“That’s enough,” said Ben. “You’ve taught Jan to eat frogs, and he has taught you that if a Dutchman is slow, he is sure, and that you can’t fool him wuth a cent. Scatter the brands and pick up your dunnage. It’s time to be on the way.”
“How far is it?” said Jules.
“A matter of five miles or so,” said the trapper. “But we’ll get our pay for the long journey we’ve made ef we ar’ a little footsore at the end. Come on!”
They shouldered their pieces and strode off into the hills, the Dutchman sauntering in the rear, leading his horse by the bridle.
CHAPTER II.
THE GRIZZLY BEAR.
Ben Miffin strode on in advance of both the others, leading his horse, loaded with camp utensils, by the bridle. This man was known far and wide upon the prairies, as a skillful trapper, a bold hunter, and an Indian fighter of great renown. He had one quality which was his own, in common with many of his class—of boasting of his exploits. Perhaps this trait was a part of his frontier education, learned from the Indians. At any rate Ben exhibited the strange anomaly of a boaster who was at the same time a brave man. The scars upon his body were taken in many a bloody fight along the Yellowstone, by the Platte, on the Washington, and in the Sierras. His step was free and firm in spite of his fifty-five years, and the gray hairs sprinkled in his heavy beard and mustache.
The road lay through a growth of scattered pines, such as grow upon the Black Hills, and among others a few specimens of the nut-pine, known only in the West. Ben stooped to pick up one of the cones, and as he was tearing off the husk to get at the seed he heard a sound which caused him to drop the cone and seize his rifle. The sound was a grunt resembling the grunt of a hog, and looking up, he saw, a few feet from him, an enormous grizzly bear, standing with his head cocked on one side in a knowing manner, regarding the trio in a way which seemed to say that he hesitated to decide which of the three would make the best meal. There is no living mountaineer who does not fear the grizzly bear. Their strength and ferocity can not be fairly stated. Ben knew the danger he had to encounter, and was ready to meet it like a man. The Frenchman aimed his rifle at the animal, but dropped it again at the stern signal of Ben Miffin’s hand, who never removed his keen eyes from those of the fierce animal. Cooper says in “The Pioneers,” “There is something in the front of the image of his Creator that daunts the hearts of the inferior beings of creation.” And the great student of nature was right. No one knew better than Ben Miffin the power of the human eye, and his never quailed.
“Let me shoot,” whispered Jules.
“For your life, don’t!” muttered Ben. “Hold yer charge tell I give ye the word, and then let him hev it.”
“I can shoot him while he stands still,” replied Jules.