The Dog Crusoe and His Master: A Story of Adventure in the Western Prairies

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER XVII.

  _Dick's first fight with a grizzly_--_Adventure with a deer_--_Asurprise_.

  There is no animal in all the land so terrible and dangerous as thegrizzly bear. Not only is he the largest of the species in America,but he is the fiercest, the strongest, and the most tenacious oflife--facts which are so well understood that few of the westernhunters like to meet him single-handed, unless they happen to befirst-rate shots; and the Indians deem the encounter so dangerous thatto wear a collar composed of the claws of a grizzly bear of his ownkilling is counted one of the highest honours to which a young warriorcan attain.

  The grizzly bear resembles the brown bear of Europe, but it is larger,and the hair is long, the points being of a paler shade. About thehead there is a considerable mixture of gray hair, giving it the"grizzly" appearance from which it derives its name. The claws aredirty white, arched, and very long, and so strong that when the animalstrikes with its paw they cut like a chisel. These claws are notembedded in the paw, as is the case with the cat, but always projectfar beyond the hair, thus giving to the foot a very ungainlyappearance. They are not sufficiently curved to enable the grizzlybear to climb trees, like the black and brown bears; and thisinability on their part is often the only hope of the pursued hunter,who, if he succeeds in ascending a tree, is safe, for the time atleast, from the bear's assaults. But "Caleb" is a patient creature,and will often wait at the foot of the tree for many hours for hisvictim.

  The average length of his body is about nine feet, but he sometimesattains to a still larger growth. Caleb is more carnivorous in hishabits than other bears; but, like them, he does not object to indulgeoccasionally in vegetable diet, being partial to the bird-cherry, thechoke-berry, and various shrubs. He has a sweet tooth, too, and revelsin honey--when he can get it.

  The instant the grizzly bear beheld Dick Varley standing in his path,he rose on his hind legs and made a loud hissing noise, like a manbreathing quick, but much harsher. To this Crusoe replied by a deepgrowl, and showing the utmost extent of his teeth, gums and all; andDick cocked both barrels of his rifle.

  To say that Dick Varley felt no fear would be simply to make him outthat sort of hero which does not exist in nature--namely, a _perfect_hero. He _did_ feel a sensation as if his bowels had suddenly meltedinto water! Let not our reader think the worse of Dick for this. Thereis not a man living who, having met with a huge grizzly bear for thefirst time in his life in a wild, solitary place, all alone, hasnot experienced some such sensation. There was no cowardice in thisfeeling.

  Fear is not cowardice. Acting in a wrong and contemptible mannerbecause of our fear is cowardice.

  It is said that Wellington or Napoleon, we forget which, once stoodwatching the muster of the men who were to form the forlorn-hope instorming a citadel. There were many brave, strong, stalwart men there,in the prime of life, and flushed with the blood of high health andcourage. There were also there a few stern-browed men of riper years,who stood perfectly silent, with lips compressed, and as pale asdeath. "Yonder veterans," said the general, pointing to thesesoldiers, "are men whose courage I can depend on; they _know_ whatthey are going to, the others _don't!_" Yes, these young soldiers_very probably_ were brave; the others _certainly_ were.

  Dick Varley stood for a few seconds as if thunderstruck, while thebear stood hissing at him. Then the liquefaction of his interiorceased, and he felt a glow of fire gush through his veins. Now Dickknew well enough that to fly from a grizzly bear was the sure andcertain way of being torn to pieces, as when taken thus by surprisethey almost invariably follow a retreating enemy. He also knew thatif he stood where he was, perfectly still, the bear would getuncomfortable under his stare, and would retreat from him. But heneither intended to run away himself nor to allow the bear to do so;he intended to kill it, so he raised his rifle quickly, "drew a bead,"as the hunters express it, on the bear's heart, and fired.

  It immediately dropped on its fore legs and rushed at him. "Back,Crusoe! out of the way, pup!" shouted Dick, as his favourite was aboutto spring forward.

  The dog retired, and Dick leaped behind a tree. As the bear passed hegave it the contents of the second barrel behind the shoulder, whichbrought it down; but in another moment it rose and again rushed athim. Dick had no time to load, neither had he time to spring up thethick tree beside which he stood, and the rocky nature of the groundout of which it grew rendered it impossible to dodge round it. Hisonly resource was flight; but where was he to fly to? If he ran alongthe open track, the bear would overtake him in a few seconds. On theright was a sheer precipice one hundred feet high; on the left was animpenetrable thicket. In despair he thought for an instant of clubbinghis rifle and meeting the monster in close conflict; but the utterhopelessness of such an effort was too apparent to be entertained fora moment. He glanced up at the overhanging cliffs. There were one ortwo rents and projections close above him. In the twinkling of an eyehe sprang up and grasped a ledge of about an inch broad, ten or twelvefeet up, to which he clung while he glanced upward. Another projectionwas within reach; he gained it, and in a few seconds he stood upon aledge about twenty feet up the cliff, where he had just room to planthis feet firmly.

  Without waiting to look behind, he seized his powder-horn and loadedone barrel of his rifle; and well was it for him that his earlytraining had fitted him to do this with rapidity, for the bear dashedup the precipice after him at once. The first time it missed its hold,and fell back with a savage growl; but on the second attempt it sunkits long claws into the fissures between the rocks, and ascendedsteadily till within a foot of the place where Dick stood.

  At this moment Crusoe's obedience gave way before a sense of Dick'sdanger. Uttering one of his lion-like roars, he rushed up theprecipice with such violence that, although naturally unable to climb,he reached and seized the bear's flank, despite his master's sternorder to "keep back," and in a moment the two rolled down the face ofthe rock together, just as Dick completed loading.

  Knowing that one stroke of the bear's paw would be certain death tohis poor dog, Dick leaped from his perch, and with one bound reachedthe ground at the same moment with the struggling animals, and closebeside them, and, before they had ceased rolling, he placed the muzzleof his rifle into the bear's ear, and blew out its brains.

  Crusoe, strange to say, escaped with only one scratch on the side. Itwas a deep one, but not dangerous, and gave him but little pain at thetime, although it caused him many a smart for some weeks after.

  Thus happily ended Dick's first encounter with a grizzly bear; andalthough, in the course of his wild life, he shot many specimens of"Caleb," he used to say that "he an' pup were never so near goin'under as on the day he dropped _that_ bar!"

  Having refreshed himself with a long draught from a neighbouringrivulet, and washed Crusoe's wound, Dick skinned the bear on the spot."We chawed him up that time, didn't we, pup?" said Dick, with a smileof satisfaction, as he surveyed his prize.

  Crusoe looked up and assented to this.

  "Gave us a hard tussle, though; very nigh sent us both under, didn'the, pup?"

  Crusoe agreed entirely, and, as if the remark reminded him ofhonourable scars, he licked his wound.

  "Ah, pup!" cried Dick, sympathetically, "does't hurt ye, eh, poordog?"

  Hurt him? such a question! No, he should think not; better ask if thatleap from the precipice hurt yourself.

  So Crusoe might have said, but he didn't; he took no notice of theremark whatever.

  "We'll cut him up now, pup," continued Dick. "The skin'll make asplendid bed for you an' me o' nights, and a saddle for Charlie."

  Dick cut out all the claws of the bear by the roots, and spent theremainder of that night in cleaning them and stringing them on a stripof leather to form a necklace. Independently of the value of theseenormous claws (the largest as long as a man's middle finger) as anevidence of prowess, they formed a remarkably graceful collar, whichDick wore round his neck ever after with as much pride as if he hadbeen a Pawnee warrior. />
  When it was finished he held it out at arm's-length, and said,"Crusoe, my pup, ain't ye proud of it? I'll tell ye what it is, pup,the next time you an' I floor Caleb, I'll put the claws round _your_neck, an' make ye wear em ever arter, so I will."

  The dog did not seem quite to appreciate this piece of prospectivegood fortune. Vanity had no place in his honest breast, and, sooth tosay, it had not a large place in that of his master either, as we maywell grant when we consider that this first display of it was on theoccasion of his hunter's soul having at last realized its brightestday-dream.

  Dick's dangers and triumphs seemed to accumulate on him rather thicklyat this place, for on the very next day he had a narrow escape ofbeing killed by a deer. The way of it was this.

  Having run short of meat, and not being particularly fond of grizzlybear steak, he shouldered his rifle and sallied forth in quest ofgame, accompanied by Crusoe, whose frequent glances towards hiswounded side showed that, whatever may have been the case the daybefore, it "hurt" him now.

  They had not gone far when they came on the track of a deer in thesnow, and followed it up till they spied a magnificent buck aboutthree hundred yards off, standing in a level patch of ground which waseverywhere surrounded either by rocks or thicket. It was a long shot,but as the nature of the ground rendered it impossible for Dick to getnearer without being seen, he fired, and wounded the buck so badlythat he came up with it in a few minutes. The snow had drifted in theplace where it stood bolt upright, ready for a spring, so Dick wentround a little way, Crusoe following, till he was in a proper positionto fire again. Just as he pulled the trigger, Crusoe gave a howlbehind him and disturbed his aim, so that he feared he had missed; butthe deer fell, and he hurried towards it. On coming up, however,the buck sprang to its legs, rushed at him with its hair bristling,knocked him down in the snow, and deliberately commenced stamping himto death.

  Dick was stunned for a moment, and lay quite still, so the deer leftoff pommelling him, and stood looking at him. But the instant he movedit plunged at him again and gave him another pounding, until he wascontent to lie still. This was done several times, and Dick felt hisstrength going fast. He was surprised that Crusoe did not come to hisrescue, and once he cleared his mouth and whistled to him; but as thedeer gave him another pounding for this, he didn't attempt it again.He now for the first time bethought him of his knife, and quietly drewit from his belt; but the deer observed the motion, and was on himagain in a moment. Dick, however, sprang up on his left elbow, andmaking several desperate thrusts upward, succeeded in stabbing theanimal to the heart.

  Rising and shaking the snow from his garments, he whistled loudly toCrusoe, and, on listening, heard him whining piteously. He hurriedto the place whence the sound came, and found that the poor doghad fallen into a deep pit or crevice in the rocks, which had beenconcealed from view by a crust of snow, and he was now making franticbut unavailing efforts to leap out.

  Dick soon freed him from his prison by means of his belt, which helet down for the dog to grasp, and then returned to camp with as muchdeer-meat as he could carry. Dear meat it certainly was to him, forit had nearly cost him his life, and left him all black and bluefor weeks after. Happily no bones were broken, so the incident onlyconfined him a day to his encampment.

  Soon after this the snow fell thicker than ever, and it becameevident that an unusually early winter was about to set in among themountains. This was a terrible calamity, for if the regular snow ofwinter set in, it would be impossible for him either to advance orretreat.

  While he was sitting on his bearskin by the camp-fire one day,thinking anxiously what he should do, and feeling that he must eithermake the attempt to escape or perish miserably in that secluded spot,a strange, unwonted sound struck upon his ear, and caused both himand Crusoe to spring violently to their feet and listen. Could he bedreaming?--it seemed like the sound of human voices. For a moment hestood with his eyes rivetted on the ground, his lips apart, and hisnostrils distended, as he listened with the utmost intensity. Then hedarted out and bounded round the edge of a rock which concealedan extensive but narrow valley from his view, and there, to hisamazement, he beheld a band of about a hundred human beings advancingon horseback slowly through the snow.