The rancher knew easily enough how it could be done. He even volunteered to be the one who should drop down and secure the pelt of the dead bear. It was finally arranged, however, that Buckskin should do this business while Mr. Witherspoon performed the same kind of operation in connection with the first victim.
“Just to think of bagging two bears on the same afternoon!” exclaimed the proud Andy, as he danced around, trying the best he knew how to get some sort of picture of his own prize, for the cowboy loudly declared that it must have been a bullet from Andy’s gun that did the business.
“It’s so dark and gloomy down there, you see,” he complained, as Buckskin hunted for a way to clamber down. “If only I had thought to fetch along one of my flash-light cartridges now, I could do it; or have him take me standing with my foot on the prize, and my trusty gun in my hands. But that’s all off.”
“What’s to hinder me taking you in that position with the other bear?” ventured Frank; “we could slew it around a little, so that it wouldn’t look the same as in the first picture; and having two skins would prove that we got that many bears.” So Andy finally consented to pose, and accordingly had his picture taken in the conventional attitude of saying: “Look what a big hunter I am?”
It required considerable time to remove the two hides; but then cowboys know how to go about it, and Mr. Witherspoon was also handy with the hunting knife; so that in the end it was accomplished.
As the afternoon was still pretty warm, they decided to rest again. At the request of Andy the puncher got several pieces of wood that might be made to serve in lieu of torches; and with these they explored the interior of the bear’s den. There was quite a heap of bones inside the hole, and once more Andy deplored his want of forethought in not providing himself with a number of those convenient flash-light affairs, by means of which interiors may be photographed so well.
“You don’t find me ever going anywhere with my old kodak, without thinking about having a light along,” he complained. “Just when you think you won’t need such a thing, the greatest chance you ever saw happens along and makes you feel sick. Why, I don’t know what I wouldn’t give to have a chance to take a picture of a real bear’s den like that.” Buckskin thereupon consoled him with the promise to ride over another day, amply provided with all the necessaries, if it so be Mr. Witherspoon allowed to let him off, which the generous ranchman readily agreed to do, because he would have consented to almost anything if it would add to the pleasure of this nephew in whom he was taking such unusual interest.
When the sun had dropped low enough so that its heat was not depressing, they started back home, taking things easily by the way.
Their mounts had been rested, and besides, knew which way they were now heading, and could be depended on to keep doggedly at work, without any “sojering,” or trying to “play lame,” as some smart cow ponies have been known to do when not in the humor for work.
The moon gave them light when night came on, and by ten o’clock they reached the ranch buildings. Expecting them at about this time, Charley Woo had a splendid supper all ready, to which the tired boys did ample justice.