“So she did,” exclaimed Lester. “And it was while the bear was knocking me over that you shot her. Now keep all these little things in mind, so that our stories will agree.”
“Is that what you are going to tell your father?”
“That’s just it.”
“Well, don’t you think it will help the bond business a little? I saved your life, you know; for, of course, the bear would have killed you if I hadn’t stood by you.”
“I’ll say so, if you want me to, but it will not be necessary. You needn’t worry about those bonds, for I assure you they are all right. Father does almost every thing I ask him to do.”
Greatly encouraged by these words, Bob bent to his work with redoubled energy, and the little canoe shot swiftly down the bayou. He made a landing in front of Godfrey Evans’s cabin, and leaving his companion there, started for home after a horse and wagon; for Lester declared that he could not possibly ride on horseback. Bob returned at the end of an hour, and having placed his friend in a comfortable position, on a pile of straw on the bottom of the wagon, mounted to the seat and drove off. He was obliged to drive very slowly, and another hour passed before he turned into the carriage-way that led up to Mr. Brigham’s residence.
Great was the consternation in that house when Lester was carried, limp and helpless, up the steps that led to the porch; great was the surprise depicted upon every countenance when it became known that the two boys had passed through the most desperate bear fight that had ever been heard of, and many were the words of praise that Bob received for the courage he had exhibited in saving the life of his friend. Mrs. Brigham, who believed every word of the ridiculous story, assured him that his heroic conduct should not be forgotten, and Bob, greatly pleased with this little stroke of policy, got into his wagon and drove home. When he had unharnessed the horse, he went into the house and found the family just sitting down to a late dinner.
“Why, Bob,” said Mr. Owens, as his eyes fell upon the boy’s torn and muddy clothing, “you look as though you had been somewhere.”
“I should say I had been somewhere,” replied Bob. “If I haven’t had a time this morning! Whew! it makes me tremble to think of it. I’ll tell you all about it in a few minutes.”
Bob went to his room to dress for dinner, and, when he came back and had taken his seat at the table, he began and related the particulars of the fright on Bruin’s Island, just as he and Lester had agreed. Mr. Owens looked incredulous, and stared at Bob so fixedly that the boy was obliged to drop his eyes and look down at his plate. “It’s a fact,” said he, stoutly. “You just ask Lester the next time you see him. He is all battered and bruised, and I have just helped to put him to bed.”