“Good for you, my boy!” exclaimed the rancher, evidently well pleased at this evidence of alertness on the part of his charge. “Yes, that came from the hide of a Mountain Charlie, as they call them out in California. You can see how coarse it is. Keep it as a memento; but I certain sure hope you’ll get the real thing before we gallop back for our supper late tonight.”
“How about him rushing out and surprising us, Uncle?” asked Andy. “Perhaps the old fellow mightn’t like to have company dropping in on him without an invite. And then, you see, I wouldn’t have any focus at all, which would spoil my picture.”
“No need of worrying about that, my lad,” said the rancher. “He’s lying in there as snug as you please, with his stomach full of that juicy heifer; and it’ll be a hard proposition for us to coax him to consent to an interview at all. Chances are, Buckskin’ll have to smoke the old villain out. That sometimes happens. But we might as well begin to make all our arrangements, looking to getting that picture at the right focus; and also placing that little defile between us and the bear when he does come out, mad as hops at being treated to a smoke.”
He had apparently already figured it all out in his own mind and made the necessary arrangements; for he led them across a deep little defile that happened to lie between the bear’s den and a flat stretch of rock, just fifty paces away.
From this spot a splendid view could be had of the yawning crevice at the base of the cliff. And Andy was delighted to see that for the next hour the sun would be favorable to his work of securing a good exposure, given the subject.
“Got your focus all right, have you?” asked the rancher, when he heard Andy give a grunt as of satisfaction.
“Yes,” Andy went on to say, smilingly, “everything stands out as clear as a bell; and I think I ought to make a boss picture of this; that is, if I don’t go and foozle, because of stage fright, when the old rascal comes roaring out to ask what we want. You won’t shoot in too big a hurry, I hope; give me time to snap off a couple, for fear one might be spoiled. These sort of chances come only once in a life time you know; and ought to be doubled up, to make sure.”
“Well, if we’re all ready here, perhaps you’d better get busy, Buckskin, and see if you can bring him out with a few cowboy yells. If that fails, then there’s some wood over yonder you can use; and I notice that you grabbed up some stink-weed as you came along, which will fetch him dead sure, when it gets to smouldering. Sometimes I even think it would bring a dead man to life, it’s that powerful. We’ll leave this little log across the gully, just as we used it to cross on; when you jump over for keeps give the same a kick; and that’ll put a gap between, the old man can’t cross in a hurry, if so be he fails to drop under our fire.”
Accordingly Buckskin trailing his gun along after him, crossed on the aforesaid log that served as a bridge over the gully, and went about his business of trying to coax the occupant of the rocky bear’s den to come out, with just as much indifference as though he were obeying the call of the range to dinner, when the cook pounded on a big frying pan with a basting spoon.
And standing there, the boys and Mr. Witherspoon awaited developments with varied emotions.