An Escape from the Bear-Scrape.
For hours they sat upon their painful perch—now glancing downward at the fierce gaoler that watched unweariedly below—now gazing out upon the plain, where the dusky droves still continued to move. For hours the buffaloes kept passing northward, until the setting sun glanced redly from their brown bodies. Once or twice again the boys thought they saw white ones in the herd; but their eyes had grown dim with watching, and the pain which they endured now rendered them indifferent to aught else than their own misery. Despair had conquered hope—for they were choking with thirst—and death stared them in the face.
After a long while the bear again lay down, and placing his fore-paws over his head appeared once more to sleep. Basil could stand it no longer; and now resolved to make an effort to escape. At all events he would try to bring about some change in their painful situation.
Cautioning his brothers to remain silent, he slipped down from his tree; and, with the stealthy tread of a cat, crept over the ground in search of his rifle. He soon laid hands upon it; and then, returning to his tree, climbed up again. The shaking of the branches as he did so, awoke the bear; who sprang to his feet, and rushed towards the tree. Had he been a moment sooner, it would have been ill for Basil, for the snout of the animal, as he reared upward against the trunk, almost touched the boy’s feet. It was an “inch of a miss as good as a mile,” and Basil was saved. The next moment he was seated among the branches, and leisurely loading his rifle!
Strange to say, the bear appeared to comprehend this movement. As if aware of his danger, he kept out farther from the trees; and, while rambling about, now, for the first time, stumbled upon what remained of the carcasses of the big-horns. These he proceeded to tear up, and devour. He was still within range of the rifle, though not for a sure shot; but Basil, who knew he could load again, was determined either to force him farther off, or bring him within reach; and with this intent he took aim and fired. The bullet hit the bear in the fore-shoulder, for he was seen to turn his head and tear at the spot with his teeth, all the while growling with rage and pain. Strange to say, he still continued to devour the meat!
Again Basil loaded and fired as before. This time the animal received the shot about the head, which caused him to make fresh demonstrations of his fury. He dropped his prey, and galloped back among the trees, first clutching one and then another, making repeated efforts to drag them down. He at length came to Basil’s tree, and seized it in his fierce hug. This was exactly what the young hunter wanted. He had hastily reloaded, and as the bear stood upright under the branches, he leant downwards until the muzzle of his rifle almost touched the snout of the animal. Then came the report—a stream of fire was poured into the very face of the bear—and a crashing sound followed. As the smoke cleared off, the huge body was seen kicking and sprawling upon the ground. The leaden messenger had done its work. It had passed through the brain; and in a few seconds the shaggy monster lay motionless upon the earth.
The boys now dropped from the trees. François and Lucien ran for their guns, and all three having loaded with care, proceeded toward the ravine. They stayed not to examine the enemy that had been slain. Thirst urged them on, and they thought only of getting to the spring below. They were full of hope that the she-bear and her cub had been killed by their first fire, and that they would now find the road clear.
What was their disappointment when, on looking down the ravine, they saw the cub lying doubled up, near the bottom, and the old one standing sentry over it! The cub was evidently dead. So much the worse—as the mother would not now leave it for a moment, and both were directly in the path. The latter was moving backward and forward upon a ledge of rock, at intervals approaching the cub and tossing its body with her snout, and then uttering a low querulous moan, that was painful to listen to!
The hunters saw at once that their situation was as bad as ever. Their retreat was cut off by the infuriated mother, who might remain where she was for an indefinite time. Should they fire down upon her, and take the chances of once more escaping to the trees? This was an alternative which they had reason to dread. Their painful experience decided them against it. What then? Remain until after night-fall, and try to steal past in the darkness? Perhaps the bear might retire to her cave, and give them an opportunity to do so. But in the meantime they were dying of thirst!
At this moment a happy idea suggested itself to Lucien. He saw the cactus plants growing near. There were large globes of the echinocactus. He remembered having read that these often assuaged the thirst of the desert traveller. The plants were soon reached, and their succulent masses laid open by the knives of the hunters. The cool watery fibres were applied to their lips; and in a few minutes their thirst was alleviated and almost forgotten. Still the bear occupied the ravine, and so long as she remained there, there was no possible chance of their getting back to camp. They saw, however, that they could do nothing better than wait for the night, in hopes that the darkness might bring about something in their favour.
Night soon came on, but not darkness. It chanced to be a clear moonlight; and they saw at once............