  Hugh had known Billy Worth to be addicted to playing practical jokes on many occasions, but he was really puzzled to guess the truth when the other so loudly declared he had met with a bear on the trail above. There were a number of small wild animals still to be found in that section of the country. Hugh himself had met with a ferocious wildcat on one of the camping trips of the troop up at Pioneer Lake, but such a thing as a black bear had not been seen by any one for many years. Billy was certainly not playing a part, Hugh quickly decided. The patrol leader had thrown out an arm, so as to block the passage and prevent Billy from continuing his mad flight, for he gave evidences of being inclined that way. He kept looking back along the hill trail as though fully anticipating seeing a huge hairy monster suddenly loom up. He stood ready to break away and once more dash down toward the road to the place where the bicycles had been left. Arthur, though not free from a touch of panic himself, began to suspect that it was all a humbug. He turned on Billy and scornfully demanded: “Show us your old bear, can’t you? March him up and let’s look him in the eye! I reckon that you’re trying to rattle your boon companions, that’s what you’re up to, Billy Worth. It don’t go, and you might as well call it off.” Billy began to get a grip on himself, for there is nothing like derision to bring a boy to his proper senses. He straightened up, and a tinge of color came back into his plump cheeks as he retorted: “If you don’t believe me—let’s see you go right along up there, that’s all! Let me tell you this, Arthur Cameron, if you’ll agree to walk straight along this same trail right up to your old wireless fixing on top of Cedar Hill, I’ll—yes, I’ll agree to give you that hunting knife of mine you asked me to trade for your spare compass. Get that, do you? And I’m safe in making the offer, too, because I know you’ll get the rattles as bad as I did just as soon as you set eyes on that terrible monster!” Hugh was still studying the other. He wondered what it could have been that Billy had really seen to alarm him so much. As a rule the other scout was not given to wild imaginings like several other boys connected with the troop whom Hugh knew very well. On the contrary Billy had generally shown a steadiness much to his credit; he was matter-of-fact and not often given to romancing. “This thing has gone far enough, Billy,” he said sternly. “I know you don’t believe what I say, Chief,” complained the other, “but I’m going to raise my hand, and on the honor of a scout say once more that I did really and truly see a bear!” “Well, let it go at that,” said Hugh. “We’ll believe that you thought you saw some sort of thing that looked like a bear. I’ve known fellows who saw ghosts and believed it as much as they could anything, till it was proven that the moving white object was a pillow-slip left out on the clothes line, floating up and down in the soft night air. Sometimes in the dim woods a stump can look mighty like a big black bear, I’m told.” “P’raps that’s all true enough, Hugh,” persisted the other, “but when you see it rear up on its hind legs, and start at you—that looks different, don’t it?” demanded the other. “Oh! then it moved, did it? actually got up on its hind legs and wanted to give you the high sign?” jeered Arthur still unconvinced. “Well, that’s what you get for belonging to the Wolf Patrol. This wonderful bear thought you might be his own cousin. He meant to shake hands with you, Billy.” Billy shrugged his broad shoulders. Though still looking a little anxious, he was no longer white in the face. This scepticism on the part of Arthur had the good effect of arousing what was combative in his jolly nature, and putting fresh courage in his boyish heart. “Well,” he went on to say resolutely, “I can see that you’ll never be satisfied till you meet up with that bear for yourself, Arthur. So s’pose you hike out. We’ll follow after you. I dare you to, get that?” No boy can easily stand being put on his mettle. With quaking heart many a lad has started into a country churchyard on a dark night or in some other such reckless venture just because his mates have given him the “dare.” Arthur gave a quick look up the trail. So far as he could see, there did not appear to be anything amiss in that direction. Surely if a hungry bear did lurk near by he would have been apt to show himself ere this. So Arthur, feeling that he had gone too far now to show the white feather, threw out his chest, and stepped ahead of the other two. “All right, you watch me show you up for the biggest fakir going, Billy,” he remarked with all the firmness he could command. “I’ve passed up and down along the same trail dozens of times, and if there’d been such a thing as a bear around—well, wouldn’t I be apt to know it? Guess I would. Now, I’ve seen a fox once, a little red fox; likewise a skunk that I gave a wide berth to. There was a rabbit that used to jump out of the bushes every single day, sometimes giving me a start, if I happened to be thinking hard and forgot about it. Wonder whether anybody could make out one of those to be a bear!” “Oh! go on and climb, that’s all,” chuckled the confident Billy. “You’ll see if I’ve got magnifiers in my eyes this time.” “And what if we don’t see your bear?” asked Arthur. He started rather slowly to mount the trail, keeping a bright lookout ahead, which caution rather belied his confident way of expressing his disbelief. “You will, all right,” replied the other from behind Hugh. “Even if he’s dusted out, can’t we look for his tracks? What’s the use of being scouts if we aren’t able to tell what the marks of a bear’s paw and claws look like?” Arthur did not reply in words. He did cast a quick glance over his shoulder, however, which may have been simply to make sure his chums were close at his heels, though Hugh rather suspected the leader to be desirous of making certain that there was a clear field for flight open to him in case of necessity. Caution as well as valor is a part of a scout’s education, and he who is wise will always know of a way for retreat though scorning to make use of the same. Billy in the rear was evidently very much in earnest. Hugh could hear him breathing hard, as if his excitement were returning in full force the closer they drew to the place where he had met his recent alarming adventure. Although he could not believe it possible that Billy had actually seen such a thing as a bear, still Hugh confessed to feeling considerable curiosity himself in the matter. He had already made up his mind that it would turn out to be some old stump that stood in a rather dark and gloomy spot. Perhaps a squirrel had run up the stump, frightened by the sudden appearance of the boy, and this movement, coupled with the queer appearance of the remnant of a tree, had given Billy his scare. Well, they would soon know what it might have been. Arthur was steadily advancing up the hillside, none too swiftly it must be confessed. He had apparently remembered all he had ever learned about the habits of a real scout when passing through lonely woods where dangers were apt to lurk, for it could be seen that he was turning his head to the right and to the left from time to time, as if determined that nothing should escape his observation. “Listen! didn’t you hear something that sounded like a whine?” asked Billy from his position of safety in the rear. It might have been just like him to try and add to the nervousness of the scout who led the van, but Hugh knew that this was not so; he too had caught some sort of odd sound at the same time that the other spoke so thrillingly. As for Arthur, he stopped short. “What could that have been, Hugh?” he asked anxiously, while the satisfied Billy actually began to chuckle with glee at seeing the doubting one begin to show signs of wavering. “I couldn’t say, Arthur,” replied the scout master promptly. “Some sort of animal made it. I should think even a fox could bark loud enough for that, or a weasel snarl because he was bothered while feeding. Want me to lead off, Arthur?” Perhaps the boy would have been glad of the chance to say yes, but knowing how Billy would exult at his sudden change of heart he shut his teeth hard together and merely replied: “Well, I should say not, Hugh. I don’t make out to be the bravest scout in the troop in the Wolf Patrol, but I hope I am not ready to lie down and crawl just because I happen to hear a silly old whine. Chances are it’s some dog that’s been digging out a rabbit burrow up here and wants to let us know he’s on deck. Come on, both of you, and let’s see what’s up.” With that Arthur resumed his upward progress, covering foot after foot, continuing his careful survey ahead. Hugh was really proud of the way the late “tenderfoot” managed to carry on the lead so successfully; even under the exciting conditions the scout master could pay attention to such things, since they concerned his duties as instructor. “Just a little further, Arthur, and you’ll turn that sharp bend,” almost whispered Billy, pressing up against Hugh in his intense eagerness to see what would happen. “Oh! there was that whine again, Hugh! Mebbe you’ll believe me after a bit. Mebbe you’ll give me credit for havin’ eyes in my head! Steady now, old wireless! A few more steps, and you’re bound to strike something or I’ll eat my hat!” This sort of talk was well calculated to increase the manifest nervousness of Arthur, but he was at least game to the backbone, not dreaming of showing the white feather, the thing above all others that any ordinary boy dreads to do. Hugh pressed a little closer to the leader. He wanted to be on hand for what was going to happen, no matter whether this turned out to be along tragic or comical lines. And besides, Arthur was visibly trembling, as though he needed some strong arm to back him up. If he felt Hugh touching his elbow it would doubtless afford him more or less comfort. Then Arthur, with set jaws, summoning all his resolution to the fore, made the last step needed to take him around that bend in the trail where the tall bushes seemed to shut out what lay beyond. No sooner had he done so than he seemed to be changed into stone, for he stood there like a statue carved out of marble, staring at something that lay just beyond. Billy came pushing up just in time to hear the pilot of the expedition gasp: “Look! look, Hugh! Is that really a bear, or am I seeing things I shouldn’t?” When the scout master had taken a second look he made a discovery that seemed to afford him more or less satisfaction, for he immediately called out: “It’s a live bear, all right, Arthur. Billy wasn’t dreaming, it seems. Look closer and you’ll find that the poor thing is tied to that tree with a rope; and chances are it’s the performing bear I heard was over at Salem last week!” At that both of the other boys breathed freely once more. Billy puffed out his chest, filled with pride because his astonishing declaration had at least been proven true. |
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