"You Mum! Come in, sah! You git yo' libber shot out o' you, you scary warment!"
The alarm was occasioned by Mum, who, unperceived by any, had wandered to the wrong side.
The cubs, trained by this time to obey the cord, and either weary with the walk, or submissive to a fate that seemed so gentle, had not stirred from the spot where they were left. Frank slipped quietly from his tree, hoping that nobody had seen him; but Robert caught his eye, and gave a sly wink, to which Frank doggedly replied,
"I don't care, sir. I suspect you would like to have been up a tree too, if you could have got there."
"That I should, Frank," said Robert; "but it seems that you are the only one of the crowd who can find trees in time when bears are about."
They resumed their march to the landing, and were interrupted only once more. The bushes before them rustled loudly, Fidelle rushed forward in pursuit, and the ground shook with the heavy trampling of some large beast. It was on Sam's side; but as he brought his piece to a level, Harold cried, "Deer! deer! don't shoot!" and again all was quiet.
A short walk brought them to the landing; where they wiped their moist brows, and rested, thankful that they had completed their perilous journey without accident. But their dangers were by no means over. The tide was down; the raft was aground; it was not possible to leave for hours; and in the meantime the enraged beast might follow the trace of her cubs, and perhaps assault them where they were. In view of this contingency they tied the young bears at a distance from the shore, but within sight of their own place of repose, confident that if the mother came she would bestow her first care in breaking their bonds, and taking them away, in which case they could attack and destroy her.
With this expectation they sat down to their Christmas dinner, for which they had by this time a pretty keen appetite. Sam stood sentry while they ate; then Robert and Harold by turns took his post, and gave him opportunity to dine. The spice of danger gave great zest to the enjoyment of all except Mary, who would vastly have preferred being at their comparatively secure and quiet home upon the prairie.
The tide finally rose, and floated the raft. They once more embarked. The young bears were secured, so that they could neither escape nor annoy. The fastening was cast off. Harold's oar, which he used as a pole for shoving off, sunk in the yielding sand, and Robert's "Heigh ho for home!" was hardly uttered, when they heard a tramping on the bluff, and a moment after saw the bear standing on the spot they had left. She stared in surprise at the retreating raft, whined affectionately to her cubs, who whined in answer, and tried to break loose; then seeing their efforts to be ineffectual, and the raft to be moving away, she raised such a roar as made every heart tremble, and with a fierce look at the persons on board plunged into the water. The raft was by this time but ten yards from shore, and slowly "backing" into the stream. Harold's rifle was quickly at his shoulder, and in a second more the blood spouted from the mouth and nose of the terrible beast. But the wound was not mortal, piercing below the eyes, and entering the nostrils and throat; and blowing out the blood by successive snorts, she plunged on, and began to swim.
"Now, Robert!" shouted Harold, "be steady! Aim between her eyes!"