Rare Vintage Books. The X Bar X boys on Whirlpool River. 1926

CHAPTER I

King Of The Forest

“If there be such in these woods, then such there be,” announced Teddy Manley, and punctuated this cryptic utterance with a slight grunt as he bent over the marks in the soft earth.

“No doubt, no doubt,” his brother, Roy, declared dryly. “Speak the mother tongue, Teddy. What are you staring at, anyhow?”

“Take a look for yourself,” Teddy answered briefly, and stepped aside. Roy moved closer, gazed curiously at the impressions on the ground, then gave a low whistle.

“Bear tracks!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Bear tracks, or I’m a shad!”

“You remain as originally intended,” remarked Teddy. “Those are definite, certain, and never-to-be-doubted bear tracks. Now the burning question is—” he hitched up his belt and turned his head from side to side. “Whar am Mister B’ar?”

Roy hunched his shoulders in a gesture expressing entire ignorance of the subject. The tracks were fairly fresh, but their maker could be many miles away by this time.

It was early fall, and the two brothers had started out from the X Bar X Ranch, with the intention of bagging some small game. Teddy carried a light shotgun, hoping to get a chance at duck. Roy had brought with him a small-bore rifle. Hardly the weapons with which to hunt bear.

The boys had picketed their ponies near the foot of the mountain, knowing that the steep grade above made riding impractical. Thus far they had not sighted any game worth considering, but now, when they were near the top, Teddy had come upon the bear tracks.

“Do we follow them?” Teddy, the younger, asked dubiously. He glanced down at the gun held in the crook of his arm. “This shotgun I have would only take his picture, Roy, and that pea-shooter of yours isn’t much better. What’s the verdict?”

Roy looked at his brother and smiled.

“Trying to kid me? After looking for bears in these woods for years, when we raise one, you want to know things! Huh! Don’t ask! Look me straight in the eye, brother mine, and say: What would you rather do, or hunt bear?”

“You’re the doctor,” Teddy responded. “You must be getting reckless in your old age, Roy.” This last was to nail any idea that Teddy hesitated to face the adventure. He was slightly chagrined at the fact that Roy had taken the initiative in suggesting that they proceed. Usually it was the other way around, the younger lad proposing, and Roy, with what he was pleased to call his “more mature judgment,” disposing.

“Far be it from me to dissuade you from entering the lists against a baby bear,” Teddy went on. “I hope you see him before he sees you. Those animals are easily scared.”

“Yes, Teddy, my lad,” Roy said with a maddening grin. “We shall not argue the issue. Come on—let’s go.”

Grumbling half-heartedly to himself, Teddy Manley followed the tracks. As he proceeded, the injustice that had been done him was forgotten in the mounting excitement of the chase. The tracks led diagonally across the mountain, and seemed to get fresher with every yard. As the boys came to a clearing, Teddy halted.

“Not long since he passed here!” he exclaimed, as he noticed an ant heap that had been disturbed by the animal. “Look—those ants are still half crazy with fright—running around every which way.”

It was not by accident that Teddy’s eyes caught this telltale bit of evidence. Born and brought up in the West, these boys could interpret the signs of the forest with unerring judgment. Where another might see merely a broken twig, the young ranchers read a story.

“He’s close,” Roy returned laconically. He looked to his rifle. The magazine was full, and he pumped a bullet into the chamber. If they did come upon the bear, by great good luck Roy might succeed in placing a shot through the eye into the brain, which was the only place where the small bullet would be effective. If he missed—well, several things might happen, and not all of them to the bear.

Teddy gazed intently toward a clump of sage brush just off the trail. Absently he bent his left knee, and with his hand he dislodged a piece of dirt that had caught on the heel of his shoe. This he tossed into the bush carelessly.

There was a sudden deep-throated growl. The bushes stirred, then parted. Framed in a circlet of brown sage brush, appeared the shaggy head of a huge black bear.

Neither boy spoke. Silently Roy leveled his rifle. The bear stood as immobile as a statue, staring fiercely at the intruders, only his head showing. Then, as the lips drew back in a snarl, showing the sharp teeth and the red gums, Roy pressed the trigger.

There was a sharp crack. The bear started as though it had been stung by a hornet, and a crimson spot of blood marked the black fur just above the left eye.

“Take it on the run!” Teddy cried hoarsely, and fired as he spoke. He knew the buckshot would have small effect, but he hoped it might cause the animal to hesitate long enough to give them an opportunity to make their escape.

As the bear moved forward Roy sprang to one side. With a yell to Teddy to follow, he bounded to the right, then up, toward a ledge that jutted out from the mountain over their heads. If they could gain that, and the bear could not, they had a good chance for their lives.

Teddy leaped after his brother. The bear, growling in rage at the pain of his wound, sought to close his teeth in Teddy’s leg. The boy gave a shout, and releasing his hold on the gun gave all his attention to the business at hand—beating the bear to the ledge. Strangely enough, as he scrambled up the incline, Teddy’s thoughts reverted to the ranch yard, when only yesterday he and Roy had sat on the corral fence and snickered as Pop Burns told about the time a bear had tried to make a meal from Nick Looker’s pants, while Nick was in swimming at Lomley’s Lake. According to Pop, the bear had struck a fishhook in the back pocket, and out of revenge had chased Nick all over creation.

“Now I know just how Nick felt,” Teddy panted. “Never—as long as I live—will I laugh at another bear story! Hey, Roy! Hang on to your gun! Mine’s gone!”

But even as he spoke, he heard a thud and saw their only remaining firearm go sliding down the mountain. It hit in the path of the oncoming beast, and the animal stopped for a moment to see what this was that tumbled toward him. As the rifle reached him, he put out his paw, stopped the gun, sniffed at it, then flicked it from him with a snort, and once more lumbered on.

But at least the rifle had served one good purpose—for in that small interval of time Roy had reached the ledge. He jumped upward, careless of consequences, and felt his finger close over the root of a tree. Straining every muscle, he gradually drew himself up—higher—higher—and, with a gasp of thankfulness, he sank down upon the rock.

Then, bracing himself, he stretched his arms over the edge toward Teddy. The boy seized his brother’s hands, and, grunting with exertion, succeeded in gaining the shelf just as the bear reached the spot where he had stood but a moment before.

“Leaping lizards!” Teddy panted. “That was some close! Hey, listen to that geezer grunt! Golly, I—”

“I’ll tell a maverick it was close!” Roy gasped. “Another second and you’d have been mince-meat! I told you we shouldn’t have followed those tracks. If we had had a decent rifle—”

“You told me! Well, for the love of Pete! And you were the one who wanted to do all this bear hunting! Great snakes! How do you get that way? Wow! Listen to our friend! He won’t be able to talk to-morrow!”

Below them the bear was uttering dire threats against their safety and was trying desperately to reach the ledge by jumping. Every time he sprang the boys heard the “scra-a-a-ape” of his claws over the rock.

Teddy shook his head.

“Baby,” he remarked, “I sure hope he gets discouraged easily! If he ever manages to pull himself up here—good-night!”

Cautiously Roy leaned over.

“He’s still at it. Thank goodness this shelf is narrow. But the point is, how are we going to get down? It’s a cinch we can’t climb up that cliff.” He motioned with his thumb to the wall back of them, which rose straight up. “As long as the old boy wants to hang around, we’re his guests,” he finished grimly.

“Well, if you had frozen to that gun of yours we might have a chance. But there it is, lying down on the rocks, not doing us a bit of good. It might just as well be at home as down there. Say—”

Teddy stopped short. Speechless, he seized his brother’s arm and pointed. Roy looked along the side of the mountain, then staggered against the wall.

“Jumping catamounts!” he groaned. “We’re cooked! Another one! Start the slow music, Teddy. This bear’s brought his gang along with him!”

“Oh, cheer up! It’s not a gang—yet! It’s one bear, only one! And that makes two bears, only two! Golly, if we only had a rifle!”