Mr. Stott slipped on his brass knuckles and stood with his head out of the tent opening, adding his shouts to those of Hicks and McGonnigle, who, by now, were hurling such missiles as they could lay their hands on. Instead of having hysterics as might have been expected, Aunt Lizzie Philbrick astonished herself and others by standing out in the open with her petticoat over her nightgown, prepared to give battle with the heel of her slipper to the first bear that attacked her.
It was not until Mr. Hicks got hold of two washbasins and used them as cymbals that the bears paid any attention. But this sound, added to the pandemonium of screaming women, finally frightened them. Then, scattering in all directions, they started back to the shadows.
Suddenly Mr. Appel let out such a cry as seemed that it must not only split his throat but rend the very heavens. Small wonder! A cinnamon bear weighing in the neighbourhood of eight hundred pounds planted its left hind foot in the pit of his stomach as it went galloping away to the timber.
In the brush where Mr. Penrose had been sleeping tranquilly other things were happening. In the midst of his slumbers, a dream in which he thought he was being dragged to the fire like a calf for branding came to him. The dream grew so real that it awakened him. He received a swift and unpleasant impression that he was moving, then he was startled to find that he was not only moving, but moving so rapidly that the canvas bottom of his tent was scraping on the rocks and brush over which it travelled.
Mr. Penrose was enraged instantly. At best he had little patience with practical jokers and none at all with one who had the impudence to awaken him. He called out angrily.
The tent stopped moving and there was quiet.
Mr. Penrose, who had raised himself on his elbow, laid down and was about to begin where he had left off when his domicile resumed its journey.
Now thoroughly aroused, he sprang up and tore at the flap-fastenings.
"This is going to stop right here!" he cried, furiously. "I do not appreciate this odious Western humour. You have chosen the wrong person to play your jokes on!"
He reached for the pointed fish-pole which was lying in its case in the bottom of the tent and stepped through the opening.