“Why, I remember hearing some sort of champing sound back of me, but I guess I must have thought you fellows were making it ashore. Anyway I never bothered paying the least bit of attention to the same but kept on fighting this musky here for all I was worth. Whew!”
“You pulled the fish in finally of course?” said Ethan as the other paused to wipe his streaming forehead for all it was so cold.
“Yes, with a great big yank,” Lub explained. “It kind of flew through the air a bit, and I turned at the same time to see that bear rear up on his hind legs and do his level best to grab the flying fish. When it fell to the ice he started for it, and that was when I managed to let off my first whoop for help.”
“Yes, I kind of thought you called out that word, but I wasn’t dead sure,” X-Ray told him; “but what next did you-all do, as our old friend Simon Blodgett down on the Coast would say?”
“What, me? I ran like everything, fell down, got on my feet again, and seeing the bear putting after me I kept agoing and awhooping for all I was worth.”
“Did you know he was after the fish, and not you?” asked Phil, secretly amused, though managing to keep a straight face.
“Why, yes, I got on to that wrinkle, all right,” replied the other, “because I could see him trying to fall on the fish every chance he had. But I objected to turning over my last catch to the old scoundrel; even if the line hadn’t gone and got fast to my leg I don’t believe I’d have let him have it, unless it came to nip and tuck with me.”
“Well, you have plenty of time to gather another lot of fish, Lub,” suggested Ethan; “and after all, your adventure has been the means of gaining us our first fresh meat in Canada. We paid enough for our licenses to hunt up here to want to get the worth of our good money.”
“And, Phil, don’t you think I’ve got a right to call him my bear?” asked Lub, as if struck with a sudden inspiration.
“What! after the two of us shot him?” ejaculated Ethan.