The Story of Wool Part 11

"Sandy!" he called. "Sandy!"

There was no reply.

With growing apprehension he thrust out his hand in the direction where the herder had been lying.

The chill of the cold earth met his touch.

Terrified he sprang to his feet and bent down in the darkness.

There was no one with him in the tent! Sandy and the herd were gone!

For a while Donald stood very still. He was really alone, then--alone, miles from the home ranch, and not knowing the way back again! This was his first thought. The next was of Sandy.

All that Thornton had hinted flashed into his mind. Sandy was not to be trusted, Thornton had told his father. If they placed any dependence on the young Scotchman they would some time regret it.

Had Sandy deceived him?

What possible object could he have, Donald asked himself, in so quietly departing with the sheep and leaving him behind?

At least he had left the tent.

Had he taken the food and rifles with him?

With beating heart Donald scrambled for his match-box and made a light.

No, there was the knapsack of provisions, the saucepan, the coffee-pot!

In the corner, too, stood his own rifle. But Sandy's rifle was missing.

Donald reflected a moment.

Sandy must be coming back. Ah, that was it! But where had he gone? Why should he rise up in the middle of the night, take the flock and dogs, and steal off in this noiseless fashion? The boy could not solve the enigma.

For the present, at least, there was nothing to be done. He glanced at his watch. It was three o'clock. He turned into his sleeping-bag again, having first taken the precaution to put his rifle within easy reach.

Yet try as he would he could not sleep. His eyes stared, broad awake, at the shadowy dome of the tent. He wished it was day.

As he lay there straining his ears for the cadence of approaching herd-bells he was conscious of a m.u.f.fled sound--a dull, soft footfall, as if some one was loitering stealthily about the tent. He heard it again. Then he could distinctly hear a sniffing at the corner of the tent near which the provisions lay.

Donald's heart leaped to his throat.

He could feel the blood pounding under his ears.

Who was coming so near with that velvety tread?

Noiselessly he wriggled out of his sleeping-bag and stood behind the flap of the tent, rifle in hand. Then he heard the unmistakable panting of some heavy creature--some creature so close to him that he could detect the rhythm of every breath it drew. Shaking in every limb he stole a look outside. Just beside the opening of his shelter he could see, clearly defined in the moonlight, a thick, dark shadow outlined on the gra.s.s. It was cast by some beast that was halting near the doorway.

In another second it would be upon him.

The boy caught his breath.

There was no time to think.

Raising his rifle, he fired at the great dark ma.s.s. Again he fired!

Had he struck the mark?

Another instant would tell.

The creature would either roll over wounded, or would spring upon him.

He jammed back the trigger of his rifle. The tremor that had swept over him at first now left his hand. His arm was perfectly steady, his blood swinging in quick throbs through his body. He fired a third time.

There was a heavy thud, the rolling of a black ma.s.s on the ground, a gasp, a growl! Then all was quiet.

Still Donald dared not take any chances. He poured another round of shot into his victim. It did not move.

Then cautiously he crept outside, his rifle tight in his grasp.

There on the ground a s.h.a.ggy object lay motionless.

He went nearer.

Then he gave a shout of astonishment.

It was a bear!

He had shot a bear--he, Donald Clark, alone and unaided, had really shot a bear! What a story to tell his father; and Sandy, too; and the fellows at home!

Then, for the first time, he was conscious of a trembling in his arms.

His knees felt strangely weak. Now that the excitement was over he realized that he wanted to sit down. His rifle slipped from his fingers and he dropped to the turf. There he rested in a dazed sort of way and reviewed the tragedy. Suppose he had not been awake? Suppose the bear had come into the tent while he lay there asleep and unarmed? In his heart he felt very grateful for his escape.

Then there followed a disquieting thought--suppose there were other bears! He had often read of their coming in groups of fives and sixes.

It was no time for him to sit limply on the ground. He caught up his rifle and recharged its empty chambers. Then before the tent door he sat until sunrise, anxiously scanning the dim pasture-land and the distant rocky fastnesses. It seemed as if the day would never come.

Presently across the intervale he caught the faint tinkle of herd-bells.

Over the brim of rolling green just ahead of him came the flock, Sandy leading them, and the collies nipping at their heels. The herder strode rapidly forward, waving his sombrero as he came. Donald ran to meet him.

"Are you safe and sound, laddie?" called Sandy when he got within shouting distance. "I have had a thousand minds about you--whether I ought not to have waked you, tired as you were, and taken you with me; or whether it was better to let you sleep. You see when the full moon rose the sheep set out grazing. It's a trick they have. Many a time they have done it; when they once set out no power on earth will stop them.

So the dogs and I had to go along too. I reckoned you would sleep until we got back. The herd went farther, though, than I thought they would. I had great trouble rounding them up."

As he talked they neared the camp where Sandy's keen eye took in at a glance every detail of the scene before him. Then he looked sharply at Donald. Under the thick tan the boy could see him pale. His lips became livid.

"Donald, lad, you are not hurt?" he cried, motioning to the bear that lay stretched on the gra.s.s.

"No, Sandy, not a bit. Truly I'm not. See! Isn't he a big one?"

"He is many a size too big for a boy like you to be fighting alone. I was a blind idiot to leave you behind me. Thank the good Lord you got off without a scratch. When I think of what might have come to you----!

The next time I'll no go grazing without you, Don. But who would have thought of a bear venturing into these lowlands! He must have been very hungry."

Later Donald had to relate every part of his adventure, and they skinned the black bear and spread his hide out in the sun.