Sure enough, that day, to the delight of the boys, another thaw came and the sap ran as it never had done before and kept them jumping well to save it all.
"One of us will have to stay awake and tend fires and watch to-night. We can't finish up anyhow, and we can't afford to waste all this sap. I'll boil all night," said Dick, tucking the embers in around the great kettle.
"You won't tend alone. If you stay up all night I shall too," said Joe stoutly. "Guess we're partners on this sugar making, ain't we?"
"Of course. Tell you what we will do: I'll tend till midnight, while you sleep, then you can work the rest of the night while I sleep," suggested Dick. To which his brother agreed willingly.
The boys ate their supper, boiling their eggs in sap, and finishing up with brown bread spread thickly with soft, new maple sugar. And oh, how fine it tasted to the two tired boys. Soon Joe was fast asleep in the shack upon his fragrant bed of balsam boughs, rolled up in an old patchwork quilt his mother had made him take, for it always grows bitterly cold in the mountains before morning. Dick grinned to himself, as he worked alone and heard Joe's tired snores coming from the shack, and he made up his mind to let him sleep after midnight and get well rested. He kept very busy himself tending the bubbling syrup in both kettles and bringing firewood. It was somewhat lonely off up there in the mountain, now there was no one to talk to, thought Joe to himself. The wind sighed and whined in the tops of the spruces. Occasionally he heard a mysterious crack upon the snow crusts, off in the woods, where some hoof or paw broke through. Finally, an old owl began its lonely hoot above the shack somewhere, and once he heard a long, whimpering yell, far across the valley. He knew what that meant; a lynx was abroad, venturing down into the clearings after a sheep perhaps. Joe looked back into the shack rather longingly after the lynx yelled; he was almost tempted to awaken Dick, but decided, unselfishly, not to.
At last, long after midnight, Joe himself began to feel extremely worn out and sleepy. A great stillness had settled over everything; even the wind seemed to soothe him to drowsiness, while the sap bubbled and blubbered softly and monotonously in the iron kettles. In spite of all he could do, Joe's tired eyes closed together, and, untended, the fires under the black kettles burned lower and lower.
Out beyond the camp, breaking through the snow crusts, unheard, stole a huge, black, shambling figure, closely followed by two smaller ones. A great black mother bear and her two very young cubs, and she was heading them straight for the boys' sugar camp. The cubs were so young they had difficulty in keeping up with their mother, for they were tired. It had been a long distance down from the den, but the mother bear did not spare them, and kept nosing them along impatiently when they halted along the trail. Now if there is one thing on earth a bear loves even more than honey it is maple sugar. The scent of the boiling syrup arose even above the woody, odours, and delicious enough it seemed to the old bear; she was eager to reach the camp.
At last the little trio came out into a small clearing surrounding the shack. The old bear halted, warily, but all was now silent. Inside the shack lay one boy fast asleep, rolled in his patchwork quilt, while half leaning against a tree slept another. The sugar had ceased to bubble and heave in the great kettles, for the fires were almost out. Between the kettles shuffled the old bear, followed by the cubs, whimpering wearily and crossly. The old bear arose upon her hind feet snuffing and grunting, but never offering to disturb the sleeping boys; all she cared about now was to find maple sugar. She was of monstrous size, and when she finally entered the shack, she completely filled up the rude doorway with her huge form. She nosed about, but did not find the stored sugar, so out she shambled, and cautiously approaching a great black kettle, she sniffed long and deliriously at its contents, blowing out the whitened ashes in clouds from the blackened embers with her breath. The cubs meantime seated themselves close by and watched her movements curiously.
Then the old bear did a very foolish thing. So eager was she to get a taste of the sugar in the kettle that she reached in with one great furry paw, burning it severely. She immediately lost her head, and in her rage upset the whole kettle full of hot syrup all over herself. Then there was something doing! With a terrific howl of pain and sudden terror, which made such a racket that the mountains fairly echoed back her cries, the old bear tore off into the woods in a perfect frenzy of agony, her heavy coat soaked with hot syrup, which burned its way deeper and deeper at every step. Without heeding the cubs, or what became of them, she ran wildly on, only seeking water where she might cool her burning flesh. As soon as Dick and Joe heard the first yell of the bear, they were wide awake, you may be sure. Joe saw the old bear just as she disappeared in the woods, and scared almost out of his wits he shouted:
"Hi, Dick, bears! Look! There goes one big as a house, and see, there's another one," pointing out one helpless, whimpering little cub which had been left behind by the old bear in her madness.