Chapter IV: The Bear Canyon Bear

"Gee!" cried Alden Winthrop. "I wish I was out there!"

"So do I!" echoed his brother John.

"I wish I _were_, dear," corrected his mother.

"Well, _were_, then, Mother. There isn't much difference in the way you say it. I wish I was there anyway!"

His mother sighed, but Alden's thoughts were far from English grammar. Instead, they were centering upon the contents of a fat letter from his sister Priscilla, which his father had just read.

"I've got more respect for Priscilla than I ever had in all my life," he continued. "I never supposed she'd have sand enough to go on a bear hunt. Now, if she'd just shot the bear herself, it would be----"

"Why, Alden!" interrupted his mother. "Imagine Priscilla doing a thing like that! You don't suppose, do you, dear," she continued, turning to Mr. Winthrop, who was reading his daughter's letter for a second time while he finished his breakfast, "you don't suppose Priscilla is really handling a gun herself?"

"Sounds like it to me," said Priscilla's father as he turned the pages. "She says, 'I can knock a bottle all to pieces at thirty yards. Don't you call that pretty good?'"

"I'd like to know the size of the bottle before replying," commented John.

"Dear me!" said Mrs. Winthrop anxiously. "I'm willing she should ride horseback and climb mountains and camp in a perfect wilderness if that's what Western people term pleasure, but I do wish she wouldn't shoot a gun! I'm afraid I shan't have a minute's real peace till she gets home. Of course I know she's in the best of hands, but accidents are so common. Just yesterday I was reading where----"

"Now, Mother!" remonstrated the boys.

"Don't worry for a moment, Mother," reassured Mr. Winthrop. "She'll come home safe and sound. I'll trust those good people out there to look after her." He turned the pages again. "She's certainly having the time of her life! Makes me wish I were young again myself!"

"That skin will look splendid in the library," said Alden. "Read again what she says about sending it, Dad."

"Read it all, Dad!" suggested John. "There's plenty of time."

Priscilla's father willingly complied. He evidently shared his sons' pride in his daughter's achievement.

"'HUNTER RANCH, WYOMING,
"'July 26, 19--.

"'Dear Folks at Home:

"'I am covered with dust and dirt and just dead tired, but I can't
wash or dress, or even rest until I tell you the most thrilling
experience of my whole life! I, Priscilla Winthrop of Boston,
Massachusetts, have helped to trap and kill a bear! I know shivers
are running down your back as you read this. Imagine then what it
must have been to live through the _real thing!_ To ride up the
trail all eagerness and excitement; to visit the empty traps and turn
away disappointed; to see your horse as you neared the third suddenly
prick up his ears and rear----'"

"Dear me!" cried Mrs. Winthrop. "I'm sure, John, those horses out there aren't well-broken!"

Mr. Winthrop nodded reassuringly, and continued:

"'To hear Dick call back that there must surely be a bear; and, at
last, to come upon the infuriated monster, dragging his trap about,
gnashing his teeth, and trying to reach you!'"

"Oh, dear!" moaned poor Mrs. Winthrop.

"Go ahead!" cried the boys.

"'I trust you are now in the atmosphere to appreciate my story.

"'I wrote you this morning about the lovely getting-acquainted trip
to Lone Mountain. Well, I had just come back from walking down to the
main road and giving my letter to the carrier, who drives in a funny
little canvas house on wheels, when Dick and William rode up to the
door and asked if we girls didn't want to ride up into the mountains
back of Bear Canyon and visit the bear-traps. Mr. Hunter and the
three boys had gone to Willow Creek, but it's a fifty mile ride over
there and back, and he thought it was too much for Mary and Vivian
and me--much as we wanted to go.'"

"Fifty miles on horseback!" murmured Mrs. Winthrop. "I should hope so!"

"'Virginia had insisted on staying with us, and Aunt Nan (we all call
her that now) had gone to Mystic Lake with Donald's brother, so we
four girls were all alone. Virginia said "Yes" on the spot, and Mary
and I were wild at the prospect. Vivian's eyes got big when Dick said
"bear-traps," but she wouldn't let us know she was afraid. Really,
you'd be surprised at what a good sport Vivian's getting to be.

"'We said we'd be ready in a minute and hurried into our riding
clothes while Dick and William went to saddle our horses. All the
time we kept fairly _pelting_ Virginia with questions. _Where were
the traps? What did they look like? Did she really think we'd get a
bear?_ She wouldn't tell us much of anything, except that bears were
not uncommon at all, and that the men liked to get them, because they
were a nuisance to the cattle. I think we were all seized with
different feelings as we got ready. Vivian's came out and sat upon
her face. You just knew she was hoping every bear in the Rockies had
been safe at home for a week; Mary kept saying the trip up the trail
would be so beautiful, but something told you she was secretly hoping
for a greater adventure; and I--well, I couldn't decide between the
triumph of bringing a real bear home, and the awfulness of seeing one
caught and killed.

"'In half an hour we were off. Hannah had given us each some
sandwiches in a bundle, which we rolled in our slickers and tied on
our saddles. Dick carried the big gun in a holster, and William a
coil of rope. Instead of turning off on the Lone Mountain trail we
went farther up the canyon, past the little school-house where
Virginia used to go, and on toward where the canyon walls were great
cliffs instead of foot-hills. It certainly was the _beariest-looking_
place I have ever seen. You could just imagine hundreds of them
taking sun-baths on the rocks, surrounded by their devoted families.

"'By and by we turned into a rocky, precipitous trail, and went
higher and higher. It was much steeper than on the getting-acquainted
trip. Sometimes it just seemed as though the horses couldn't make it,
but they did. My horse is a perfect wonder! He never hesitates at
anything. His name is Cyclone!'"

"I trust it has nothing to do with his disposition," interrupted Mrs. Winthrop.

"'At noon we were in a perfect wilderness of huge trees, great jagged
rocks, and thickets almost as bad as the one Theseus went through to
reach Ariadne. William insisted on building a tiny fire to cook
bacon, so we rustled some dry sticks and made a little one on a flat
rock. I never in all my life tasted anything so good as that bacon
and Hannah's sandwiches and some ice-cold water from a little creek
that was tearing down the mountain-side.

"'Dick said as we rested for a moment that it would take us fifteen
minutes to reach the first trap from that spot. It was the most
likely place of the three to find a bear, he added, and at that Mary,
Vivian, and I tried our best to look as unconcerned as though
catching a bear were the most usual thing in all the world. But when
we had reached the place, after a hard ride through a narrow trail
bordered by all kinds of prickly things, we found no bear in the
queer little log-house that held the trap. Neither was there one in
the trap a mile distant.

"'When we turned away from the second, bearless and tired, every one
of us, except perhaps Vivian, felt a sense of defeat. My fears of
seeing one caught had vanished. I had borne sunburn and scratches and
lameness and I wanted a bear. So did Mary. She was not content with
just scenery. Virginia had caught bears before, but she wanted one
because we did, and William wanted one because Virginia did. William
never seems to want much for himself some way, but he loves Virginia,
and I think Virginia loves him next best to Jim. As for Dick--there
was no mistaking Dick's feeling. He felt as though he had not done
his duty by us since there had been no bear in the two most likely
traps.

"'The question before the assembly now was--Should we or should we
not visit the third trap? It might be dark, William said, before we
got out of the canyon, and there wasn't one chance in a hundred of a
bear anyway. Virginia--really, she is the biggest peach I ever
knew!--proposed that she ride home with Vivian, and the others of us
go on with Dick and William, but Vivian would not listen to her.
There having been no bears in the first two traps was proof enough
for Vivian that there would be none in the last, and her bravery
returned. Mary wanted to go on, and I wouldn't have gone home for a
thousand dollars or a trip abroad! As for Dick, he was already
half-way up the trail.

"'This trail was far steeper than either of the others. It led almost
straight up the mountain-side beneath over-hanging trees, under
fallen timber, and through every kind of bramble imaginable. But
there was something exhilarating about even the brambles--something
that made you glad to hear the saddle crunch and whine and creak, and
to feel yourself being carried higher and higher. It wasn't all the
hope of a bear either!

"'At last we came to a little creek, which was hurling itself down
over the rocks.

"'"Moose Creek!" Dick called back. "The trap's one-half a mile
farther on."

"'On we went, growing more and more excited every moment. Something
strange seemed to be in the air. I don't know what it was, but the
horses must have felt it, too, for just as we had cleared an
especially thick thicket, my Cyclone began to prick up his ears and
to sniff the air, and Dick's horse reared. Then, in a moment, the
others began to be restive. Even old Siwash, who is lame and halt and
maimed and blind like the parable people at the feast, actually
jumped, much to Vivian's horror.

"'I just wish you could have felt the shivers and thrills and quivers
that ran down our backs when Dick halted the procession and cried,

"'"There's a bear around all right! The horses smell him! We'll turn
back and tie, and then go on foot!"

"'Five minutes more and we were stumbling up the trail--Dick and
William ahead, Virginia and I next, and Mary and Vivian in the rear.
I don't know where my heart was, but I know it was unfastened, for I
distinctly felt it in a dozen different places! Vivian had actually
forgotten to be frightened, and Mary kept saying over and over again,
"Just think of it! Just think of it! A bear! Just think of it!" As
for Virginia, she strode along with her head high, just as she always
does, and looked as though she were able to cope with any grizzly on
earth.

"'We gained the clearing almost as soon as Dick and William,
and--now, listen, all of you!--there was our bear!!! I'll never
forget that moment! I don't believe I'll ever in my life experience
so many different feelings--triumph and pity and fear and admiration,
all struggling together. The poor thing lay in the hot sun by the
creek, rods from the little log house which had concealed the trap,
and one of his forelegs was securely held in that cruel, iron grip. A
long, strong chain attached to some logs held the trap secure, though
bark was torn in layers and strips from the trees near by, whose
trunks the poor, mad, suffering animal had climbed--trap, chain, and
all. But now--nearly worn out--he lay in the creek, sick at heart and
ready to die.

"'As Dick drew the big gun from the holster, and went nearer, the
bear rose to his feet and growled--a fierce, awful growl that sent
Vivian trembling to the thicket. All I could think of just then was
Roland keeping at bay the Saracens at Roncesvalles, or Leonidas
withstanding the Persians at Thermopylae. There was something grand in
the way that big bear faced Dick. I shall always admire him for it as
long as I live. I rather believe he was glad to die as Leonidas and
Roland were--secure in the thought that his spirit could never be
overcome.

"'William turned his back as Dick raised the big gun, and made ready
to shoot. Then he said something about seeing to the horses, and
hurried down the trail. Mary joined Vivian in the thicket, and so did
I. I couldn't help it. We turned our backs, too, and stopped our ears
with our fingers. Virginia was the only one who stayed. She stood by
Dick as he aimed and shot. Afterward she told me she would have felt
mean to desert a hero whose spirit was just about to be taken away
from him. She wanted to pay her last respects. But I know it wasn't
easy, for when we all came tremblingly back a few minutes after Dick
had shot, her eyes were brimful of tears.

"'Then William, too, returned, leading Siwash, and together he and
Dick hoisted the big bear across Siwash's saddle, binding him
securely with the rope. After the horses had become satisfied that
there was no occasion for alarm, William led Siwash at the head of a
triumphal procession, and the rest of us followed, Vivian on
William's Ginger. Down the trail we went, unconscious of scratches
and aches and sunburn, now that our aim had been accomplished, and
our goal realized. The awful feeling of pity which we had felt by the
creek went away somewhere, and we were but victors holding a
triumph.

"'Virginia and I wondered as we rode along together why it is that
you can feel so full of pity one moment at the thought of killing
something, and yet so full of triumph the next after you've conquered
and killed it. We've decided that the triumphant feeling is something
bequeathed to us by the cave-men like those in _The Story of Ab_ you
know--an instinct that makes you want to prove yourself master; and
that the pity is a sign we're all growing better instead of worse.
Don't you think that's a fairly good explanation? Of course it is
needless to say that Virginia thought it out!

"'Hannah's calling me to supper, and I must hurry. Mr. Hunter and the
boys had just reached home from Willow Creek as we rode down the
lane. I wish you could have seen Jack and Carver when they saw the
bear. They were wild, and hailed us as though we were Augustus
entering Rome! Best of all, Mr. Hunter says he is going to send the
skin to you, Dad--it's all black and curly--for the library floor.
Isn't it splendid of him?

"'I simply must run and wash, and rustle a clean middy somewhere.

"'Loads of love,

"'PRISCILLA.

"'P. S.--Mother, dear, I guess I'll have to have still another
Thought Book. I never in my life had so many thoughts. They come
crowding in--one on top of the other--but many of them are the kind
you can't very well express.

"'P. A. W.

"'P. P. S.--I can shoot a bottle all to pieces at thirty yards. Don't
you call that pretty good?

"'P. A. W.'"

"Rustle?" soliloquized Mrs. Winthrop, as Priscilla's father folded the letter. "I've never heard that word before in such a connection, and she's used it twice!"

"Well," announced Alden Winthrop decidedly, "I've never had much use for Thought Books, but I believe I could write down a thought or two myself if I'd trapped a Rocky Mountain bear!"