The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast

by F. R. Goulding

With this intention they pushed out of the creek, and descended to the proposed landing, where they made fast their raft to a crooked root, and stepped upon a firm beach of mixed mud and sand. The fiddlers (a small variety of crabs that look at a little distance like enormous black spiders) were scampering in every direction, with their mouths covered with foam, and their threatening claws raised in self-defence, until each one dived into its little hole, and peeped slyly at the strange intruders. A wild cat sat upon a neighbouring tree, watching their motions with as much composure as if she were a favourite tabby in her mistress' parlour. Frank was the first to spy and point it out. It was within a good rifle shot.

"Stand still a moment, if you wish to see how far a cat can jump," said Harold.

He rested his rifle upon a small tree, and taking steady aim, sent the ball, from a distance of seventy yards, through both sides of the cat, directly behind the shoulders. She leaped an immense distance, and fell dead. Frank seized it, saying it was his cat, and that he intended to take off its skin, and make it into a cap like cousin Harold's.

From the landing they followed the mark left by their hatchet upon the trees in their exploring tour, and it was not long before they recognized from a distance the poplar or tulip tree, in the hollow base of which the bear had made her den.

As yet Mum had given no indications of alarm; but on approaching the tree the boys selected for Mary and Frank a pretty little oak, with horizontal branches, in full sight of the den; and having prepared them a seat made comfortable with moss, and helped them into it, advanced to the field of battle.

To their disappointment the old bear was gone. The sun shone full into the hole, and revealed the two cubs alone, nicely rolled up in the middle of their bed, and soundly asleep. There was some reason to suppose that the mother would return before they left the neighbourhood, and in this expectation Harold prepared to secure the cubs. He placed Robert and Sam as videttes at a little distance, and also charged Mary and Frank to keep a sharp look out from their elevated position, while Mum and Fidelle were set to beating the surrounding bushes as scouts. But, notwithstanding all his care and skill, he found that the work of capturing the cubs was very difficult. The cavity being too large to allow of reaching them with his arms, and afraid to trust himself inside the hole, lest the old bear should arrive and catch him in the act, he relied upon throwing a slip noose over their heads, or upon their feet; but young as they were he found them astonishingly expert in warding off his traps. The only plan by which he at last succeeded, was with a hooked pole, by which he drew forth first one, and then the other, to the mouth of the den, where, after sundry bites and scratches, he seized their hind legs, passed a cord round their necks, and made it secure by a fast knot. This done, he tied each to a tree, where they growled and whined loudly for help. The hunters were now in a momentary expectation of hearing the bushes burst asunder, and seeing the old bear come roaring upon them; but she was too far distant, and had no suspicion of the savage robbery that was going on at her quiet home.

It was fully an hour before the cubs were taken and secured. By that time Mary and Frank had become so weary of their unnatural roosting, that they begged the others to cease their hunt, and return at once to the raft. But here arose a new and unforeseen difficulty. The distance to the raft was considerable, and the way was so tangled that they had made slow progress when they came; what could they now do, encumbered with two disorderly captives, and in constant danger of attack from the fiercest beast of the forest, "a bear robbed of her whelps"? It was easy enough to decide this question, if they would consent to free the captives and return as they came. But no one, except Mary and Frank, entertained this idea for a moment; they would have been ashamed to give up through fear what they had undertaken through choice.

The plan they at last devised was this--which though appearing to assign the post of danger to the youngest, was in fact the safest they could adopt. Mary and Frank led each a cub, but they were instructed to drop the cord on the first appearance of danger, and run to the safest point. Sam marched in the van, Harold brought up the rear; Mary and Frank were in the centre, and while Robert guarded one flank, the dogs were kept as much as possible on the other. It was with much misgiving that this plan was adopted, for the boys began to feel that they had engaged in a foolish scrape, involving a needless exposure of the young people, as well as of themselves. But they were now in for it, and they had no choice, except to go forward or to give up the project in disgrace. Formed in retreating column as described, and ready for instant battle, they turned their faces to the river, and marched with what haste they could.

They had not gone many steps, however, before Harold suddenly faced about, levelled his piece, and called to them to "look out!" He heard a bush move behind him, and supposed, of course, that it was the bear coming in pursuit, but it proved to be only a bent twig righting itself to its natural position.

Not long after Robert raised a similar alarm on his side, and levelled his gun at some unseen object that was moving rapidly through the bushes. Mary and Frank dropped the cords, and Frank clambered up a small tree near at hand. Mary turned very pale, and ran first to Sam, but hearing the noise approach that way, she ran back to Harold for protection. The next moment she saw Sam drop his gun from its aim, and call out,