Jack repeated the oft-quoted expression: “The heel of the woman shall bruise the serpent’s head,” and added: “I suppose nine persons out of every ten, when they see any kind of a snake, are seized with an impulse to kill it.”
“Even though many are harmless and useful.”
“I think the best use you can put a rattlesnake to is to blow him into smithereens, which is what I am going to do.”
As he spoke, Jack brought his Winchester to a level and sighted carefully at the pitted head of the serpent. He was deliberate, and did not press the trigger until sure his aim was accurate to a hair.
Fred kept his eye on that head. At the instant the sharp crack of the rifle rang out the frightful object vanished, and the long body broke into fierce writhings. Jack had clipped off the head as neatly as if with the blow of a scimitar, the bullet shattering the neck just below, and at its narrowest portion.
“That’s as well as I could have done myself,” commented Fred, as his friend lowered his weapon and watched the struggles of his victim, which quickly ceased, for, as has been said, the crotalus species is easily killed, and when one of them has been decapitated he cannot keep up appearances very long.
When it became certain the reptile was dead the boys drew near for a closer inspection. They counted the rattles, which were seventeen in number, proving the reptile of extraordinary size.
“We didn’t think to count those of the other,” said Fred, “but I am sure it was not so large as this.”
“No; but I wonder whether we are going to stumble over them at every step?”
“This is only the second one; we may not see another for a week.”
“I hope we shall not; but so long as they are kind enough to give us notice of their intentions we ought to be able to avoid their bites.”
It looked as if their experience of the previous day was to be repeated, for within a hundred yards from the spot an animal was discovered on a rock, a considerable distance above them. Fred was the first to see it, and exclaimed:
“There’s another buck, Jack! It’s your turn.”
But before Jack could bring his weapon to a level the animal saw them and was off like a flash. In fact they had no more than a glimpse of it—barely enough to see that it had no antlers, and probably was not a deer at all.
“It isn’t going to be as easy work as we thought,” said Fred; “I shouldn’t be surprised if we fail to get a shot today.”
“Well, we shall have the fun of tramping ourselves tired. It seems to me that when any sort of game shows itself it comes out in plain sight and is not scared up by us. Let’s sit down a while and watch things around us.”
This singular proposal was acted upon. After picking their way some distance further among the rocks they chose a seat, and then looked searchingly here and there at the different elevations and prominent points, in the hope of catching sight of some game which would give them a shot before dashing off with headlong haste.
“Right over that part of the mountain peak yonder,” said Jack, pointing at the place, “I saw the moon rise last night. I have watched it come out of the ocean many a time, but never saw anything so beautiful before.”
He described as best he could the impressive scene, while Fred listened, and for the first time felt regret that he had not been awakened that he, too, might have enjoyed the view.
When he had studied the mountain peak for some minutes, he raised his glass and surveyed it steadily for a while longer.
“I thought so,” he remarked; “turn your glass, Jack, in that direction.”
Jack did as requested, and saw to what his comrade referred. Perched on the highest portion was an immense gray-headed eagle. Sailing thither from the depths of space, he had paused for a while, with the grand view spread out before him, and what a view it must have been!
It was easy to identify the bird with the aid of their glasses, which were kept pointed for some time at him.
“I wonder whether he sees us?” said Fred.
“There can be no doubt of it, for their eyes detect the smallest object on a landscape. He is probably studying us with as much interest as we are watching him.”
“Our rifles couldn’t carry a ball half-way to him.”
“And what if they could? Would you wish to harm the emblem of our country?”
“No; unless he attacked us, which I don’t think is likely. Halloo!”
Just then the immense bird spread his wings and began skimming through the air with majestic grace. More than that, he was coming in the direction of the boys.
“I believe he means to make a meal off of us!” exclaimed Fred; “we would better be ready for him.”
“There’s nothing to be frightened at. If he intends to attack us we have only to wait until he is near, when we can puncture him.”
If the king of birds held any such intention he changed his mind. Swooping far across the intervening space, seemingly aiming straight at them, he suddenly changed his course, and, ascending high in the sky, swept around in a wide circle and finally disappeared over the peak where first seen.
The boys sat for a while in silence, gazing away in the distance, where the noble bird had vanished, half-expecting it to reappear and probably press its attack; but it had taken its flight for good and was seen no more.
“I wonder whether we would have done any better if we had brought a dog with us?” said Jack, beginning to feel a trifle discouraged over their failure to secure a shot at any game.
“I proposed bringing my dog, you remember, when we left home, but you thought we could do better out here. Hank and the rest of them don’t seem to place much value on the animals in hunting. Did you hear that?”
From some point not very far off came the report of a rifle, though whether it was the weapon of Hank Hazletine or one of the Indians that had been discharged, neither could guess.
“Somebody else is in luck, and I don’t see why we should not—”
Before Fred could finish his sentence both heard the rustling of bushes behind them. They turned on the instant, and saw a sight which held them transfixed, for never had they expected to view anything of the kind.
They had read and heard much of grizzly bears. They knew they grew to an enormous size, and are the most formidable animals found in the great West, but had they been told that there were such monsters as the one before them they could not have believed it had it been related by Hazletine himself.
To Jack and Fred he seemed fully four times the size of the largest black bear they had ever seen in any zoological garden. Had his legs been longer, Fred Greenwood would have pronounced him the equal of Jumbo himself.
Where this Colossus among beasts had come from it was impossible to say, but the terrifying fact was self-evident that he was advancing to attack the boys!
He must have caught sight of them as they sat on the rock with their backs toward him, and, angered at the intrusion, he was sweeping down upon them like a cyclone, furious and determined to crush them out of existence.
The gait of the animal was awkward, but speedier even than the youths suspected. He swung along with a swaying motion, and his claws, striking the flinty rocks as he passed over them, rattled like iron nails. His vast mouth was open, his long red tongue lolling out, and his white teeth gleaming. As if no element of terror was to be omitted he uttered a deep, cavernous growl at every step or two, while his comparatively small black eyes seemed to glow with a savage light, altogether foreign to the species.
All this was taken in at the first glance of the boys, who, petrified for one moment, realized in the next their fearful peril.
“There’s no time to shoot!” exclaimed Jack; “we must run!”
“But he can run faster than we!” replied Fred, who stood his ground long enough to bring his Winchester to his shoulder and let fly straight at the front of the beast. That he struck the bear was certain, but it served only to add to his towering rage, and he plunged forward without halt.
> Jack had made no attempt to fire, but was running at headlong speed. Fred was eager to thrust another cartridge into the chamber of his Winchester from the magazine, but to do so would detain him until old Ephraim was upon him, and even then it was not likely the bullet would stay or affect his attack.
Accordingly, instead of firing a second shot he whirled about and dashed after Jack, who was thus placed about a rod in advance. Although the ground was not favorable for running, it may be safely said that neither Jack Dudley nor Fred Greenwood ever gave such an exhibition of speed. They held fast to their rifles, for it looked as if the weapons were to be their final reliance.
Fred glanced over his shoulder to learn how he was making out in the race. With an awful sinking he saw that the grizzly was gaining fast upon him. Still he dared not pause long enough to fire, but redoubled his energies, only to catch his foot in a running vine and plunge forward on his face.
CHAPTER XII.
THE TUG OF WAR.
Jack Dudley, being some paces in advance of Fred Greenwood, and alarmed for him because of his greater peril, had slightly slackened his speed, for he was not the one to seek safety at the expense of his comrade. The instant he saw him fall he stopped short, and, wheeling about, fired at the grizzly, and pumping a second cartridge into the chamber of his Winchester, let fly again, both shots striking the beast, who was so close that a miss was impossible.
It need not be said that Fred, having pitched forward on his hands and knees, did not remain thus. No hunter, even if a youth, gives up so long as there is a fighting chance for life. He instantly leaped to his feet, and a couple of bounds placed him beyond reach, for the moment, of his terrible enemy.
The bear seemed to understand who had wounded him last, and, although closer to Fred than to his companion, he swerved to the left and headed for Jack Dudley. The latter did not stay on the order of his going, but made off at his highest speed. Brief as was the halt, it wrought a complete change of situation. Whereas Fred had been in the greatest danger, Jack was now thus placed, because the grizzly was closer to him. Not only that, but, ignoring the younger lad, he gave his whole attention to Jack.
Events were going with such a rush that the boys were almost overwhelmed before they could help themselves. Fred supposed the bear was at his heels until, having run a couple of rods, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the imminent peril of Jack. Then, with a thrill of alarm, he in his turn checked his flight, and bringing his Winchester to a level drove a bullet into the immense head of the brute, which by that time had received a respectable amount of lead in his carcass.
But “old Ephraim” seemed to have determined to dispose of the fugitives in the reverse order of their ages; that is to say, having changed his attentions to Jack Dudley, he did not mean to be diverted therefrom, even though the younger lad was showing disagreeable interest in him.
This peculiar turn of affairs gave Fred his favorable chance; and, standing motionless, he continued his miniature bombardment as fast as he could shove the cartridges into the chamber of his weapon, aim, and fire. Surely the bullets, all of which found a lodgment somewhere in the anatomy of the monster, must have produced an effect, but they could not divert him from his main purpose. He bore down upon the apparently doomed Jack Dudley as if he would not be denied.
This fact caused Fred to be thrown partly to the rear, so that the remarkable combat took the form of the grizzly pursuing one of the boys, while the other boy was pursuing the grizzly. The position of Fred, however, thus became unfavorable, for he was unable to aim at any vulnerable portion of the creature. He continued firing into his body, but the bullets produced no perceptible effect in this fight for life.
Meanwhile the situation of Jack Dudley became perilous to the last degree. To stop and fire insured his certain seizure by the grizzly, who would require but a moment to tear the life from him. Jack saw him so near, indeed, that he did that which no person would do except in the last extremity. He flung away his rifle, that it might not impede his flight, and concentrated all his energies into the one effort of running.
He had no time to look where he was going. He could only strive with the desperation of despair to preserve the distance between him and his pursuer, in the faint hope that something would intervene to save him. Fred was not only firing his gun as fast as he could, but he shouted to the bear, in the hope of diverting his attention from Jack, who could not keep up the unequal flight much longer.
The terrified fugitive leaped over boulders, dashed around interposing rocks, and bounded across open spaces, hardly daring to look over his shoulder, for he knew from the sounds of pursuit that the animal was at his heels. It seemed every moment as if the prodigious paw of the grizzly would smite him to the earth, when no human power could save him.
Suddenly the fugitive, while dashing forward in this blind, headlong fashion, found himself confronted by the canyon with which he and Fred had already had a memorable experience. It yawned at right angles to the course he was following, its width so great that it was impossible for him to leap it at that point. But he knew there must be some such place, and he continued his flight along the side of the chasm, hunting for a spot that would permit him to reach the other bank.
He did not stop to think how this could benefit him, for it was to be supposed that if the grizzly could outrun he could also outleap him, and the moment the fugitive landed on the further bank the brute would do the same, without losing an inch of the advantage already gained. In fact, Jack Dudley had no time to think of anything except to run with all the vigor which nature had given him.
All at once he saw a spot where the feat looked possible. There was no time for him to turn off to gain the momentum, but, measuring the interval with his eye, he gathered his muscles and leaped outward. The jump was diagonal, and made under most difficult circumstances.
Who shall describe the awful thrill that shot through Jack Dudley when, at the moment of leaving the rocky edge of the rocky wall, he was sure he was about to fail in his last effort? The other margin of the canyon wall appeared to recede, and he uttered a despairing cry, certain that the next instant he would go spinning down the frightful abyss.
It is at such critical times that the question of life and death is often decided by incidents so trifling that they are unnoticed. Had Jack Dudley retained his Winchester in his grasp he would have been lost. It would not have been alone the weight of the weapon, but its interference with the free use of his hands. As it was, the latter were untrammeled, and, though his feet missed a firm hold, he instinctively clutched the craggy projections, and, with a supreme effort, drew himself over the margin and beyond all danger of falling back into the canyon.
And where, all this time, was old Ephraim?
The remark just made concerning the effect of trifles was shown as strikingly in his case as in that of the fugitive. Despite his enormous weight and awkwardness of action, the grizzly without special exertion could have made the leap that had just been exhibited before his eyes had he been in his usual condition, but it has been shown that he had been struck by several bullets. Though most of these inflicted little more than flesh wounds, which under the circumstances were trifling, yet others did effective work. This was especially the case with those that found a lodgment in his head, which, big and tough as it was, lacked the power of turning aside a rifle-ball, as the indurated back of an alligator often does.
It is to be supposed that the enraged grizzly did not comprehend the possible weakening of his colossal power through the effect of these pellets, and it is quite likely that even with such weakening he would have accomplished the leap of the canyon, but for the interference of an incident which cannot be considered in any other light than providential.
Fred Greenwood’s anguish was for his companion, whom it seemed impossible to help, despite the desperate effort he was making to do so. He saw the grizzly lumbering after Jack, giving no heed to the shots he sent after him, but steadily gaining upon the fugitive,
whose fate hung in the passing of the seconds. Fred knew what it meant when his friend abruptly changed his course and began skirting the canyon in his frantic hunt for a narrower place. The bear was so close upon him for several paces that the terrified Fred stopped short, ceased shooting, and held his breath, expecting the great beast to strike down his comrade. The younger lad could do no more, and, staring at the two, he asked in agony that heaven would not desert his friend.
Suddenly Jack Dudley rose like a bird in air. At the instant the monster was upon him he made the leap, landing on the further edge, as has been told, and quickly scrambling upon solid foundation. Had he been ten seconds later nothing could have saved him, for the grizzly showed no more hesitation than he in making the jump.
At the instant Fred read the brute’s intention he brought his rifle to his shoulder. Unsuspected by himself, the last cartridge in the magazine of his Winchester was in the chamber of the weapon, so that, if it failed to help, the service of the younger lad was at an end for the time, for it would be all over before he could bring into use any cartridges from his belt.
To make the leap to which we have referred the grizzly changed his position. Until that moment he had been running straight away from Fred, but now, of necessity, he turned partly toward him. Recalling the words of Hank Hazletine, Fred aimed at a point just back of the foreleg, as it reached forward. The ball sped true to its aim, and entering, perhaps, the most vulnerable point of the body, did more than all the other bullets that had found a lodging-place in the grizzly, for it inflicted a mortal wound.
It was this fact that destroyed the effort of the bear at the crisis of its inception. The attempt already put forth carried him well beyond the side of the canyon, but it failed to land him firmly on the other margin. His forepaws went over the top, precisely as the hands of Jack Dudley had done, and began a furious scratching of the flinty surface, while the hind feet clawed with equal fierceness the inner side of the wall. The brute was striving to save himself, and it is to be presumed would have done so but for the cause named.
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 49
