Chapter XIV: A Brilliant Exploit with an Umbrella

We will now follow the naturalist, and see what had befallen him.

When he left his comrades, he wandered around in every direction, his keen little eyes peering into every corner.

Now and then he would spring forward and gently pull up a modest looking weed (to all appearance), and examine it eagerly.

Suddenly a scream of delight broke from his lips, and he leaped over at least eight feet of ground, and knelt beside a new kind of herb. With trembling fingers he examined it, giving vent to various exclamations of surprise and joy at the discovery.

“_Sacré_, I have found de plant at last. I am von famous man, an’ de society will make me dere President, vid a salary of thousands of francs. Oh, Monsieur Tierney is von big man. I have found vat I comes to Ameriky to hunt for, an’ I is satisfied. Begar, vat vill dat rival of mine, Bedoubsky, say? He vill be von very mad man ven he sees me President. Mon Dieu, I am von happy man,” cried the Frenchman, as he tenderly pulled up the modest, but in after years, famous herb, by the roots, and put it into his case.

Long and earnestly did he look at it, as it lay in the receptacle which had been long waiting to receive its almost priceless form.

Noon had long since passed, and the Frenchman, too happy to think of such vile things as food, had not touched the meat that he had put in his pocket before leaving the camp.

His thoughts were running into the future, and he was building all sorts of castles in the air, in respect to his fine prospects.

These were suddenly tumbled to the ground by a low growl, which sounded close beside him.

Instantly the naturalist turned, and saw, to his great surprise, a huge black bear, coming directly toward him.

He had the presence of mind to slam the lid of the case, and as it had a spring-lock, it was fastened securely.

Springing to his feet, the little naturalist looked around for a tree which he could climb and remain in, until old Bruin should choose to depart.

The bear did not seem to be very hungry, and the Frenchman might not have to wait very long for it to go away, after all. The only tree anywhere near him was the one at the foot of which he had found the strange herb, and under which he was now standing. He resolved to climb up among the branches, and to remain there until the bear was gone.

No sooner thought of than acted upon.

Seizing a branch, the lowest on the tree, he pulled himself, umbrella and all, up among the limbs.

The tree was a very singular-looking one. One side was entirely destitute of branches, except at the top. Here a pretty large limb shot straight out, and as this was bare and half dead, it looked like an arm. This limb was very nearly eighty feet from the ground. The other side of the tree had limbs, large and small in abundance, _up to the dead limb_. Above this the tree was rotten, and full of the holes made by wood-peckers.

The bear came slowly up to the spot where the monsieur had been seated, and began smelling around.

The Frenchman, for the first time, began to realize that he was hungry, and so he took out his meat and began to eat it, taking care not to attract the notice of the huge bear.

Five minutes passed and then the Frenchman happened to cast his eyes upon the bear. A shrill cry of rage came from his lips as he saw Bruin rolling his precious case around, and trying to break it open. His unfinished dinner dropped to the ground, and he yelled at the bear with all his might, using all the French words he could manage to get out, and mingling them with English in a terrible way.

This jargon had no more effect on Bruin than a fly would.

He took a look at the speaker, as if astonished to hear such a jumbling of languages, and then proceeded with his fun, as he deemed the rolling the case around, but to the little naturalist it was agony.

Suddenly the other bethought himself of his revolver.

Drawing it out, he took aim at the big bear and fired.

Again and again he shot, and at length the little pistol was empty.

The effect upon the bear was about the same as a small load of shot would have been. The bullets drew blood but they did not disable the bear in the least.

They hurt, however, and the bear made a dash at the tree in which his enemy was seated, and began to ascend.

The naturalist, seeing that it would not do to stay where he was, seized hold of a limb above him, and pulled himself up.

Up, up he went, the bear following after, in a great rage. Yard after yard was passed over, and the little man was near to the top of the tree.

He glanced nervously about him, but there seemed to be no escape.

He was on the last limb, and above him was the dead trunk of the tree, and the half-dead limb which stretched out on the bare side of the tree.

What could he do? It certainly looked as though his last moment had come. The bear was just below him and in another moment would be up with him.

It was just at this critical moment that our friends came in sight of the tree, although a good distance off.

At first they knew not what to make of what they saw.

The naturalist was in plain sight, but the bear was on the other side of the tree, and in among the branches, therefore they did not see him.

While they were wondering what was the cause of the little man’s strange actions, they caught sight of the bear.

Then they knew at once what was the matter.

“Heavens, the French Parley Voo is gone up. We can’t never git a crack at the varmint, an’ the mounseer is bound to be caught, ’less he jumps off, an’ that’s certain death. Look thar; did ye ever see the beat o’ that fur coolness. The cuss is a-straddlin’ the limb, an’ workin’ his way out, a-holdin’ the umbrella above his head, to keep the sun off. I’d go my bottom dollar on him fur pluck.”

It was indeed true. Monsieur Tierney was sitting on the half-dead limb, and edging his way out toward the end of it.

Above his head he held his huge umbrella, as if to keep shady.

In the eyes of the three friends it was the very essence of pluck.

The bear was creeping slowly and cautiously after him, stopping now and then to look around it. Once, it tried to go back, but it found it was no go, and that it was easier to go forward, so it kept on, thinking, probably, that it could go where the naturalist could.

It was a strange and fearful sight.

They were about eighty feet above the earth, and as it seemed, only a piece of rotten wood between the Frenchman and eternity.

The three men thought that their comrade was only showing his recklessness, when he raised his umbrella, as if to keep the sun off.

They did not think that he was following out a brilliant idea, which at the last moment had flashed into his mind.

The bear kept crawling out, and as the Frenchman had to keep out of his reach, he had to keep edging away until at length he was as far as he dared to go.

Then, greatly to the surprise of his friends, he rose to his feet, holding onto the handle of his umbrella with both hands.

What was he about to do?

This question which the three asked themselves did not remain long unanswered, for the Frenchman began to move.

“Look at the pesky leetle cuss. He’s dancing on the limb, by the highfalutin’ gimcracks. He’s tryin’ ter bu’st it!— Thar she goes. He’s a dead man, by heavens,” said Ralph.

The Frenchman had by his jumping broken the limb, and like a flash, both bear and limb came to the ground, the former killed, and the latter broken into a thousand pieces.

The three men followed the large body in its descent with their eyes.

That the naturalist was dead, they felt certain. He could never survive that fall.

The three men looked at the body on the ground, but to their surprise could see no Frenchman.

Where could he be? He could not have saved himself by catching hold of any of the branches, for there were none on that side of the tree.

Barry, convulsed with laughter, which seemed very strangely out of place, pointed up into the air, as if to explain his untimely mirth.

The others looked, and instantly the expression on their faces changed from the serious to the comic. And no wonder. There was the light little naturalist coming down, sailing slowly and majestically toward the ground, and holding with both hands to his large umbrella.

His brilliant idea had proved a success.