NEXT morning, after a hasty breakfast, the boys saddled their horses, and, led by the trapper, set out to find the wagon. Now it was that the latter showed the young hunters his extraordinary “travelin’ qualities,” as he expressed it; for as soon as the boys were in their saddles, he shouldered his rifle and started off, at a rapid pace, which he did not slacken at all until they arrived on the banks of a small stream, where they stopped to quench their thirst.

“Now, youngsters,” said the trapper, seating himself on the ground, and wiping his forehead with his coat sleeve, “There’s the place. The Comanche’s camp war pitched jest in the edge of them ar’ willows, an’ right where you see them bushes war where I stood afore I started to run the gauntlet. The chief’s wigwam stood thar then. I tell you, it warn’t healthy fur a feller to go foolin’ ’round here them days.”

The boys gazed long and earnestly at every object the trapper pointed out, and listened to his narration of the various incidents that had transpired during his captivity, until they almost fancied they could see the prairie covered with painted savages, and their guide, in the midst of his foes, awaiting the signal to begin his race for life. Dick, himself, was no less interested, for he sat for a long time feasting his eyes on every familiar object; now and then casting suspicious glances toward the distant willows, as if he almost expected to catch a glimpse of a hostile warrior, or hear the war-whoop which had so often awoke the echoes of those very mountains.

“Wal, youngsters,” said he, at length, “let’s be movin’! I never expected to see the time when I could travel over these ere prairies without bein’ in danger of havin’ my har raised; an’ if you live to be as old as I am, you’ll see the day that ’em city chaps will ride through here on ’em steam railroads; an’ if they see this place, they’ll never dream that such things as I have told you about ever happened here.”

The travelers again set out, Dick leading the way, at a still more rapid pace, and in two hours they arrived at the camp. Mr. Winters and old Bob were lying in the shade of the wagon, and as the boys approached, the former raised himself on his elbow, and inquired:

“Well, boys, how do you like traveling on your own hook? Do you think you could find your way to California without a guide?”

“Oh, they war all right!” exclaimed Dick, leaning his rifle against the wagon, and picking up the antelope skin which Archie had thrown down, and which contained some choice pieces of meat. “They war all right! Me and Useless found ’em down on Muddy Creek, Bob. They had killed this prong-horn, made their camp, an’ war takin’ matters easy like, as though they had never heered tell on a Comanche—the keerless fellers.”

While Frank and Archie were unsaddling their horses, the trapper proceeded to recount their adventures, to which both Mr. Winters and old Bob listened attentively. The latter was not a little astonished to learn that the boys could so readily accommodate themselves to circumstances, and was more firm than ever in his belief that “the youngsters would make good trappers.”

Mr. Winters had, at first, been considerably alarmed at their absence; but, upon reflection, he remembered that the boys had often been in positions fully as dangerous, from which they had always succeeded in extricating themselves, and he soon fell in with the trapper’s opinion, that they would “turn up all right.” He did not think it necessary to caution them, for, from the description the trapper gave of their adventures, it was not at all probable that they would ever again be placed in a like situation.

After a hearty dinner, which Dick speedily served up, they again set out toward the mountains, which they reached about the middle of the afternoon. After riding along the edge of the willows, for half a mile, they came to a wide but very shallow stream, into which the trapper turned, and after following it for some distance, drove out on the bank and stopped.

“Here we are,” said he, as he climbed down out of his wagon. “Now, youngsters, you’re at the ole bar’s hole. But if you didn’t know it war here, you might hunt fur it till your har war whiter nor Bob’s, an’ then you wouldn’t find it, an’ that wouldn’t be no wonder neither; fur many a sharpeyed Comanche has looked an’ peeped fur it, but only one ever found it that I know of, an’ it didn’t do him no good, fur he never lived to tell of it.”

While the trapper was speaking, old Bob had dismounted from his horse, and, walking up to a thicket of bushes which grew at the foot of a high rock that overhung the bed of the stream, began pulling them aside, and finally disclosed to view an opening that appeared to lead down into the very bowels of the earth. Meanwhile, Dick had gathered some dry wood for a torch, and, after lighting it, he backed down into the hole and disappeared, followed by Frank and Archie, who were impatient to see the inside of the cave which had so often served their guide as a secure retreat from his enemies. The passage was long and winding, and it was with considerable difficulty that the boys worked their way into it. Besides, it was in some places so narrow that they could scarcely squeeze themselves through it. The trapper, however, worked his way along with a celerity that was surprising, and soon both he and the torch were out of sight, and the boys were left in pitch darkness. But there was little danger of their being lost in that narrow passage, and they crawled along as rapidly as possible, until at length Archie, who was leading the way, stopped, and began to rub his elbows and knees, which had received some pretty severe scratches from the sharp rocks.

“I say, Frank,” he exclaimed, “how do you suppose Dick ever squeezed his broad shoulders through a narrow place like this? What’s that?” he added, in a terrified voice, as they heard a savage growl, which seemed to sound directly over their heads.

Frank did not stop to answer, but throwing himself on his hands and knees, began to make the best of his way out of the passage, closely followed by his cousin, who urged him to go faster. They had not gone far when they were startled by the report of a rifle, which was followed by a roar that echoed and reËchoed through the cave like a heavy clap of thunder. What it was that had uttered that roar the boys were unable to determine; but they knew, by the report of the trapper’s rifle, and the sounds of a fierce struggle that came faintly to their ears, that Dick had found his old harboring-place occupied by some animal which did not feel disposed to give up possession; and they got out of the passage in much less time than it had taken them to get into it. When they reached the open air, the old trapper, who had heard the report of his “chum’s” rifle, threw himself on his hands and knees, and crawled into the cave, followed by Mr. Winters. The boys at once ran to the wagon after their weapons, but by the time they had secured them, the fight was ended, and Dick made his appearance at the mouth of the passage. But he did not look like the man who had gone into that cave but a few moments before. His hunting-shirt and leggins were torn almost into shreds, his arms were bare to his shoulders, and were covered with wounds that were bleeding profusely. The boys were horrified; but their fears that the trapper had received serious injury were speedily set at rest, for he smiled as if nothing had happened, and exclaimed:

“Now you see what it is to be a trapper, youngsters. I shall allers think that ’ar cave has a good name, fur if me an’ Useless didn’t find the biggest grizzly bar in thar we ever sot eyes on, then thar aint no more beaver in the Missouri River.”

As he spoke, he divested himself of what remained of his hunting-shirt, and walked down to the creek to wash the blood off his hands and face, in which he was assisted by Mr. Winters. While this was going on, old Bob crawled out of the cave, carrying two cubs in his arms, which he presented to the boys, saying:

“Them’s young grizzlies. They don’t look now as if they would ever get to be as big and fierce as their mother war.”

As the boys took them, they both set up a shrill cry, and fought most desperately for such small animals, and their sharp little claws left more than one mark upon the hands and faces of the young hunters.

“Keep an eye open, Bob,” shouted Dick, who was seated on the ground, while Mr. Winters was bandaging his wounds. “Keep an’ eye open, ’cause the old man of the family may be ’round.”

Upon hearing this, Archie dropped his cub, and seizing his rifle, cast anxious glances upon the surrounding woods. But if the father was in the vicinity, he evidently thought it best to keep out of sight.

When Dick’s wounds had been cared for, and he had put on another suit of clothes, he seated himself on the ground, near the boys, while Bob kindled a fire and began preparations for supper.

“It aint allers fun to be a trapper, youngsters,” said Dick, puffing away at his pipe, “’cause, afore a man can earn that name, he’s got to go through a heap of skrimmages, like the one I jest had. When I’m on the prairy, or in the mountains, I allers keep my eyes open, an’ the fust thing I seed as I crawled out of that passage into that ar’ cave war that grizzly bar. She seed me, too, and set up a growl, as if to tell me that I couldn’t get away from thar any too quick; but she didn’t wink more’n twice afore I sent a chunk of lead into her. The light of the torch, however, bothered me, an’ I didn’t shoot atween her eyes, as I meant to; an’ afore a feller could say ‘Gin’ral Jackson,’ she war comin’ at me. Now, I’ve been in jest such scrapes afore, an’ the way I’ve got pawed up, an’ seed other fellers that were bigger and stronger than me, clawed an’ torn, has showed me that no one man that ever lived is a match fur a full-grown grizzly; an’ when I seed ole Bob poke his rifle out of the passage an’ draw a bead on that bar’s head, I’ll allow it made me feel a heap easier. If he had stayed away five minits longer, I don’t believe I’d ever showed you the way to Californy. As it war, I got pretty well clawed up.”

This was the way the trapper described the fight in the cave, which was one of the most desperate he had ever engaged in, as the severe wounds he had received proved. But he looked upon such things as a matter of course. He expected to be engaged in many similar fights; always held himself in readiness for them, and when they were over, another notch was added to those on the handle of his knife (for Dick kept a strict account of the number of grizzlies he killed,) and he had another story to tell by the camp-fire.

After supper, the trappers procured torches, and, accompanied by Mr. Winters and the boys, proceeded to explore the cave. There, lying where she had fallen in defense of her young, was the grizzly, which was the first of these animals the boys had ever seen. As near as they could judge, she was fully twice the size and weight of the bear Frank had killed in the woods, and her claws, which she had used with such effect upon the trapper and his dog, (for, in defending his master, Useless had been most roughly handled,) measured eight inches in length. Every thing in the cave bore evidence to the fact that the fight had been a severe one. The floor and walls were covered with blood, and on the bear’s body were numerous wounds, made by the knife of the trapper, and the teeth of the faithful Useless.

After the boys had examined the bear to their satisfaction, old Bob began to remove the skin, while Dick pointed out other objects of interest in the cave. There were the withered hemlock boughs which had many a time served him and Bill Lawson for a bed, and under them was a hole about two feet square, which the trapper called his “pantry.” He told Mr. Winters the story of the “struggle in the cave,” and showed him the passage that led to the top of the hill where the Comanches had entered, and where he had for two days kept watch, awaiting the coming of old Bill.

They remained in the cave for an hour, listening to Dick’s stories; for in his mind the “Ole Bar’s Hole” was associated with many exciting events, and it was dark before they returned to the camp.