With Trapper Jim in the North Woods Part 16

"With my lamps blindfolded," Steve ventured.

"Then come on with me. We ought to have bear steak for supper to-night,"

and holding on to the eager and straining Ajax, while Owen looked after Don, the trapper led the pursuit.

Everywhere could be seen the plain marks where the weighty clog had plowed into the ground when the trapped bear pulled it along after him.

As the trapper had said, the merest tyro could easily have followed such a broad, blood-marked trail.

Sooner or later they must expect to come upon the bear unless he had been able, through good luck, to reach his den ere now.

The excitement on the part of the two dogs grew more intense.

"We must be crawling upon him, I should think," Max remarked.

"Just what we're doing," the trapper replied, "and, unless I miss my guess, we'll find him caught fast in this thicket just ahead. Slow up, boys. There's no need of hurrying any more, for I think he's waiting up for us right here."

With their hearts beating like trip hammers the boys now approached the thicket into which the plain trail of the heavy clog seemed to plunge.

CHAPTER XI

"STEADY, STEVE, STEADY!"

"Listen!" said Trapper Jim.

All of them became silent. Even the dogs, as if recognizing some vein of authority in that one word spoken by their master, ceased barking, though still straining hard in the leash, as though fairly wild to break away.

There was a crackling of the bushes, and this grew louder.

"Oh, I see him!" cried Bandy-legs.

"Get ready to shoot, everybody, if I give this word; but don't pull trigger unless you hear me yell you to," called out the trapper.

Then there was a savage roar that seemed to make the very air quiver. Out of the thicket scrambled a big black bear, looking furious indeed.

Thinking they were about to be attacked, and in a panic at the very idea, some of the boys leveled their guns. They might have pulled trigger, too, in their excitement, only for the quick warning the old wood's ranger gave.

"Hold your fire, everybody. It's all off. No danger as long as that clog remains fast!" was what he shouted.

Max could readily grasp the situation. He saw that the angry beast could only come just so far, because something was holding one of his hind legs.

"The clog's got fast among the rocks in there, and he's held as tight as can be; that's what's the matter," Steve sang out.

Of course the only thing left to do now was for some one to put a bullet where it would be apt to do the most good.

Who would be appointed to carry out this part of the programme?

Steve hoped Trapper Jim would look favorably upon him when seeking a candidate. He had never shot a bear in all his life, and while there would be little glory attached to the pa.s.sing of one that was held fast in a trap, still it would be something to think of later on.

But Trapper Jim was a wise man. He supposed that every one of the boys was fairly quivering with eagerness to be the one selected.

As he looked around at the five anxious faces the trapper scratched his head, as though unable to decide.

"It can't be did that way," he muttered. "They must draw lots for it, and the shortest straw wins out. Hear that, boys?"

"Yes, and it's all to the mustard," said Steve, keeping on the alert, and ready to pour in the contents of both barrels should the trapped bear give any evidence of freeing the clog.

"Then here goes."

With that the trapper fastened Ajax to a tree, and then, bending down, picked up a number of twigs. These he seemed to pinch off so that they were all of a size but one, which was shorter.

"Remember, boys," he said, as he mixed these in his hand, so that one could not be told from the others, "it ain't the longest pole that knocks the persimmons this time. The feller who gets the short straw has the chance. Take a pick, Steve."

Steve, of course, could not hold back. And while the dogs were jumping to the length of their leashes and barking madly, with the bear roaring an accompaniment as he tugged desperately at his chain, he drew a splinter of wood.

"Missed! Gee, what tough luck!" Steve exclaimed, in a chagrined voice, as he stared at his prize.

"Try your luck, next!" said Trapper Jim.

Max made a choice. He met with the same result that had given Steve such an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

Then Owen stepped up eagerly.

"I've got it picked out," he remarked, "and it's all over but the shouting." Then he chose, and was jeered by Steve.

"That leaves it a toss-up between Toby Jucklin and Bandy-legs!" he exclaimed, envy plainly marked in his voice.

The two who had yet to draw looked a little frightened. Truth to tell, neither of them experienced anything in the shape of an overwhelming desire to "slay the jabberwock," as Owen put it.

"Draw, Toby, and be quick about it," Steve flung out; "don't you see the old chap's getting all out of patience. Pull out a straw, now, and be done with it. Whatever you draw settles it."

So Toby, with trembling fingers, did as he was told. And immediately he glanced down at the one he had taken, he grinned.

For it was one of the longer straws, similar to those taken by the others. Bandy-legs grew pale.

"Do I have to draw?" he asked, almost piteously.

"Sure you do!" cried Steve. "There's only one left, and you draw that.

It's the fatal short one, too. You ring up the prize, Bandy-legs!"

"But--I didn't have any choice!" remonstrated the one selected by fate to be the executioner of the trapped bear.

"Huh, I like that!" laughed Steve. "Why, you had a chance every time one of us stepped up and made a pick. Go on, now, and get ready to do for him, unless you've got cold feet and want to hand it over to somebody else."

But somehow Steve's jeering remarks had stirred Bandy-legs' pride. He looked hard at the other. Then he shut his jaws tight together.