The Border Boys on the Trail

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XVII.

  THE TALE OF A MULE.

  "Jee-hos-o-phat, a grizzly!" yelled Pete, as he gazed at the quarter ofa ton of angry bruin, "and we've not got even a bean shooter."

  "That's what Maud was scared at," was the ridiculous thought,considering the circumstances, that came into Jack's mind. That Petehad thought the same thing was evidenced the next instant.

  "Say, if we'd only paid attention to Maud," he began, "we'd----"

  But a sudden interruption cut him short. The big log they had beentrying to dislodge was, as has been said, very delicately balanced.Already by placing their hands on it and rocking it testingly they haddisturbed its equilibrium. Now Pete, in his agitation, had placed afoot on it. Both feet, in fact, as he jumped backward at the sight ofthe huge bear.

  This was too much for the trunk. With a crash and a roar, andaccompanied by a mighty cascade of dust and rocks, it rolled down thesteep, shaly bank.

  A few moments before both Pete and Jack had longed above everythingelse to see the trunk spanning the break in the trail. Now, however,when it landed fair and square in the position desired, with its twoends resting on solid ground, the natural bridge it formed was the lastthing in the world they wanted to see.

  With the trail still open--that is, with the break still inexistence--they might have saved themselves from the bear, for it wasextremely unlikely that the creature could have found a foot-hold onthe loose shaly bank. Now that the bridge was in existence, however,things were altered, the bear could cross to them at will, even if theytook refuge on their own side of the gap.

  "Make for those trees," shouted Pete, pointing to a small clump ofscrubby firs that grew out of a pile of rock just above where Maud hadbeen tethered.

  Without a word Jack turned and made the best of his speed along thesteep, slippery incline to the spot indicated by the cow-puncher. Petewas close behind him.

  "Now climb," ordered Pete; "it's our only chance."

  As he spoke the grizzly, which had hesitated for a moment when thebridge came tumbling down, had perceived the easy means it afforded himof reaching his prey, and was cautiously testing it with his foot.

  "Wish the thing would give way and roll him down to kingdom come,"gritted out Pete, savagely.

  Both Pete and Jack in their haste had found refuge in the same tree,a small sapling fir, which bent perilously under their weight. Fromthis insecure perch they watched bruin testing the bridge cautiously.Finally having made up his mind it was safe the immense brute startedto lumber across it.

  "B-b-but," stammered Jack, "he'll get us in this tree, Pete. Grizzliescan climb."

  The boy was horribly frightened, and small blame can attach to himtherefor. Jack, as we have seen, was far from being a coward, but eventhe bravest of men might be pardoned for feeling alarm when caughtweaponless by a grizzly bear--one of the most savage, merciless foes ofman in the Western Hemisphere.

  "He can climb, all right," rejoined Pete, "but a grizzly is the mostcautious brute there is. He's quite smart enough to see that this treeoverhangs a steep slope that ends in a precipice, and he knows, too,that if too much weight is put on it we'll all go down together. Maybehe won't try to dislodge us. That's our only hope."

  "But even if he doesn't climb it he's liable to sit below till we comedown from hunger or drop from fatigue."

  "Well, that's a chance we've got to take," grunted Pete grimly.

  The grizzly seemed in no particular hurry to proceed. Having crossedthe bridge he leisurely sniffed about, only from time to time glancingup out of his little red eyes at the two figures in the flimsy fir tree.

  All this time Maud had been plunging about like a wild thing, but herrope held tight and she could not escape.

  "Poor critter," said Pete, as he watched her. "If we'd only taken herwarning we might have been out of here by now."

  "If we ever get out of this, I'll believe anything a mule tells me,"chimed in Jack miserably.

  The grizzly apparently made up his mind suddenly that it was time thatall delays were over. With the peculiar lumbering gait of these huge,but active, creatures, he rapidly made his way to the foot of thelittle fir and placed his fore paws on it. As Jack gazed downward atthe huge paws, armed with enormous claws, each as big and sharp as achilled steel chisel, he could not restrain a cry.

  "Steady, kid, steady," groaned Pete. "Oh, if only I had a rifle foryou, me haughty beauty, wouldn't I drill a nice hole in you."

  He shook his fist at the bear, which growled savagely back. But havingtested the tree, the bear, as Pete had expected, declined to riskhis weight on it. Instead he shook it a little in a vain attempt todislodge the two clinging occupants. Both man and boy hung on withgrim desperation, while a dreadful fear that the roots might give waygnawed at the heart of each.

  "How long will he stay there, do you think?" asked Jack, as thegrizzly, grumbling angrily to himself, sat down at the foot of thetree, for all the world like a huge cat patiently watching a mouse hole.

  "Dunno," grumbled Pete; "longer than we'll stay here, I guess."

  Suddenly the bear seemed to tire of inactivity. With a savage roar hesprang at the tree, which bent like a sapling under his tremendousweight. To Pete's horror he distinctly felt the trunk crack.

  "It's all off," he groaned aloud; "one more jump like that will finishus."

  "When the tree hits the ground you run," whispered Pete to Jack. Theboy nodded his head. He little dreamed what was in Pete's mind.

  The acute mind of the grizzly soon perceived that his attack on thetree had been effectual. Roaring with dreadful note that sent a chillto Jack's heart, he charged once more.

  There came a dreadful crashing, crackling, rending sound, and the smallsapling gave way.

  Like a stone from a catapult Jack felt himself strike the groundviolently.

  "Run, Jack, run!"

  It was the voice of Pete, but it came to Jack like a voice in a dream.Mingling with it came the triumphant roar of the grizzly.

  Bruised and shaken by his fall, the boy managed somehow to get to hisfeet and began running stumblingly forward. Suddenly he stopped. Whathad become of Pete?

  In the same instant his friend's unselfish bravery flashed across him.Pete meant to stay behind and deliberately sacrifice himself while Jackgot a chance to escape.

  Jack turned and began to run back.

  "Pete, Pete, you shan't do it!" he cried desperately.

  But even as he yelled he gave a shrill cry of mortal terror. The hugeblack form was upon the cow-puncher, and all Jack could see was itshuge, hairy arms as they shot out to envelope Pete in their grip.Over and over rolled the two, as the bear missed its footing on thetreacherous hillside and began toppling down toward the trail. In thispredicament it still gripped tight to its prey, however.

  Suddenly Jack gave another yell--a cry of exultation. An extraordinarything had happened.

  In its rolling plunge down the slope the bear had come within theradius of Maud's iron-shod hind hoofs. With a scream of mingled fearand mulelike defiance, those formidable weapons drove out as ifimpelled by steel springs.

  Ker-flo-p-p-p!

  Both of those terrible heels struck the grizzly fair and square in thetop of his ferocious head. With a howl of agony he dropped the man fromhis deadly grip, and with the blood streaming from the deadly woundwent tumbling and clawing in his death agony down the slope.

  Faster and faster he crashed downward, tearing out small bushes andtrees as he went under his huge weight. At last everything grew silent,and Jack looked over the edge of the gulch.

  At the bottom, half hidden among the avalanche of brush he had broughtwith him, lay the carcass of the huge grizzly--quite dead, it seemed,for when Jack hurled down a stone he never moved.

  At the same instant Pete sat up, a puzzled expression on his face.

  "Am I dead?" he inquired.

  "No, thanks to old Maud!" shouted Jack, joyously flinging his armsabout Pete and doing a war dance of exultation. "She's the bestone-e
ared mule in the world!"

  "That's right," agreed Pete solemnly, after he had been made acquaintedwith the happenings of the last few moments, for he had lostconsciousness in the bear's mighty hug.

  "And say, Pete," said Jack in a choky voice, "I understand what youdid, old man, and----"

  His voice broke, and tears came into his eyes as he thought of Pete'sact of self-sacrifice.

  "Aw blazes," said Pete, with a bit of a quaver in his own tones,"that's all right. But look at Maud, will you?"

  That intelligent animal, with her one ear cocked erect as if intriumph, had thrown back her head and opened her mouth.

  "Is she going to have a fit?" asked Jack.

  "Naw, she's going ter sing. Mules don't speak often, but when they do,they do it about something worth while. Hark!"

  He-haw-he-haw-he-haw-he-haw!

  Maud's song of triumph, as Pete had described it, went echoing up anddown the ca?on in the most discordant series of sounds known to the earof man. But if there had been a hundred Mexicans in earshot, neither ofthe two fugitives would have grudged Maud her vocal exercise, nor haveattempted to cut it short.

  As it was, however, the mule's pean of victory had evidently reachedother ears than those of Jack Merrill and Coyote Pete. They were stillpetting her and wishing for lumps of sugar and gold head stalls and allsorts of equine delicacies when both were startled by a gruff voiceaddressing them.

  "Hullo, strangers!"

  "Hullo yourself!" rejoined Pete, considerably surprised, and peeringabout him keenly.