my wits about me and have done it, too."

"What was that, Phil?"

"s.n.a.t.c.hed up my camera and managed to snap off a picture of how you lured your bear into the trap. Some of our boy friends down Brewster-way would like to see it. They may be inclined to doubt more or less when they hear the story; but that would be proof they'd have to accept as genuine, Lub."

The fat boy seemed to consider it for a brief time.

When he turned to meet Phil's gaze again there was a whimsical expression on his face that spoke volumes.

"Well, on the whole, Phil," he went on to say, "I guess I'm just as glad you did forget to grab up your camera that time. You see, in telling a story a fellow might accidentally embellish just a little more each time; and a picture is a terrible accusation, for it keeps you pinned down close to facts. There, I've got a bite on two lines. Whoof, hold on!"

CHAPTER V

X-RAY STRAPS ON HIS SNOW-SHOES

Long before evening came around Lub had time to recover from his excessive labors of the day, so that he was in good trim to start supper.

"It wasn't so much the strain of fishing, and attending to half a dozen tip-ups that knocked me out, as that warm little dance the bear led me, you see, fellows," he explained, when some one chanced to remark that he got up on his feet as though his knee-joints were stiff and rusty.

"Yes," said Ethan, drily, "this thing of _luring_ is always hard on the muscles and nerves. Only the most rugged const.i.tutions can stand it."

Lub grinned, but did not pursue the subject any further. He was soon busily engaged in cooking the fish which had been cleaned and prepared long before.

Luckily they had two good-sized frying-pans with them; for that was one of the occasions where they came in handy. Nothing would do but they must have some bear steak, though Phil warned them they were apt to find it rather tough. Still, who would have the heart to complain about a little thing like that, when the game had fallen to their own rifles, after Lub had gotten in his fine work; certainly none of the Mountain Boys, who had gone through too many episodes along these lines not to accept things as they came, with a laugh and a good word.

That was a bounteous feast, and one to be long remembered. The fish tasted as sweet as shad, and had the same sort of "pitchfork" bones in them too, which must be watched for, and jealousy guarded against. If the bear steak was hard to masticate, at the same time it was a camp dinner, not one served on a damask tablecloth, with cut-gla.s.s, and silver, and napkins to boot!

"Well, it's coming along at last, fellows!" announced X-Ray Tyson, about the time they had finished their meal.

"What's that you're referring to?" demanded Ethan; while Lub looked hastily on all sides of him, just as though he half expected to see the mate of his bear standing there on the border of the camp, and sniffing at the odor of cooked meat that still hung around the scene.

"Why, don't you see 'em trailing down?" demanded X-Ray, who seemed to be quite jubilant over something or other.

"He means it's commenced to snow!" said Ethan.

"Just what," the other added, "and if it gets a good move on perhaps to-morrow will see me gliding along on my snow-shoes that I've owned nearly a year now, and never had a decent chance to use."

He made a dive over to where the said articles were hanging, and taking them down proceeded to try them on. The others had seen X-Ray do this so often that it was no novel sight to them.

Phil, who had had considerable experience with snow-shoes, had shown the other some little "wrinkles" in connection with fixing the clumsy contraptions to his feet, so that X-Ray was quite proficient, so far as that part of it went.

He seemed to fancy that there would be no trouble at all about spinning along over the country, once he "got the hang of things."

"I'm bound to pull off some stunts while we're up here," he remarked, as he sat and looked at his prized possessions, now fastened with the straps to the toes of his shoes, leaving the heels free; "and I only hope the snow gets knee-deep by morning. I've read about how hunters up here in Canada chase the moose when a crust forms on the deep snow, and I want to try it for myself."