Through Forest and Fire Part 20

They were relieved beyond expression to see the figure of the st.u.r.dy little fellow, as he emerged from the gloom, and took his seat around the camp fire.

They noticed that he limped, and knew something unusual must have taken place to delay him. He had the most attentive of listeners when he related his dangerous encounter with the buck, which came so nigh ending his life.

But, happily, he had come out without any serious injury, and the lads attacked their supper with the keenest of appet.i.tes.

"The reason the buck did not kill you," said Herbert, "was because he was disabled by the wound I gave him."

"He was struck by one bullet only, and that one was mine," said Nick, who saw no sense in deferring to the absurd claims of the youth.

"Possibly not, but we shall have to examine his carca.s.s to make sure of that."

"I don't believe we shall have much time to look after dead deer," said Sam, "for I believe we are in the neighborhood of the very bear we're looking for."

His friends turned toward him for an explanation of this remark, which was uttered with all seriousness.

"Bowser has been acting very queer for the last half-hour."

"I think he has acted queer all day," observed Nick.

"I did not consider him of much account until he saved me from the rattlesnake this afternoon; after that, I'm ready to believe he's got a good deal more sense than you are willing to think."

Then Sam told his story, and added that the hound had left the vicinity of the fire several times, and, going some distance in the woods, had come back, giving utterance to a peculiar whine. At the same time he looked up in the face of his master with much the same expression as he did when seeking to warn him of his danger from the poisonous serpent.

"There he goes now!" suddenly exclaimed Sam; "just watch him!"

Bowser had been stretched out near enough to the fire to receive much of its warmth, and appeared to be asleep. All at once he threw up his head and sniffed the air, as though he scented something; then he rose, with a low whine, and trotted straight out in the gloom.

The lads listened attentively for some sound from him, but all remained still. At the end of ten minutes he came trotting to view again, and walked straight up to his master, looked up in his face, wagging his tail, and whined again.

"You can depend on it," said Sam, "he has made some discovery, though I have no idea what it is."

"Let's follow him and find out."

It was Nick Ribsam who made the proposal; the others were inclined to hold back, but the plucky little fellow insisted, and it was agreed that Bowser's secret should be learned by keeping him company to the spot which he visited.

CHAPTER XXVI.

AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK.

The three boys had scarcely agreed to the proposition to follow the hound, when Bowser, as if he understood their intention, rose from the ground where he had been lying, close to the camp fire, looked sharply out in the gloom of the surrounding woods, and then moved along the same course he had taken several times before.

He did not trot, but walked with a deliberate gait, as if he felt the importance of being the leader of such a party.

"It must be a wild animal," said Sam, in an undertone, "or Bowser wouldn't act that way."

"It's the bear, of course; see that your guns are ready, and when you fire be sure you don't miss," warned Herbert.

An idea suddenly occurred to Nick Ribsam.

"All wild animals are afraid of fire: let's each take a torch to keep him off."

The others eagerly caught up a blazing brand and strode forward with more confidence than ever.

Herbert Watrous, who was sensible that he had not made such an exhibition before the others as he desired, placed himself at the head of the little company.

He hardly would have done this, had he not been certain that the flaming brands would act as a shield to keep away the wild animal, whatever its nature.

Each lad found it a little awkward to carry his loaded and c.o.c.ked rifle in one hand and the flaming stick of wood in the other. It cannot be said there was any special difficulty in the task itself, but if a crisis came the boy would have to surrender one of his weapons.

The young hunters formed a picturesque group as they moved forward in Indian file, each holding a burning torch above his head and swinging it so as to keep the blaze going, while his gun was trailed in the other hand.

The hound Bowser was at the head, Herbert Watrous next, Sam Harper followed, and Nick Ribsam, who still limped slightly, brought up the rear.

The hound showed an intelligence which would have been surprising but for his action respecting the rattlesnake. He kept on a slow walk, so as not to leave his friends, and now and then looked at them, as if to make sure they were not trying to shrink from an important duty.

"Keep your torches going," called out Herbert, in a husky whisper, as he swung his own so vigorously that a large piece dropped off, and, falling on his foot, caused him to leap up with an exclamation of affright.

The fact was, they had gone no more than a hundred feet from the camp fire when Herbert began to feel that he had not shown enough care in picking out his torch, for the blaze was feeble, and, in spite of continued nursing, showed a tendency to collapse altogether.

"Keep close to me, boys," he said, waiting for Sam to come still nearer, "for I don't like the way this torch is behaving; I believe it is going out altogether, and I think I'll get a better--"

"_Look out! there he is now!_" exclaimed Sam, in no little excitement.

As he uttered the warning words, Bowser turned squarely about and ran back to where his master had halted with the smoking torch, and crouched at his feet, whining and appealing for protection against some enemy.

Just then a savage sniff was heard, followed instantly by the sound of hoofs, as the unknown animal charged upon Herbert Watrous, who was whirling his half-expired torch around his head with such swiftness that it made a ring of fire, similar to those which all boys delight to look upon during the pyrotechnic displays on the Fourth of July.

Herbert was so impressed with the importance of this action, that he threw all his energy in it, stooping down and rising on his tip-toes with the motion of the torch, and grunting hard and with much regularity, as he always did when exerting himself with unusual vigor.

He caught the warning cry of Sam and the rattle of the hoofs at the same instant.

"_Shoot him! Shoot him!_" he shouted to his friends, who could not gain the view of the beast necessary to make the shot safe for Herbert himself.

The savage creature, from some reason, probably because the torch was less formidable, made for the city youth, who was not aware of his danger until too late.

The brute went directly between his outspread feet, and, lifting him on his back, carried him several paces, when Herbert, his gun, torch, and himself, mixed up in great confusion, rolled off backward, turning a partial somersault and landing solidly on his head, his gun going off in the confusion and adding to it.

Sam Harper threw down his torch, so as to use his rifle, but he saw Herbert's dilemma and waited the chance to shoot without danger of harming him; but the partial extinguishment of his own torch, and the total blotting out of Herbert's, rendered the risk still greater.

While he stood, with gun partly raised and hand on the trigger, Herbert rolled off, but Sam had not time to catch the fact when the beast shot between his legs, and he felt himself lifted off his feet and fairly whizzing through the air.

Nick Ribsam's torch was burning brightly and illuminated the whole scene. He was in a stooping position, holding his flaming brand so he could see everything, and he was laughing so hard that he could hardly keep from falling to the ground from weakness.

He had recognized the animal, which they had held in such terror, as a large hog that had doubtless wandered in the woods so long with his mates, eating the acorns and nuts fallen from the trees, that he was half wild and ready to attack any one who came near him.