Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 308 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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LT Ea et + eee etn es — 10 The bear bad fallen upon bim from off the olw roof, nearly crushing him by its weight. At the same time be bad been badly scratched by the animal in its frantic efforts to get away. But that was not the worst of it. “Help!” he shouted, as bis comrades came up. *“*Git a doctor, quick! Take off the b’ar!” ‘““What is the matter with you, Sol?” calmly inquired Zeb Carter. **[ shot the b’ar, and the b’ar bas killed me. Be quick! I’m bleedin’ to death.” ion Where are you hurt?” / * All over. On my head and everywhere, The blood is pourin’ from me. Jest feel it.” While some went for lights, others examined the wounded man, They found him drenched with a clammy, sticky fluid, that had covered his head, filled his face and eyes, and flowed down over his gar- ments; ‘* You seem to. be right lively for a dead man,” remarked Carter; ‘* but such a sight of blood is really amazin’.” |. *Mebbe it’s the bear’s blood,” suggested another. ‘*T hope it ain’t Sol’s, anyhow.” ‘‘It’s molasses!” cried Luka Schooley, who had happened to carry bis hand to his mouth after feeling of his bleeding comrade, '' The next moment he stumbled over the keg of molasses, nearly empty, and that satisfied him of the nature of the calamity. ‘‘ The consarned critter war up there stealin’ our molasses when Sol shot at him,” said he. Torches were brought from the fire in front of the cabin, and the spectacle that Sol Barnes presented caused the entire party to burst into a roar of laughter. From. head to foot he was dripping with mo- lasses, and the sticky stuff that bad trickled down over his face compelled him to keep his eyes closed. It was clear that the bear, surprised at the beginning of his feast, and pained by the sting of the shot, had fallen down and off the roof, bringing with him the keg of molasses. He had not only dropped upon poor Sol Barnes, but had emptied the molasses over him. An examination of Sol by the light of the torches showed that there was blood mingled with the molasses upon bis person; but it was hoped that it might be the blood of Bruin, as it was evident that the beast had been badly wounded. % What had becume of the bear? The line of his retreat could be easily dis- tinguished by a trail of blood; but it was not worth while to pursue him in the darkness, ‘‘ Tm willin’ to bet that he won’t go far,” ob- served Zeb Carter, ‘and we can look him up after daylight. You gave hima sockdolager, Sol—no mistake about that. Come around to the front, now, and we will try to clean you off.” By dint of soaking and serubbing, the hero of the night was fairly cleaned of the sweet and sticky stuff, and it was then perceived that his hurts were of little consequence, But the operation took so much time that day- light had come when it was finished, and there was no chance for him to retire upon his laurels and bis couch of sprnce bougbs. **T dunno,” remarked Luke Schooley, ‘* but it might ha’ paid us better to b’ile him down and have a sugarin’ off.” Barnes gave him an ugly look, ‘t Now, Sol, don’t scowl like that. A man who has been sweetened down like you have oughtn’t to sour on the world any more.” It was thought best to get breakfast out of the way before going to hunt Sol’s bear, and that meal was duly prepared, eaten, and smoked over. ' Sol Barnes had relapsed into his usual state of gloom and taciturnity. ' Kiven if he had killed the bear, he could not congratulate him on the result of the en- counter, as the only garments that were left to him were completely soaked with molasses. “ All the better for that, Sol,” observed Luke Schooley. ‘‘’Twill make ’em tight. "Most as good as if you was caulked and tarred,” They set out to follow the track of the bear taking the two rifles, loaded so that they would ae sure to do execution, at one end or the other. The bloody trail was plain enough, but was longer than they bad expected it to It was. conceded that the brute was pos- sessed of unusual tenacity of life, or that he was not as badly wounded as he was supposed | At a distance of nearly two miles from their ‘camp they came to a thicket, into which the trail led, and there could scarcely be a doubt that the bear was in there, alive or dead. ‘They were p ing to surround the thicket and beat the bushes for Bruin, when they sud- denly came in sight of his body, in the open ground on the other side of the patch. Not the dead bear only, but two men who stood near him, A white man and an Indian. Dick Risden and Auguste—the same men whom they had met down the river. Zeb Carter was about to advance and greet them, when Sol Barnes flared up. Hemlock Fiank. ‘* Leave that b’ar alone! What are you doin’ to him? That’s my b’ar.” ** How long have you owned him?” inquired the detective. “J shot him last night. He stole my clothes.” ‘* He don’t seem to be, wearing any of them.” ‘‘ Never you mind, He belongs to me.” ‘“You are welcome to him. I haven’t lost any bears.” Dick Risden was warmly welcomed by the loggers, who were hungry for news. But be had none to give them—at least, none of the sort they were seeking. He had been in tbe woods as long as they bad, andbad received no communications from the outside world, The bear was skinned and dressed, and his hide, with the best portions of his meat, was carried to the camp. Thither Dick Risden and his follower accom- panied the loggers. On the way he heard the story of the depre- dations of the bear and his tragi-comical end— a story which afforded amusement to all but Sol Barnes. But nothing ever amused Sol. At the camp they had a brief smoke and chat before the loggers went to their work, “Seen anythin’ of that man you were hunt- in’, Mr, Risden?” inquired Zeb Carter. “ No, and I dm inclined to give up the job, as I have had nothing but bad luck so far, and winter is coming on.” He went on to tell of the hurricane he had encountered near the foot of Katahdin, and the storm and torrent that had struck bim in at- tempting to ascend the mountain, “Those things are common enough about here,” remarked Carter. ‘‘They don’t worry men that’s used to’em, But winter is comin’ on, as you say, and huntin’ for a needle in a haystack is apt to be tiresome work.” “No doubt of that—especially if the needle doesn’t; happen to be there. By the way, Mr. Carter, where is Hemlock Hank?’ ‘““Darned if I know,” answered Zeb, a little taken aback by this sudden and unexpected a T believe that he usually comes up into the pine woods at this time of the year, and I thought that he might be somewhere in this neighborhood.” ‘*He might, and he might not.” Sol Barnes spoke up and blurted out some facts, in spite of the frowns of his leader. ‘¢We met him as we was comin’ up the river, arter we saw you. He was in a canoe with a oung cbap from Bangor. I don’t know what bos become of him; but I can tell where you'll be apt to hear of him, if he’s about this part 0’ the kentry. ‘* Where is that?” ‘‘At Hubbard’s. I will show you the way there, if you want.” ‘‘Is that what you’re hired for, Sol Barnes?” growled Zeb Carter. ‘‘Never mind,” said the detective, “Of coursé Auguste knows the place.” Risden and his follower went. their way after the little chat, and the loggers proceeded to their work. As they went Zeb Carter ke to Sol Barnes severely about his recent exhibition of freshness. ‘What did you mean by openin’ your darned old pertater-trap when nobody wanted you to speak?” ** As how?” replied Sol. “ Tellin’ all you know, and more, too, about Hank Ward,” ! ** It seemed like you didn’t know.” “Seemed, did it? It must have seemed to anybody who-had a bit of common sense, that I didn’t care to tell all I knew. What business has such a man as that with Hemlock Hank, anyhow?” **T don’t purtend to say.” ‘You are no friend of Hank’s,” suggested Luke Schooley, ‘‘ when you put a detective on his track?’ ‘“‘Did L ever purtend to be a friend of his’n?” ‘*You bad better not be his enemy.” ‘* Mebbe there’s two opinions about that.” CHAPTER XIV. ANOTHER BEAR STORY. Hemiock Hank and Charley Creed seemed to have settled themselves at ‘‘ The Outlook,” as Mattie Marley bad named the plateau on which her home was situated. The young gentleman from Bangor was well satisfied to remain there. Because, as he said, there was such splendid hunting in that vicinity, as well as such delight- ful fishing in the mountain streams, and be- cause he anticipated much pleasure in explorin old Katahdin, not having the fear of Pamol before his eyes. Because, as he might have said, this cause of his satisfaction being plain enough to the others, he could there enjoy the companionship of Mat- tie Marley. He and Hank had brought up their shelter- tent and most of their belongings, and they soon made themselves quite at home on the plateau. This arrangement was not objected to by ‘ -——— ————$—— Solon Marley, who was pleased with evorsihing that pleased his daughter, and who easily al- lowed her to rule bim if she would only permit him to remain where he was, Besides, be believed most thoroughly and im- Hat oly in the friendsaip and truth of Hemlock ank, It was not objected to by Mattie, who was glad enough to bave company in that solitude— especially such a friend as Hank Ward, and perbaps more especially, such a nice young man as Gharley Creed. There was only one person on the plateau who appeared to object to it. bat was Louis, the Indian, Solon Marley’s hunter and bandy man. His objection may bave been more apparent than real; but it is certain that be scowled at Charley Creed, and in other ways intimated that the young man’s presence there was dis- tasteful to him. ‘*] wonder why Louis dislikes me so,” he said to the girl one day. ‘‘ Do you know what is the matter with him?” ‘‘It is not that he likes you less,” answered Mattie, ‘‘but that he likes me more. That ie all that is the matter with Louis.” ‘*Ts he jealous, then?” ‘‘T suppose it is something like that. Louis is very fond of me, and is always anxious todo anything he can to please me. If I wanted an admirer, I could be sure of finding one in Louis,” ‘* But he is no admirer of mine.” . ‘‘T don’t know about that, Mr. Creed. If you were in danger, and I gave him the word, he would go to his death to serve you. But he would probably scowl and look sour at you, just the same,” ‘“* You are the one, then, who absorbs all his sweetness. I must try to get on the sunny side of him.” Though Charley Creed professed to be an en- thusiastic hunter, he did not seem to enjoy the sport that Katabdin afforded unless he had com- pany to belp him appreciate it. The courpeny that be desired was that of Mattie Marley. She, though a dweller in the wilderness, was no bunter, ! That is, she did not possess a rifle, and had never fired any larger weapon than a pistol, But she was vastly fond of roaming tbe forests and climbing the mountain, and was generally more than willing to accompany any person who proposed a bunt or a tramp. al When anything bappened to prevent ber from undertaking a bunting excursion, it might bays been noticed that Charley Creed reais los interest in the affair. One day a deer-bunt was arranged, and Mat- tie Marley was both able and eager to go, There could be no objection to this, as there was to be a party of three, ome of whom was Hemlock Hank. Louis was left at. home to take care of the old gentleman, who, as Mattie explained, was apt to be queer at times, when he happened to be brooding over his troubles, and could not al- wn be relied on to take proper care of him- se . The morning. was bright and frosty, and the air was keen, but clear and exhilarating. They were going to a deer-pass, so-called— a deep and narrow valley in the congeries of mountains, through which the deer were wont to on their way to water. he location of this pass had been ma known to them by Louis, who was on the be of terms with Hank Ward, and the Indian’s in- structions easily enabled the guide to find if, Ward took the lead, keeping an eye out, like the wary old campaigner that he was, in all directions at once. ‘ Perhaps he did not keep a very close watch upon the rear, in which direction Charley Creed and Mattie Marley were following him at a little distance, evidently more absorbed in each other than in their surroundings, The forest might have been full of deer, for all the good those two would have got out of them. They reached the pass in good time, and con- cealed themselves to await the coming of the ame, * And they had not long to wait. . A fine buck, suspecting no sort of harm, came walking leisurely down the But the first intimation that the ae 0- le had of his presence. was the crack of Hem- ock Hank’s rifle. The tall woodsman had taken good aim as the antlered beauty, slowly approached him, and bad sent a death-shot into his brown bide. Forward bounded the buck, the instinct of escape strong within him in spite of his mortal wound, with his head thrown up, his antlers high in air,and the blood streaming from bis breast upon the fallen leaves. Charley raised bis rifle, but did not need the girl’s eager entreaty torefrain from shooting. It was plain that the deer’s time had come, Only a few bounds he made, and sunk upon the ground near where the young folks were concealed. . The three gathered around bim, and Hemlock —_ Comiebooks:co