“For maybe thirty seconds we jest stared. Then, I kind o’ got a holt of myself, an’ cursed myself good fer bein’ such a fool; an’ my blood got to runnin’ agin. I fell to studyin’ how the bear could have got there; an’ pretty soon I reckoned it out as how there must be a big ledge runnin’ down the cliff face, jest the other side o’ the wall o’ the pocket. An’ I hugged myself to think I hadn’t managed to climb ’round on to that ledge jest before the bear arrived. I got this all figgered out, an’ it took some time. 282 But still that face, hangin’ out there over the height, kept starin’ at me; an’ I never saw a wickeder look than it had on to it, steady an’ unwinkin’ as a nightmare. It is curious how long a beast kin look at one without winkin’. At last, it got on to my nerves so I jest couldn’t stand it; an’ snatching a bunch of weeds (I’d already flung away all the loose dirt, flingin’ it at the rattler), I whipped ’em across them devilish leetle eyes as hard as I could. It was a kind of a child’s trick, or a woman’s, but it worked all right, fer it made the eyes blink. That proved they were real eyes, an’ I felt easier. After all, it was only a bear; an’ he couldn’t git any closer than he was. But that was a mite too close, an’ I wished he’d move. An’ jest then, not to be gittin’ too easy in my mind, I remembered the rattler.
“Another cold chill down my backbone! I looked ’round right smart. But the rattler wasn’t anywhere in sight. That, however, put me in mind of what I’d been goin’ to do to him. A boot wasn’t much of a weapon agin a bear, but it was the only thing handy, so I reckoned I’d have to make it do. I yanked it off, took it by the toe, an’ let that wicked face have the heel of it as hard as I could. I hadn’t any room to swing, so I couldn’t hit very hard. But 283 a bear’s nose is tender, on the tip; an’ it was jest there, of course, I took care to land. There was a big snort, kind o’ surprised like, an’ the face disappeared.
“I felt a sight better.
“Fer maybe five minutes nothin’ else happened. I sat there figgerin’ how I was goin’ to git out o’ that hole; an’ my figgerin’ wasn’t anyways satisfactory. I knew the bear was a stayer, all right. There’d be no such a thing as tryin’ to crawl ’round that shoulder o’ rock till I was blame sure he wasn’t on t’other side; an’ how I was goin’ to find that out was more than I could git at. There was no such a thing as climbin’ up. There was no such a thing as climbin’ down. An’ as fer that leetle ledge an’ crevice leadin’ off to the right,—well, boys, when there’s a rattler layin’ low fer ye in a crevice, ye’re goin’ to keep clear o’ that crevice. It wanted a good three hours of sundown, an’ I knew my chaps wouldn’t be missin’ me before night. When I didn’t turn up for dinner, of course they’d begin to suspicion somethin’, because they knew I was takin’ things rather easy an’ not followin’ up any long trails. It looked like I was there fer the night; an’ I didn’t like it, I tell you. There wasn’t room to lay down, and if I fell asleep settin’ up, like as 284 not I’d roll off the ledge. There was nothing fer it but to set up a whoop an’ a yell every once in a while, in hopes that one or other of the boys might be cruisin’ ’round near enough to hear me. So I yelled some half a dozen times, stoppin’ between each yell to listen. Gittin’ no answer, at last I decided to save my throat a bit an try agin after a spell o’ restin’ an’ worryin’. Jest then I turned my head; an’ I forgot, right off, to worry about fallin’ off the ledge. There, pokin’ his ugly head out o’ the crevice, was the rattler. I chucked a bunch o’ weeds at him, an’ he drew back in agin. But the thing that jarred me now was, how would I keep him off when it got too dark fer me to see him. He’d be slippin’ home quiet like, thinkin’ maybe I was gone, an’ mad when he found I wasn’t, fer, ye see, he hadn’t no means of knowin’ that I couldn’t go up the rock jest as easy as I come down. I feared there was goin’ to be trouble after dark. An’ while I was figgerin’ on that till the sweat come out on my forehead, I turned agin, an’ there agin was the bear’s face starin’ round the rock not more’n a foot away.
“You’ll understand how my nerves was on the jumps, when I tell you, boys, that I was scared an’ startled all over again, like the first time I’d 285 seen it. With a yell, I fetched a swipe at it with my boot; but it was gone, like a shadow, before I hit it; an’ the boot flew out o’ my hand an’ went over the cliff, an’ me pretty nigh after it. I jest caught myself, an’ hung on, kind o’ shaky, fer a minute. Next thing, I heard a great scratchin’ at the other side o’ the rock, as if the brute was tryin’ to git a better toehold an’ work some new dodge on me. Then the face appeared agin, an’ maybe, though perhaps that was jest my excited imagination, it was some two or three inches closer this time.
“I lit out at it with my fist, not havin’ my other boot handy. But Lord, a bear kin dodge the sharpest boxer. That face jest wasn’t there, before I could hit it. Then, five seconds more, an’ it was back agin starin’ at me. I wouldn’t give it the satisfaction o’ tryin’ to swipe it agin, so I jest kept still, pretendin’ to ignore it; an’ in a minute or two it disappeared. But then, a minute or two more an’ it was back agin. An’ so it went on, disappearin’, comin’ back, goin’ away, comin’ back, an’ always jest when I wasn’t expectin’ it, an’ always sudden an’ quick as a shadow, till that kind o’ got on to my nerves too, an’ I wished he’d stay one way or t’other, so as I could know what I was up against. At last, settlin’ 286 down as small as I could, I made up my mind I jest wouldn’t look that way at all, face or no face, but give all my attention to watchin’ for the rattler, an’ yellin’ fer the boys. Judgin’ by the sun,—which went mighty slow that day,—I kept that game up for an hour or more; an’ then, as the rattler didn’t come any more than the boys, I got tired of it, an’ looked ’round for the bear’s face. Well, that time it wasn’t there. But in place of it was a big brown paw, reachin’ round the edge of the rock all by itself, an’ clawin’ quietly within about a foot o’ my ear. That was all the farthest it would reach, however, so I tried jest to keep my mind off it. In a minute or two it disappeared; an’ then back come the face.
“I didn’t like it. I preferred the paw. But then, it kept the situation from gittin’ monotonous.
“I suppose it was about this time the bear remembered somethin’ that wanted seein’ to down the valley. The face disappeared once more, and this time it didn’t come back. After I hadn’t seen it fer a half-hour, I began to think maybe it had really gone away; but I knew how foxy a bear could be, an’ thought jest as like as not he was waitin’, patient as a cat, on the other side o’ the rock fer me to look round 287 so’s he could git a swipe at me that would jest wipe my face clean off. I didn’t try to look round. But I kept yellin’ every little while; an’ all at once a voice answered right over my head. I tell you it sounded good, if ’twasn’t much of a voice. It was Steevens, my packer, lookin’ down at me.
“‘Hello, what in h–– are ye doin’ down there, Job?’ he demanded.
“‘Waiting fer you to git a rope an’ hoist me up!’ says I. ‘But look out fer the bear!’