“Of course he does,” replied Bert. “We’ll leave the dogs here and go home and get help.”
“That’s the idea. We shall need plenty of it, too, for that bear is pretty heavy, and it will take a strong force to drag her to the bayou and put her into the boat. Here, boys,” he added, calling to his dogs and placing his hand on the tree in which the young bear had taken refuge, “keep your eyes on him and don’t let him come down.”
The hounds understood him and seemed quite willing to remain and watch the game. They had passed many a night in the woods guarding a coon tree, and we know how faithfully they and the rest of Don’s pack watched Lester and Bob while they were on the top of the negro cabin. All they had to do was to “keep their eyes” on the bear in the tree; the one in the trap could not possibly escape.
Don now shouldered his rifle and retraced his steps along the path, followed by his faithful gun-bearer. When they reached the scene of the fight they found Lester Brigham sitting up with his back supported against a tree and Bob Owens kneeling beside him in the act of handing him a cup of water.
After the brothers ran toward the clearing Bob waited and listened, expecting every instant to hear the sounds of another desperate struggle; but as nothing but the baying of the hounds came to his ears, he made up his mind that there were no more old bears about, and finally mustered up courage enough to go to the assistance of his companion as Don had suggested. He made his way to the ground and stopping long enough to take a good look at the huge animal which had been the cause of so much alarm to him, he ran up the path to see how Lester was getting on. The latter was beginning to show some signs of returning animation, and the cup of water that Bob dashed into his face brought all his faculties back to him. He opened his eyes and seemed instantly to recall all the exciting incidents that had so recently occurred. He jumped to his feet with a cry of alarm, but was so weak that if Bob had not caught him in his arms he would have fallen to the ground. Bob propped him up against a tree and after assuring him that the bear was dead, hurried off to the bayou after another cup of water.
“How do you feel, Lester?” asked Don, with some anxiety.
“All done up,” was the scarcely audible reply. “I feel as if every bone in my body was broken. I’ll tell you what it is: if I had been in practice, as I was when I took my last hunt in Michigan, you wouldn’t have had a chance to shoot that bear. I’ve killed dozens of them; but this one came upon me so suddenly that I couldn’t do anything.”
“I guess you are all right,” thought Don, with a sly glance at his brother. “As long as a boy can tell falsehoods there’s not much the matter with him.” Then aloud he asked: “Can we be of any assistance to you?”
“O, no,” replied Lester, who wanted nothing to do with the boys he had wronged. “I shall be able to walk in a few minutes and Bob will take care of me.”
“Very well; then we will go home. We must have help to get this old bear into a boat, and besides there are two cubs back there in the clearing that we want to capture alive. They are worth twenty dollars apiece, and the money belongs to Dave Evans.”