CHAPTER XIII. BOYS AND A GRIZZLY.

Hardware and Persimmons found pretty much the same traveling as Ralph. But not as experienced as he in following a trail, they did not advance so fast. Luckily, as it so fell out for them, the pony that they were trailing was one known as White-eye. He was a harum-scarum sort of a brute, and for that reason Mountain Jim had fastened round his neck, the night before, a lariat with a heavy stone attached to it. The stone had left a plainly swept path through the woods, and except in one or two baffling places the boys had followed it without much difficulty.

Instead of keeping to the open mountain side, like Ralph’s quarry, White-eye had made his way up a gully that cut deep into the hills, leading in a diagonal slash to the north. The two lads followed[125] the bottom of the gully as far as it led and then, still following the trail of the stone attached to White-eye’s neck, they made their way up a rough, rock-strewn slope to the summit of the ridge.

Unlike the country Ralph had struck, Hardware and his companion found themselves, on the summit of the ridge, in a forest of white birch and shady green timber, amidst which the sunlight filtered down cheerfully. Passing through this they emerged on a rocky hillside thickly grown with “scotch-caps,” or sackatoons, Rocky Mountain blueberries and snake berries, while under foot was a carpet of red heather.

The boys ate heartily of the blueberries and scotch caps, but one taste of the snake berries was enough for them. They were bitter and nauseating to a degree, although Mountain Jim had told them that bears preferred them to any other berry.

“No accounting for tastes,” commented Hardware[126] in this connection, “and speaking of bears, I wonder if there are any hereabouts?”

“Bucking blueberries, I hope not,” exclaimed Persimmons, looking about him in some trepidation. “I’d like to have Mountain Jim along if we are going to run into anything like that.”

“This looks like the sort of country he said bears frequented,” was Hardware’s response. “I don’t see why we should be scared to meet one, either.”

“I suppose you’d go right up and say ‘Goodmorning, bear,’” snorted Persimmons.

“Well, we’ve got our rifles, and they are supposed to be powerful enough to bring down any bear, and——”

“Howling hammerheads, what’s the matter now?”

The question was a natural one, for Hardware had stopped short and was staring ahead of them down the steep hillside.

[127]

“Why, something’s moving down there. It may be a bear. Get your rifle ready.”

Hardware’s face took on a determined expression and he looked to the mechanism of his rifle and slipped a magazine into place. Persimmons did the same, muttering to himself as he did so that it was no use fighting a bear, and that they’d better give Bruin a wide berth.

But the next instant their anxiety was relieved and gave place to high good humor. The object Hardware had spied moving among the rocks and brambles was not a grizzly, but the recreant White-eye, cropping the grass as he moved about.

Suddenly he looked up and saw the boys. With upraised head and pricked ears he watched their advance.

“Goodness! I hope he will let us get near him,” said Hardware. “I don’t much fancy a chase through this sort of country.”

“He looks as wild as a hawk,” was his companion’s response.

[128]

Indeed White-eye did not appear as if he meant to be docilely captured.

As the boys cautiously crept forward, trying to avoid any action that might startle him, the pony rolled his eyes back in the manner that had given him his name and extended his nostrils, sniffing the air suspiciously. Both boys had brought along some grain in their pockets, out of the supply carried for emergencies, and now Hardware dipped his hand into his pocket and extended it, full of oats, for White-eye’s inspection.

But seemingly, the pony had no mind to be caught just then. He gave a plunge and snort and dashed off.

“Oh, gracious!” groaned Hardware. “There he goes, lickety-split; it doesn’t look as if we’d ever catch him.”

“Howling hen-roosts, no!” gasped Persimmons, who had just barked his shin on a sharp rock. “And I tell you one thing, Hardware, I’m[129] not going to chase very far after him. Hullo, what’s he doing now?”

White-eye had paused with startling suddenness in his mad career, and the next minute the boys realized what had caused his abrupt stoppage. His long tether, with the stone attached, had caught around the stump of a sage bush as it bounded down the hill, and twisted round the stump two or three times had captured the runaway as effectually as if he had been tied by human hands.

“Well, that’s what I call luck,” declared Hardware fervently.

“It’s all of that and then some,” responded Persimmons puffingly.

“Let’s hurry up, he may get loose again,” urged his companion, and the two boys hastened forward regardless of brambles or rocks.

In a jiffy they had the lariat untied and were holding tightly on to it, prepared for another wild dash on the part of White-eye. But now[130] that they had hold of the rope, the pony appeared, with equine wisdom, to perceive that further resistance was useless. He followed docilely enough while they led him up the hillside.

“I hope the others have had as good luck,” remarked Hardware as they trudged along.

“I hope so, too,” responded Persimmons, “I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy any more of this kind of work than could be helped.”

But just as they were congratulating themselves on the easy capture of the stray a sudden demon appeared to enter White-eye’s being. He started leaping and bucking and snorting as if possessed.

“What on earth is the matter with him now?” gasped Hardware in wonderment.

“Bucking beefsteaks, he acts like he had a bad tummy ache,” exclaimed Persimmons; “maybe he’s been eating some of those snake berries. They’re enough to make anybody cut up if he takes too many of them, and one’s a-plenty—wow! Look! Harry! Look there!”

... a great brown form arose on its hind legs and stood looking at them.—Page 131.

[131]

The cause of White-eye’s sudden alarm became startlingly apparent. From a patch of blueberries just ahead of them, where he had evidently been feeding, a great brown form arose on its hind legs and stood looking at them.

“A g-g-g-g-grizzly!” yelled Hardware, quite forgetting his rifle that was slung over his back by a bandolier.

“Run! Run for your life!” shouted Persimmons, equally forgetful of his weapon, which, in order to lead White-eye, he had been compelled to sling over his shoulders in a similar way.

The bear dropped on all fours and began coming toward them without undue haste, but with a sort of deadly deliberation.