Part 15 (1/2)
”How?” I inquired, eagerly, and lowered my rifle.
”Are you good on the climb?”
”Climb? This tree? Why, with one hand. Back in Pennsylvania I climbed sh.e.l.l-bark hickory-trees with the lowest limb fifty feet from the ground. .. But there weren't any bears up them.”
”You must keep out of his way if he comes down on you. He's a sa.s.sy little chap. Now take this rope an' go up an' climb round him.”
”Climb round him?” I queried, as I gazed dubiously upward. ”You mean to slip out on the branches and go up hand-over-hand till I get above him.
The branches up there seem pretty close--I might. But suppose he goes higher?”
”I'm lookin' fer him to go clean to the top. But you can beat him to it--mebbe.”
”Any danger of his attacking me--up there?”
”Wal, not much. If he hugs the trunk he'll have to hold on fer all he's worth. But if he stands on the branches an' you come up close he might bat you one. Mebbe I'd better go up.”
”Oh, I'm going--I only wanted to know what to expect. Now, in case I get above him, what then?”
”Make him back down till he reaches these first branches. When he gets so far I'll tell you what to do.” I put my arm through the coil of rope, and, slinging it snugly over my shoulder, began to climb the pine. It was the work of only a moment to reach the first branch.
”Wal, I reckon you're some relation to a squirrel at thet,” said Hiram Bent. ”Jest as I thought the little cuss is climbin' higher. Thet's goin' to worry us.”
It was like stepping up a ladder from the first branch to the fork.
The cub had gone up the right-hand trunk some fifteen feet, and was now hugging it. At that short distance he looked alarmingly big. But I saw he would have all he could do to hold on, and if I could climb the left trunk and get above him there would be little to fear. How I did it so quickly was a mystery, but amid the cracking of dead branches and pattering of falling bark and swaying of the tree-top I gained a position above him.
He was so close that I could smell him. His quick little eyes snapped fire and fear at once; he uttered a sound that was between a whine and a growl.
”Hey, youngster!” yelled Hiram, ”thet's high enough--'tain't safe--be careful now.”
With the words I looked out below me, to see the old hunter standing in the glade waving his arms.
”I'm all right!” I yelled down. ”Now, how'll I drive him?”
”Break off a branch an' switch him.”
There was not a branch above me that I could break, but a few feet below was a slender, dead limb. I slid down and got it, and, holding on with my left arm and legs, I began to thrash the cub. He growled fiercely.
snapped at the stick, and began to back down.
”He's started!” I cried, in glee. ”Go on, Cubby--down with you!”
Clumsy as he was, he made swift time. I was hard put to keep close to him. I slipped down the trunk--holding on one instant and sliding down the next. But below the fork it was harder for Cubby and easier for me. The branches rather hindered his backward progress while they aided mine. Growling and whining, with long claws ripping the bark, he went down. All of a sudden I became aware of the old hunter thres.h.i.+ng about under the tree.
”Hold on--not so fast!” he yelled.
Still the cub kept going, and stopped with his haunches on the first branch. There, looking down, he saw an enemy below him, and hesitated.
But he looked up, and, seeing me, began to back down again. Hiram pounded the tree with a dead branch. Cubby evidently intended to reach the ground, for the noise did not stop him. Then the hunter ran a little way to a windfall, and came back with the upper half of a dead sapling.
With this he began to prod the bear. Thereupon, Cubby lost no time in getting up to the first branch again, where he halted.
”Throw the noose on him now--anywhere,” ordered the hunter. ”An' we've no time to lose. He's gittin' sa.s.sier every minnit.”