by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER VII A STRANGE BATTLE
Shortly after noon of that same day a slim, bright-eyed man in a hugebeaver overcoat drove up to the Lawson cabin. Johnny and Lawrence, whowere about to go back to their wood cutting, stared at him.
"Hello, boys," was his surprising greeting. "I hear you bring 'em backalive."
"Why, yes, we--Sometimes we do," Johnny replied in confusion.
"Blackie Dawson told me about you."
"Oh, Blackie." Johnny's face brightened.
"I am in the animal business," the man explained, alighting from hishired sled and allowing Lawrence to lead his horse away. "I thought youboys might help me a little."
"Help you? Oh, sure!" Things were looking better and better. "Here'swhere we get a start," Johnny was thinking.
"What have you?" the man asked.
"Well, er--mister--"
"They call me Professor Ormsby," said the stranger. "You may call me whatyou please."
"Well, then, Professor," Johnny went on, "we have a silver fox, aperfectly keen fox."
"Caught in a trap, I suppose?"
"No. By hand."
"By hand!" The Professor stared. "How do you do it?"
Johnny told him in as few words as possible and with no dramatics at all,just how it was done.
"Oh, I say!" the Professor exclaimed. "That's great! You took a chancewith that fox. But, let me see--No-o, I can't use a silver fox. How aboutbeavers?"
"We haven't taken any beaver. We--well, we were afraid it might beagainst the law even to catch them alive."
"I have a government permit," said the Professor. "But if you haven't anybeaver--"
"Catching beaver would be easy. We have a grand colony not three milesaway," Lawrence put in. "We might--"
"How about mink?" Johnny asked. "We have some fine ones. Or snow-shoerabbits?"
"I suggest that you eat the rabbits," the Professor laughed. "I'll have alook at your mink. But beaver! There's your main chance. Can't you get mesome? Big ones, the bigger the better.
"You see," he smiled, "we think we're really doing good through thiswork. In the big cities, hot in summer and cold in winter and crowdedalways, there are hundreds of thousands of children who would never knowwhat a woodchuck, a monkey, a beaver or a bear looked like if they didn'tsee them in a zoo. Brings real joy to them, I'm sure. Many's the fellowwho dates his first real interest in the wide out-of-doors to his visitat the zoo."
"Yes, I--" Johnny had scarcely heard him. "Could we do it?" he was askinghimself. He was thinking of beaver. "Why not? Thousands and thousands ofcity children." His head was in a whirl.
"I think," he tried to make his voice seem very cheerful, "I think we cansupply the beaver. Can't we, Lawrence?"
"What? Yes. Oh, yes," Lawrence replied.
"One of them must be a big one, a real boss of the village," warned theProfessor.
"We've got him," Johnny laughed uncertainly. "Napoleon himself."
"Yes. Oh, yes. We've got him, all right," Lawrence did not laugh.
Strangely enough, as a short time later the boys went away on one more"Bring 'em back alive hunt" there was no spring in their step. Theirfaces were sober. If they succeeded this one more time, the covetedtractor would be within their grasp, and yet they appeared anything buthappy.
"Might even get the Titan," Lawrence tried to tell himself. This boyloved fine machinery and that Titan tractor was a beauty. It had power,plenty of it. With it they could not only pull stumps and plow fields forthemselves, but do work for other settlers on shares and, in quiet times,they could work on the road. "Four live beavers," he thought. "That's allit takes." Yes, that was all it took, and yet--
Up a small stream that flows into the Matanuska River early in the yearthe boys had discovered a beaver colony. Many an hour they had spentwatching these busy beavers. Never in all their lives had they seen suchfeats of engineering done by creatures of the wild.
There were at least sixty beavers in the group. One big fellow, weighingsixty pounds or more, was the leader. He was the boss contractor. Andsuch a boss as he was!
"Napoleon," they had named him. He stood for hours, as the great littlegeneral is pictured, straight, stiff and soldier-like. To him came theothers. Were there trees to be felled? Two lieutenants came marchingsoberly up to him. They talked earnestly, nodding their heads, like realpeople, then off they rushed to start a dozen beavers doing the work.
It was so in everything. Most interesting of all had been the building ofthe big dam. This work, the boys understood, must be rushed. Winter wouldcome. Ice would freeze two feet thick. The level of the stream must beraised to six feet so the beaver tribe could use the water beneath as ahighway all winter long. The water must be dammed up.
This dam building, done under the wise direction of old Napoleon, hadprogressed rapidly for a time, then a sudden freshet of water loosenedsome of the beams and the whole affair threatened to go down stream.
"What'll they do now?" Lawrence had asked.
"Wait and see," was Johnny's answer.
Old Napoleon sent his men, like sub-engineers, all over the dam, making astudy of conditions. Then, apparently abandoning all this work, heordered a new dam built a hundred feet farther down stream.
But did he truly abandon his first work? Not a bit of it. He and his crewbuilt just enough of a dam below to raise the water and relieve thepressure from the original dam. Then, with an air of professional pride,Napoleon returned to his old post and the work was well completed beforefrost.
"He," Johnny thought to himself, "is the friend we mean to capture andsell into slavery, Old Napoleon." Little wonder that his heart was heavy."Old Napoleon," he whispered once again.
But what was this? As they neared the beaver colony where they were sureto find Napoleon out sunning himself, they caught sight of some creatureskulking through the brush.
"It's a wolf," Johnny whispered. "Let's follow him."
Follow him they did, and to their consternation saw that he was headedfor the beaver colony.
"We'd better frighten him away," Lawrence whispered. "He'll drive all thebeavers beneath the ice. Then we won't be able to lasso a single one."
This, Johnny knew, was good advice, but for some reason scarcely known tohimself, he said, "Let's wait."
When at last they caught sight of the beaver village, they saw oldNapoleon standing stiff and straight as ever in his place. He was havinga sun bath.
After sneaking along through the brush, the wolf made a dash at thebeaver.
"He'll kill him," Lawrence whispered.
Did he? Strange to say, as the wolf came near, the beaver did not stirfrom his place. This appeared to surprise the wolf, who did not at oncerush in for the kill. Sneaking up close, he made a dash at the beaver,but stopped just short of his goal. Still the beaver did not move. To theboys this seemed strange. Their respect for the old fellow grew by leapsand bounds. He appeared to be saying, "What's a wolf that one should fearhim?"
"He--he's great!" Johnny shrilled.
"Magnificent," Lawrence agreed.
Snarling low, the wolf began dashing and snapping at the beaver. Eachsnap made him bolder. Now his ugly jaws were three feet from theapparently defenseless hero of wild life, who had decided to give hislife for his home and his people. Now he was only two feet away. And nowonly a foot.
"We--we'd better step in," came from Lawrence.
"Wait," Johnny gripped his arm hard. Perhaps he should stop the wolf, buthe waited, fascinated.
"Now!" Lawrence caught his breath. The end, he was sure, had come.
And then, of a sudden, things did happen, but not in accord withexpectations. Old Napoleon had chisel-shaped teeth that cut wood like ahatchet. Without a sound, as the wolf, having grown bold, snapped in hisvery face, he shot forward to close those murderous teeth over the wolf'sclosed jaws.
"Great Scott!" Johnny muttered.
The struggle that followed was fast and furious
. Kicking and scratching,the wolf rolled over and over, but not once did Napoleon's locked griploosen. It was only when his opponent, completely exhausted and all butsmothered, lay limp at his side, that he at last pried his own jaws apartto climb awkwardly to his place in the sun. Instantly the wolf draggedhimself to his feet, to go slinking away into the brush.
For one full minute the boys stood there motionless. When Lawrence spokehis voice was husky. "Johnny, I've often suspected old Napoleon of beinga tyrant. He's lazy, too. I've never seen him do a lick of work. But heis one swell engineer and a grand boss."
"What's more, he's no coward," Johnny added.
"Johnny, I can't do it," Lawrence dangled his lasso.
"Neither can I," said Johnny. "Let's go."
Turning, they made their way in silence down the narrow stream to itsmouth. There they dropped down upon the snow to put on their skates.
"Johnny," said Lawrence, "we're a pair of old softies."
"That's right," said Johnny. "But I don't mind, do you?"
"Not a bit. Let's go."
"Get 'em?" the Professor asked as they came stamping into the cabin.
"No--er, well, no we didn't," Johnny stammered.
"How come?" the man's face sobered. "That was your big moment."
Sensing the tenseness of the situation, Mrs. Lawson said, "The coffee'shot. I have some spice cookies, just out of the oven. How would you likea bite to eat?"
"That--that would be splendid!" said the Professor.
When, over their cups of coffee, the boys had told the whole story, therewas a strange look on the Professor's face as he said, "Can't say that Iblame you. Under the circumstances I should have done the same thing. Weshall be obliged to get our beaver some other way. And as for yourtractor--"
"We--we'll manage," Lawrence replied slowly. Then, "By the way,Professor. You must know about bears. Are there any light blue bears?"
"Blue bears? Let me think! Oh, certainly! They belong up this way, too.Very rare they are, though."
"Blue bears!" Lawrence became greatly excited. "Small blue bears, nolarger than a good-sized dog, with woolly hair? They--they live on fish?"
"What?" It was the Professor's turn to become excited. "You haven't seenone? You--you couldn't catch one for me, could you?"
"Sure--sure," Lawrence stammered. "No, I mean we haven't. That is, wecould, I--I'm sure we could."
"If you were to bring me one of those bears alive and in good condition,"the Professor spoke in a deeply solemn voice, "you might name your ownprice. Glacier bears, they are called. There is a stuffed specimen in theUnited States National Museum, but not a single living specimen incaptivity anywhere."
"We--we'll hunt up Smokey Joe tomorrow," Johnny said. "He's seen them. Hecan tell us where they are. In fact, he told us all about them, only Ithought it was all hooey."
"Smokey Joe? Who is that?" the Professor asked.
"An old prospector," Johnny explained. "He's been all over this country."
"In that case," said the Professor, "much as I should like a glacierbear, I suggest that you postpone your search until late spring. Thoserare creatures inhabit the wildest sort of country, rocks, cliffs andglaciers. They are worse than mountain goats. You would almost certainlyperish. And besides, it is fairly certain that they, like most others oftheir kind, hibernate. And so--"
"So another bubble bursts," Johnny groaned.
"Don't be too pessimistic," the Professor smiled. "I shall hope to hearfrom you sometime in June or early July. A single specimen will do.
"And, by the way," he added as he rose, "I've decided to offer you ahundred dollars for your silver fox. That may not seem such a good price,but is really above the market."
"Sold! Sold!" the boys exclaimed in unison. And so it was that the boyscollected their first real money. They were, however, still a long wayfrom their goal.
