The Outdoor Chums Part 31

"But he _has_ hit him more than once. Look how the brute is bleeding, and just to think, Jerry, he's got two more chances. Those pump-guns don't seem so very bad in an emergency," laughed Frank, who seemed to be enjoying the little affair very much indeed.

"There goes one more; and the bear still lives. Talk to me about that, will you, if he didn't shoot its stub of a tail off that time! What next, I wonder? Why not execute the poor beast scientifically, and not murder him by inches?"

He moved his gun forward again as though bent on shooting. Frank, however, would not let him raise the weapon.

"Wait, I say; give Bluff one more chance. Make allowance for his excitement and his position while the bear is shaking that tree so. If he misses again we will both fire together and put an end to the comedy before it turns into a tragedy."

"That's what it will be if Bluff ever drops down into those claws. Why don't the duffer shoot? I can't stand it much longer, I tell you."

"Hold hard. I've no doubt he's waiting to get a good show, when the bear stops rocking that tree for a second. There now!"

A sixth roar drowned Frank's last words. This time Bluff must have steeled his nerves, and covered the side of the bear, for with the report the animal keeled over, made a vain attempt to get up again, gave a few kicks, and then lay still.

"Hurrah! Bluff has killed his bear!" yelled Frank, rushing forward, and swinging his hat excitedly.

"Come down here and stand over the fallen beast while I immortalize you as the mightiest Nimrod of them all," called Will, rushing up with his camera ready to do the business with neatness and dispatch.

Jerry said nothing. He looked a bit dejected as he stood there and surveyed the dead bear. It was not envy that gripped his soul either, for Jerry was generous by nature. Something else had seized upon him, and Frank smiled as though satisfied with the way things had come out.

Bluff came scrambling down from his uncertain perch, looking wild.

"Is he really dead, fellows? Just to think that after all I did it with my new repeating shotgun! Ain't it a dandy, though? If Jerry hadn't gone to work and hid it away, I might have downed all the game that's come into this camp," he said, looking upon the black, hairy beast with a shudder, for he had had quite a severe fright while swaying to and fro with an angry bear beneath waiting for him to drop, like a ripe persimmon, as Jerry afterwards described it.

"Jerry?" shouted Will, in blank amazement.

"Yes, he stuck the gun in that long box over there. You remember his falling over it and bruising his shins. That was what gave him the miserable idea, I suppose. Anyway, he did it while the rest of us were out in the brush hunting for the fellow who threw those rocks into our camp," declared Bluff, scowling at the author of his woes.

Jerry laughed, a little forcedly it is true.

"I suppose I might as well own up, Bluff. I'm the guilty wretch, all right. The temptation came to me, and I did the job without thinking what it would mean to you. Honestly I've felt sore about it more than once since, and had just about made up my mind to confess, when by some accident, it seems, you found it. But you don't know it all. I hid the gun and then, when I went to see if it was safe, it was gone. I didn't know what to make of that, but fancied somebody else in camp had taken it. Then I commenced a search, and I found the gun down near that hole. I rather think some of the Lasher crowd came and took the gun, but I am not sure. After I found the gun I brought it to camp and put it in the box again. I take back some of the hard things I've been saying about that weapon. She can shoot, all right, and in the hands of an expert might, as I said, clean out all the game going."

"Frank told me to take another look around, just before you fellows left camp. I didn't have the heart to until a little while back, and was delighted to find the gun under those pieces of canvas in the box.

It wasn't wet a bit in that hot old storm we had, either," continued Bluff again, as be contemplated his quarry, and then puffed out with honest pride.

"Say, was it you shooting a little while back?" asked Will, just then; "because we heard a lot of shots somewhere around."

"Why, yes, I got Uncle Toby to stand behind a tree, and throw up the wash basin half a dozen times while I banged away."

"Yes," said Frank, picking up the article in question, "and to judge from the holes you put through it we'll have to do without a basin during the remainder of our stay in camp. But how do you suppose this bear wandered into camp?"

"Reckons dat he jest smells de cawn, Ma.r.s.e Frank, w'en I opens up de can, an' by gorry, dat b'ar he can't resist de temptations to hab some. I seen him comin' foh me, an' I jest lets out a yell an' runs up dis yer safety ladder," remarked Toby, as he patted the article in question affectionately.

"We heard the yells, all right, and came running. Look here, Bluff, old man, you got your bear in spite of my playing that mean trick on you; are you going to call it quits, and be friends?" asked Jerry, holding out his hand.

"I--er--I don't know," stammered Bluff.

"I am just as sorry as I can be, Bluff, really I am, and I'd give the world if I hadn't played that trick. At first I was going to own up, but when you went off after the Lasher crowd it--well, I didn't see how I could do it. But after I got it back I hoped every hour that you would look into the box and discover the gun. Oh, say you'll forgive me!" added Jerry, pleadingly.

"Well, I feel a bit raw about it yet, but this is no time to show resentment, with such a glorious trophy at my feet. Yes, we'll call it quits, Jerry, only after this you might forget to sneer at a gun that happens to be different from yours."

"I agree, and that ends it," said Jerry, as he squeezed the other's hand.

CHAPTER XXV

BREAKING CAMP

And they had bear steak for supper.

Honestly, none of them thought a great deal of the treat, only that it seemed to be the proper thing for hunters to enjoy the results of their prowess with their guns.

Bluff was the happiest chap in camp, unless Will be excepted; he fondled that recovered gun almost the whole evening, and while Jerry winced every time he saw it, he dared not lift up his voice in protest after the great work which the so-called Gatling gun had done in the hands of a greenhorn.

Jerry with all his skill in the line of shooting had never been given the opportunity to kill a bear, and he felt that the time had gone by for him to cla.s.s Bluff as a "come-on."

They spent a joyful evening, though, going over the exciting incidents of the last forty-eight hours again and again.

"And to think that we have only been up here a few days, boys. Why, if this sort of thing keeps on at this rate during our two weeks' stay, whatever in the world am I going to do for more films?" asked Will, plaintively.

"Keep the balance for especially good subjects," said Jerry, carelessly.

"Yes, but sometimes, you know, the best pictures are those you fail to get. Now, there was that one with you hanging to that ladder, I'll never get over my disappointment about losing that. Whenever anything of that sort crops up again, I hope n.o.body will steal my camera."

"Talk to me about dogged perseverance, this fellow certainly has 'em all beat to a frazzle," said Jerry, with an injured air, "I expect next he'll be proposing that we go back to that old shaft, and while I hang by my teeth to that blessed, shaky ladder, he will crack off a few views of the circus. Don't you dare propose that, or I'll forget my promise to be good, and begin to hide things again!"

"Oh! all right, I won't mention it, only it's a shame, that's what, when any fellow in these days refuses to put himself out a little just to oblige a friend, and interest posterity," grumbled Will.

They stayed up until quite late, singing songs of school and college life, and having a happy time. Not one among the four dreamed of the shadow that was even then hovering over Kamp Kill Kare.

There was no alarm that night, for which one and all felt grateful. This thing of being aroused out of a sound sleep to have the covers whipped off by a roaring gale may read all very nice, but the reality is quite a different matter. And when wild animals invade the peaceful camp it strikes one as very funny in print, but is apt to bring about a chilly feeling when encountered in real life.

As usual, Frank was the first one up, and he soon had the camp astir with his cheery calls. The nipping, frosty air proclaimed that now the Fall had come in earnest, and that they would be glad after this to keep a fire burning during each night, for warmth.

As they sat about the blaze after breakfast, laying out plans for the day, the sound of a horse's neigh startled them.

"It's the sheriff, I reckon," said Jerry, as they jumped up.

And he had guessed correctly, for presently they saw a horseman appear, and as he came up he waved his hand in greeting.

"Sorry, boys, but I've got some bad news for you," he said.

"Anybody dead, or sick?" asked Frank, turning a bit pale.

"Oh, no, nothing of that sort, I'm glad to say. This concerns you fellows only?" was the quick reply of Mr. Dodd, the sheriff.

The four boys looked at one another with alarm.