Beatrice and Hester were at the cabin when the two berry pickers returned. They declared that they had seen nothing of Dabney Mills, who had apparently taken himself off. They had a hilarious lunch, during which Beatrice imitated the airs and graces of the insistent reporter, while Nancy, as she waited on the table, assumed the shuffling mannerisms of Joe Ling. Aunt Anna declared herself so worn out with laughing at them that she retired early for her nap, and Beatrice presently, after Hester was gone, went upstairs to sleep also. Nancy spent a large part of the afternoon finishing her cake, for even the icing, with its alternate layers of brown and white was a work of art in itself. Finally the task was completed, however, and the dish set to cool on the window-ledge. When at last it became time to think about the evening meal she discovered that she needed fresh kindling for the fire and went out to the shed to fetch it. She opened the door and started back with a cry of surprise. Seated on the straw, with his back to the wall and his note-book on his knee, was Dabney Mills.
“I heard that fellow, Olaf you call him, say that he was coming back at four o’clock with the milk, so I came back to have a word with him when we shouldn’t be disturbed. I’ve been waiting quite a while. He’s late,” he declared crossly. He got up and walked stiffly to the door.
“Say,” he exclaimed, “What’s that beside your window. I do believe it’s a bear!” His tone was one of undisguised dismay.
“Where?” said Nancy, running out after him. “Oh, my cake, my cake!” she cried in distress.
The same creature that she and Olaf had seen when they were berrying had come down the hill and was running an investigating and appreciative tongue over the icing of the precious cake. She had been used, perhaps, to prowl about the cabin when it was empty and was now making herself very much at home. Although plainly pleased with her refreshment, she dropped down when she heard their voices and began to shamble off toward the sheltering underbrush.
“Let her go quietly,” Nancy warned, “don’t disturb her, don’t, don’t!”
Dabney Mills plucking up courage at the animal’s willingness to depart, was attempting to speed her going by throwing stones after her. Picking up a square block of wood from beside the shed, he flung it with unfortunate success, in spite of Nancy’s catching at his arm. It caught the bear full on the side of the head.
She turned, bared all her teeth in an angry snarl, and rushed upon them. Without ceremony they fled, past the shed, away from the house, and up the hill. To reach the safety of the cabin, they would have to pass by her, which at the moment was unthinkable. Therefore, as the angry creature climbed steadily after them, they were forced further and further up toward the open spaces of the mountain.
“I’m not afraid. She won’t hurt us,” Nancy kept telling herself, though her teeth were chattering and her breath was coming short. Bewildered as she was, she still had presence of mind enough to try to bend their course in a circle so that at last they might come nearer home. But no such coolness possessed her companion. Excited, almost hysterical with terror, he shouted at the bear, waved his arms, and threw sticks and stones at her every time the steep trail afforded him opportunity.
“Stop, don’t, you are only making it worse,” Nancy begged him breathlessly, but he was far too terrified to pay any heed to her words.