With Trapper Jim in the North Woods Part 17

"Thanks! I guess I'll do the job myself!" he remarked.

"With that pop gun of yours?" asked the incredulous Steve.

"No, I'm going to ask Max to lend me his rifle," replied Bandy-legs.

"Much you know about a repeating rifle!" continued his tormentor.

"Well, I did fire it a few times at a target, didn't I, Max?" protested the chosen one.

"You sure did, and really hit the target once," Max hastened to answer, as he exchanged guns with Bandy-legs.

"Huh, that ain't sayin' much, when like as not the target was a _barn_!"

Ignoring this last thrust from Steve as something beneath his notice, Bandy-legs saw to it that the hammer of the repeating rifle was drawn back.

"Where'll I stand, Uncle Jim?" he demanded, trying to appear quite cool; but the experienced old trapper knew very well how he was secretly quivering all over.

"Here, drop down behind this rock and rest your rifle on it," he said.

"Now, wait till I say the word, and then press the trigger. Aim just back of the foreleg, because you're more apt to reach his heart there."

"What if I don't kill him?" asked Bandy-legs, with a big sigh.

"Clap another sh.e.l.l in and give it to him. Reckon you know how to work the trombone action, don't you?" the trapper went on to say.

"Sure I do," answered the Nimrod, lowering his cheek to the stock of the gun.

"Remember, now, and don't shut your eyes, Bandy-legs!" advised Steve.

"Let up on that, Steve," remarked Max, who was greatly interested in seeing the novice get a square deal.

Half a minute of waiting followed. The dogs continued to jump and bark, and the bear, made savage by his pain, tugged at his chain and growled.

"Shoot!" said Trapper Jim, suddenly.

Almost with the word came the clear report of the rifle, showing that at least Steve's jibes had had the effect of putting Bandy-legs on his mettle.

With a fearful roar the bear fell over and began struggling. The dogs seemed almost frantic now in their desire to break loose.

"Quick, work the pump action and get ready!" called out Trapper Jim.

Bandy-legs managed to do as he was told, though he was shaking so by this time that he almost let the gun drop.

"Hold on, no use wasting another shot. I reckon he's done for," was what he heard Trapper Jim say.

"And you've been and gone and killed a real live bear, Bandy-legs!" said Max.

The boy heaved a sigh as he gave back the rifle.

"But he was held fast in a trap, Max," he said, moodily; "guess that ain't so much to crow over."

"But ain't he a whopper!" exclaimed Steve, who was at the bear's side almost as soon as the animal had ceased to struggle.

"If we only had a c-c-camera here now we'd take him with his f-f-foot planted on the old b-b-bear and holdin' his g-g-gun!" exclaimed Toby.

Here was plenty of work for all hands.

The bear must first of all be skinned, because Jim said he had a splendid hide that would be worth a good deal to him when properly dried.

Then they wanted some of the meat, in fact all that was worth while, for Jim would dry that which they did not consume.

"Plenty of fat, too," he observed, as he worked. "I like that, because I'm short just now on bear's grease, and a supply would come in handy."

"What do you use it for, Uncle Jim?" asked Owen.

"Dozens of things. I rub it on boots, I keep my guns and ax from rustin'

by smearin' it on. Why, long ago in the woods I've known where families made candles out of bear's fat by using a wick in the middle."

By degrees he managed to cut the bear up. The meat was wrapped in packages, so that it might all be transported to the cabin.

"What about the trap; will you set it again?" asked Steve.

"Not here," was the reply. "No other bear is likely to come along the trail this fellow made. One of you boys had best tote it back home. I may need it again this winter if the season stays open and the bears come out to look around, like they do mild winters."

It was well on toward noon when they arrived once more at the cabin, each one being pretty well loaded down.

They concluded to have a bite to eat before attempting anything further.

But the cooking of the bear meat would have to be deferred until later in the day, as it would take too much time.

Feeling refreshed after their meal, the boys announced themselves ready to undertake any further business.

Max, Steve, and Toby were to take that four-mile tramp after the venison that had been left behind on their former trip.

"Seems like we're getting our share of happenings up here," remarked Steve, as he and his two chums tramped steadily on.

"Well, yes, it does look that way, Steve."

"Things come along right smart these days and nights," continued the other. "And already it's paid us for the long trip, 'cording to my calculations."

"It certainly has," admitted Max.

"With more'n a week more to come," added Steve. "And there's only one thing I feel bad about, too."

"I think I could give a guess what that is," said Max; "the bobcat."

"Hit it plumb center that time," laughed the other, as he shifted his gun to the other shoulder, for on the four-mile tramp it was beginning to feel rather heavy.

"Well, I wouldn't bother my head any over that fellow getting away scot-free," Max continued. "He didn't do any damage, and, as Uncle Jim says, you might have been sorry if you went out in the dark woods looking for trouble. When anybody does that he generally finds it, all right."