“You needn’t be so smart; it hasn’t been long since you had nothing but a hatchet. You think because you’ve got a gun you’re very big and cute. I’ll bet the time will come when you’ll be glad enough that I have a hatchet.”
Tom was a truer prophet than he thought, for the day soon came when the hatchet proved itself true steel.
The boys had started out before sun-up one morning, and were deep into the forest when daylight was fairly abroad. Tige and Prince were with them, and were trotting lazily along at the boys’ heels, for the day was very warm, and there was no breeze in the forest. They had been walking for several hours, and had almost lost hope, when suddenly a deep growl seemed to come from the ground almost at their feet. The boys sprang back in a hurry, for right in their path stood an enormous bear, where a moment before there had been nothing.
“Lordy! it’s the one-eared bear,” cried Tom, and the hairs on his head fairly stood on end.
My! what a monster of fierceness the bear was. His head, throat, and paws, were covered with blood, evidently from some animal that he had been eating, and his great red mouth, sharp white teeth, and cropped ear gave him a most ferocious and terrifying appearance.
Balser’s first impulse, now that he had found the long-sought one-eared bear, I am sorry to say, was to retreat. That was Tom’s first impulse also, and, notwithstanding his knives and hatchet, he acted upon it quicker than a circus clown can turn a somersault.
Balser also started to run, but thought better of it, and turned to give battle to the bear, fully determined to act slowly and deliberately, and to make no mistake about his aim.
“’Lordy, Balser! It’s the one-eared bear.’”
He knew that a false aim would end his own days, and would add one more victim to the already long list of the one-eared bear.