The Peril Finders Part 52

It was evident in the dream that they did not mean to destroy him, for though they hovered over him with their heads playing up and down upon their elastic necks, while their eyes glittered and their forked tongues darted in and out of the opening in their jaws, they did not strike, only kept him in a state of horror and suspense, till they made way for one of the porcupines that had been named at supper-time. This came quietly up to the foot of his bed, and walked up from his boots to his knees, with its black and white quills lying down as smoothly as if they formed so much excessively coa.r.s.e hair. But then as the creature continued its walk, to be soon upon the boy's chest, it seemed to get into a violent pa.s.sion, setting up its quills at all angles and rattling them together till it seemed about to dash at him. But instead of doing anything obnoxious it suddenly disappeared before the advance of a skunk, which came trotting up his body from his feet, just after the same fashion as the porcupine, but looking fiercely aggressive, in spite of the beauty of its clean, glossy, black and white fur. Its eyes gleamed and sparkled; it showed its glistening sharp white teeth, and waving its erect tail, which curved over its back like a squirrel's, it twitched in the same way, and seemed every moment about to make a rush at the boy's face to inflict one of its dangerously poisonous bites, while the twitching tail threatened the discharge of the horribly offensive fluid which will send a determined dog yelling plaintively, as, completely cowed, it beats a retreat.

It seemed an hour of expectancy for what did not come off, and all the time the sleeper lay half-conscious in the painful experience, telling himself that it was all fancy, for it was only a dream.

This was just as he was about to recover full consciousness, for the skunk gradually died away from where it had seemed to be standing upon his chest, and Chris lay wide awake with his heart beating, painfully wide awake now, and with every nerve on the strain, as he listened and tried to make out the meaning of a strange heavy breathing mingled with a sniffing, snuffling which came from somewhere at the back of his head.

Chris's first thought was of springing up out of the trough-like bed-place he had selected and escaping by the foot; but before he could put this into effect there was a rustling sound on the big piece of rock he had jammed in behind his head, and though he could see nothing he could feel that something had stepped up on to the stone and was bending over him; the snuffling breathing grew louder, and, to his horror, he felt a puff of hot breath full in his face.

There was no springing up now. An icy feeling chilled him, and he lay perfectly motionless, unable to stir, and feeling as if he had suddenly sunk into another dream--a nightmare this, by which he was completely fettered.

His rifle lay on one side, loaded; his revolver was on the other, and within reach of his hand; but he could not lift a finger, only stare upward with his eyes fixed upon the stars, which now seemed to be eclipsed by something dark pa.s.sing between his face and them and remaining perfectly motionless for a few seconds. Then it pa.s.sed onward and he could see the stars again, conscious the while that whatever the creature might be that had visited him it was now standing or sitting upon the long rock, to his left, breathing hard, with its head very near his own, and that, apparently dissatisfied with its position, or uneasy, it raised itself up and stepped over to the other side of the bed, forming what looked faintly like a black arch before the hind-legs followed the fore and it began to shuffle about uneasily upon the rock to the boy's right. Then there was a sc.r.a.ping sound, and something fell with a thump on to the listener's chest and slipped down between the rock and his ribs.

Chris's heart had ceased its heavy beating, but at this point it gave a tremendous bound which seemed to give him a momentary feeling of resolution and strength; but momentary only. He could not stir even now, only think, and listen to the creature upon the rock as it uttered a peculiar whining sound, followed by a deep grunt.

Then all was still, as if the animal had been slightly alarmed and was now listening.

"If I stir," thought Chris--for he knew what his visitant must be--"if I stir it will seize me with its claws and bury its teeth in my throat.

Oh, it is hard!"

For he knew what had happened: the bear had in changing its position upon the long piece of rock disturbed the revolver lying there, and knocked it off on to the sleeper's chest, from which it had glided down between his ribs and the rock to lie close to his hand, where he could not seize it for his defence without rousing the animal to an attack before he could c.o.c.k the pistol and fire.

The position was horrible, for Chris felt that the monster must be a grizzly, one of the fiercest and most powerful beasts that roam the forest, and though so much help was close at hand, it seemed to the boy that it might as well be a mile away, for he dared not--no, not dared, but simply could not--utter a sound.

How long this agony lasted he could not tell, but all the time he felt a strange combination of sensations, for it was as if his body was turned to ice, his head was on fire, and hot and cold together he was melting away.

He could see dimly the bulky dark figure of his visitant, but he judged that it could see him plainly, for it kept on moving about uneasily, and twice over changed its position from one rock to the other, bridging them over, and then sitting up as if listening, before coming down softly on all fours again, to stretch out its neck and begin sniffing at him from end to end.

At last, when a horrible feeling of faintness was creeping up from head to brain, a thrill ran through the boy, for a great paw was stretched out, touched him on the breast, and he felt the claws catch in the right side of his jacket as he was lifted up a little with a strange sc.r.a.ping sound against the rock, and something rolled over on to his chest as he was lowered down again, and then rolled back against his right-hand.

The shuffling sound began again, and as if to claw him out of the narrow trench-like place in which he lay, the bear reached out once more, thrusting its great paw down between him and the rock, and with the claws right under him began to lift him out.

Chris felt himself rising slowly, and knew that the next thing would be that he would be seized by the animal's teeth and slowly carried off to his lair.

But a change had come over the lad in those moments, ever since the first movement had sent something on to his chest to roll back against his hand. For that something was the revolver, about whose b.u.t.t Chris's fingers closed, and as the bear's shuffling had raised him up there was a _click, click_ of the lock, a movement of the boy's wrist which directed the muzzle of the little piece upward, and then in an agony of desperation his right finger pressed the trigger and there was a sharp echoing report, followed by a furious yell and crash which was followed by a call for help, and the voice of Wilton.

"Who fired that shot?" he shouted.

"I did," gasped Chris, who had scrambled to his feet, trembling in every limb.

"Who called for help?" shouted Griggs.

"I! Help!" came again.

"That you, Bourne?" said the doctor.

"Yes," came in a choking voice as of some one being suffocated.

"Oh, it's father!" shrieked Ned, and he rushed in the direction of the sound, just as there was a snarling, worrying sound and the breaking of wood as if a heavy body was rushing among the trees.

"Ah!" came in Bourne's voice, loudly. "No, my boy, not hurt, but I thought I was gone."

The speaker was the centre of a little group now, two of whom struck matches, and Wilton produced a lanthorn, which was lit and held up, to disclose the face of Bourne, covered with blood, and his jacket hanging down below his waist, literally ripped up.

"Help him to lie down," said the doctor anxiously. "Now, old fellow, tell me, where are you wounded?"

"Only in my jacket, I hope," was the reply, given cheerfully enough.

"Who shot the brute?"

"I did," said Chris.

"You?" cried Griggs. "Then it was not you, Mr Bourne?"

"I? No! I was woke up by the shot, and coming to see, when I was knocked down by the brute. It fell on me, pinning me to the ground, kicking and struggling the while. I thought I should have been smothered. Is this its blood all over me?"

"Yes, if you are not torn."

"I'm not hurt that I know of. One of its fangs caught me somewhere about the collar and tore my jacket right down to the waist."

"No, you can't be wounded," said the doctor, "or you wouldn't talk like that. Here, Chris, you say you fired?"

"Yes, father," said the boy, and he hurriedly related his experience.

"What an escape for you both!" cried the doctor. "The brute must have been desperately wounded by your pistol-shot, Chris, my boy. You hit him hard."

"Couldn't very well miss him at that distance, sir," said Griggs dryly.

"The brute's lying somewhere about. Look out, every one, for he'll be pretty dangerous."

"He must have gone ever so far," cried Ned, "for I heard the trees breaking for long enough. But are you quite sure you're not hurt, father?"

"Not a bit, my boy; I only want a wash and another jacket. Ugh! This blood is horrible. But I say, Wilton, you're a pretty sort of a fellow to keep guard while we slept!"

"Oh, I was on the lookout for Indians. You didn't say anything about bears. What was this one--a grizzly, Griggs?"

"Didn't see it, neighbour, but I shouldn't think it was. Black one or brown one, I should say. Cinnamon, p'r'aps."

"Why not a grizzly?"

"Because he wouldn't have taken a shot in him so quietly. He'd be rampaging about here ready to tear us all to pieces."

"Hadn't we better try and follow up the brute with the lanthorn?"

"I should say not," was the reply. "If he's only wounded he must be lying up savage-like, and as soon as he sees the light he'll show fight.

If he's badly hurt he may have gone on till he drops, and be nearly dead by now."

"But we can't lie down and go to sleep again after this."

"Well, no, sir," said Griggs coolly; "it don't sound tempting."

"Then you would try and track the brute?"