Little Oskaloo Part 20

We were gathered around the fire at grandfather's, one winter evening, cracking b.u.t.ternuts and drinking cider, when one of the boys called out for a story, and proposed that grandfather should be the one to tell it.

"Yes, do tell us a story; please," spoke up half a dozen voices; "you haven't told us a story in a long time, grandfather."

"I don't believe I can think of anything new," said grandfather; "I told you all my stories a long time ago."

"Tell us the one about your being treed by a bear," suggested the prospective hunter of the party; "you haven't told that to all of us."

"Oh, yes, tell us that one," cried the children in chorus, and grandfather began:

"When your grandmother and I moved into the country, it didn't look much as it does now. There were no clearings of more than three or four acres in extent, and the settlers were scattered here and there through the woods, two or three miles apart. I came on before your grandmother did, and put up a rough shanty of logs, with a bark roof, and a floor of split pieces of ba.s.swood. You may be sure of one thing, children, and that is, we didn't have things very nice and handy in those days; but we were just beginning, and we had to do the best we could, and what we couldn't help we had to put up with.

"I built a little stable for our cow, which I left with your grandmother in the settlement where you find a city to-day, until I got ready to move my family and all my earthly possessions into the woods where I was making my new home. I cleared off a little patch of ground and got it ready for a garden, and then went after your grandmother and our household goods.

"It was a two days' drive to this place from the settlement then. I hired a man to bring your grandmother and our things, while I drove old Brindle. I shall never forget our first few days in our new home. We couldn't get used to it for some reason. Everything was so rough, and clumsy and awkward, I suppose.

"Your grandmother got homesick, and didn't want me to leave her alone a minute. She was afraid of bears and Indians, and she remembered all the fearful stories she had ever heard or read, of the terrible things that happened to settlers in the backwoods.

"As I was busy at work in clearing up a piece of ground round the shanty, I didn't have to leave her alone except when I went after old Brindle nights. The feed in the woods was so plenty that the old cow didn't care whether she came home or not, and I had to lock her up every night as regular as night came. Sometimes I found her close by home, and sometimes two or three miles off. She wore a little bell which I could hear some distance off from where she was, and it wasn't very hard work to find her.

"I almost always took my gun with me when I went after the old cow, and hardly ever missed bringing home a partridge or a squirrel, which your grandmother would cook for our dinner next day. We had plenty of game in those days, and it was splendid hunting any where you took a notion to go. The woods were full of deer and all kinds of fowl, and so far as that kind of food was concerned, we lived on the fat of the land.

"One night, after we had been here about a month, I started to hunt up the cow, and forgot my gun until I had got so far that I concluded I wouldn't go back after it. I went on through the woods in the direction I had seen old Brindle go in the morning when I let her out of the stable, but I could hear no bell. I wandered round and round through the woods until it got to be quite dark. I must have got 'turned round,' as we used to say in those days when we got bewildered, and couldn't tell which way was north or south, for when I gave up hunting for the cow and concluded to go home I didn't know which way to go.

"However, I started in the direction I thought most likely led towards home. I had been going straight ahead, as I supposed, for ten or fifteen minutes, when I heard something coming toward me with a heavy tread, and pretty soon I heard a growl. Then I knew what it was. I had never seen a bear in the woods, and I had no idea about what sort of fellows they were to meet.

"If I had had my gun along I should have stood my ground, but without any kind of weapon I thought it best to look out for any possible danger, and made for a tree which stood near me. I was a good climber, and in a minute I was stowed away safely in the branches. But I had hardly reached my position when the bear came running up to the tree, and began walking round and round it, stopping every few seconds to raise himself up on his hind feet and take a look at me, or else stretching up against the tree as far as he could reach, as if he hesitated climbing up after me.

"I had a jack-knife with me, and I cut off a limb, which I trimmed into something like a club, to defend myself with if he concluded to come up and make a visit. Whenever he showed a desire to do so, by reaching up his great black paws and tearing away at the bark with his claws, I pounded my club against the body of the tree as far down as I could reach toward him, and that frightened him enough to keep him from climbing.

"But I couldn't frighten him away. He kept walking round and round the tree growling and whining very much like a dog, and I made up my mind that he had concluded to wait for me to come down. But I had no notion of doing that yet a while.

"Two or three hours went by. I wondered what your grandmother would think had happened to me. I knew she would be frightened almost to death, and that worried me, but I saw no way of getting out of the difficulty I had got into, and concluded I should have to spend the night in the tree.

"By and by the moon came up. I could see him distinctly then, as he kept up his march around me. He was an enormous fellow, and a man would have stood but little chance for his life with him unless he had been well armed.

"Well, he kept watch of me all night. He got tired of walking, by and by, and laid down close to the tree. Whenever I stirred, he would rouse up and resume his walk. Neither of us slept. You may be sure it was a long night to me. I couldn't help thinking of your poor grandmother, and wondering what she was doing.

"At last morning came. I thought the bear would be sure to take his departure then, but he evidently had made up his mind to see the thing out, for he made no effort to leave.

"It must have been about seven o'clock when I heard some one hallooing not far off, and, peering through the branches, I saw your grandmother, with my gun on her shoulder. She had started out to look for me. I saw that the bear had not discovered her, and I shouted:

"'Don't come any nearer, Susan. I'm up the hickory tree, and there's a big bear at the foot of it. If he sees you there'll be trouble. You'd better go back to the house, and I'll come as soon as I can.'

"I saw her stop and look toward us very earnestly, and I knew she was thinking whether she could help me out of my difficulty. Pretty soon I saw her rest the gun over a little sapling and take sight at the bear, who had squatted down a few feet from the foot of the tree, and sat there looking up at me as if he was trying to make out what I was shouting so for.

"I was just going to tell your grandmother not to shoot, for I never once supposed she could hit the animal, when, bang! went the gun, and the bear gave a growl and a leap into the air, where he spun around like a top, and then dropped flat on the ground, and never stirred but once or twice afterward.

"'You've killed him!' I shouted, and slid down from my rather uncomfortable quarters, just as your grandmother came running up, pale as a ghost, and almost frightened at what she had dared to do. The minute she realized there was no danger, she drooped into my arms, and began to cry.

"We cut up the bear and took most of it to the house. It kept us in meat for a long time, and we used the skin for a carpet. I didn't forget my gun after that when I went after old Brindle, you may be quite sure.

"Your grandmother had never fired off a gun before, but when she found out that they weren't such terrible things after all as she had supposed they must be, she practiced with my rifle until she could shoot as well as I could, and after that she used to keep us in partridge and such game, while I cleared off land for crops. That first shot of hers was the best one she ever made, however."

"And so grandmother really killed a bear!" cried the children, and straightway the pleasant-faced, smiling grandmother became a heroine in their estimation, as they thought over the story grandfather had told.

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