"Well, I'll be with you. They cannot suffer much if shot through the head or heart; and I may as well begin a hunter's life killing bears and wolves; but the deer I'll never trouble."
Arrangements were made for the bear hunt, and a bear hunt they had; and all declared they were glad Fabens was along, for it gave him something not to be found on the Hudson. Torches were prepared, guns and axes were ready, dogs and men assembled at an early hour, and Fabens, Colwell, and Wilson were sent on a scout into the field to listen for the ravagers, and give the signal of attack. The full, bright moon beamed down from the sky, and every movement had to be stealthy and low to avoid alarm; and as Fabens crept into the field, and hid himself in the hollow of a stump, and listened, his very heart frightened him, for it beat so loudly, he waited in fear that it would alarm the bears, or betray him into their clutches. Beat, beat, went his heart; tang, tang, went the insects; hoot, hoot, went the owls; and on, and on rode the moon. Again his flint was examined; again his tinder-box felt for, and his torch fixed for lighting when it might be needed in the woods; and his eager ear opened wider and wider to catch a rustling noise.
At last the corn rustled, and footfalls sounded faintly in his ear, and
Colwell crept up and whispered, "The bears are in! don't you hear 'em?
They're movin' this way. There! hear 'em rattle the corn!—There,
there again, hear 'em snuffle and chank!"
"I hear something," said Fabens.
"That's 'um! Old Bruin has come with his wife and children. We'll give 'em a belly full. Stay here, Fabens, and I'll sly away, and start up the company. Hear that! and that!—they're snorters! Slink down into the stump; and if our comin' scares 'em, jump out and keep track a little. Don't be scart. We'll be along in a jiffy, and nab the varmints."
Colwell crept away, and exchanged a word with Wilson, and then stole off to rally the company. But Fabens began to shudder in his sentry-box. He had grown to be quite a backwoodsman; he had taken the strength and courage of the wild forest life; he was usually calm and self-possessed; but here was a new venture entirely, and while beat, beat, went his heart in rising alarm, the loud and louder rattle of the corn informed him of the closer coming of the animals. Now he hears them tear off an ear! Now they craunch it, and crowd snuffling along through the corn-hills! Now they cough, and his wildest fears are up; and now they breathe in hearing, and move as if for the place of his concealment, strip down a stalk, and rend off an ear, as he thinks, where Colwell just lay!
What shall he do? If he stirs, they may grasp him. If he remains, they will surely scent him out, and take him. O, terrible moment! Where in the world are the company, that they do not run to his relief? His hair stands on end, lifting his hat so high, the bears must see him now!—Shall he rise and shoot? He would be likely to miss, he is so awkward with a gun. Why did he consent to lie there? Why don't they come, as they said they would?—There! there! a step nearer, and the grate of their teeth sets him shivering! Now, now he must die!—Must he not? or what other sound is that more distant? Footsteps—a whisper, and—they come, they come! and away jump the bears, and away with dogs, axes, guns, and torches after them go the men of the hunt!
"Now, Fabens, up and away; the fun's afoot, the fun's afoot!" cried
Colwell.
"Yes; but such fun!" faltered Fabens.
"Come on, come on! Mr. Bruin and his cubs shall have a good visit at their home!" cried Wilson.