Майн Рид
Bruin: The Grand Bear Hunt

Chapter Twenty Four.
The Ambuscade

True to his promise, the izzard-hunter awoke them about an hour before dawn; and having saddled and bridled their animals, they mounted and rode off. Among the great tree trunks it was very dark; but the hunter knew the ground; and, after groping along for half a mile farther, and somewhat slowly, they arrived at the base of a cliff. Keeping along this for some distance farther, they came at length to the place of their destination – the mouth of the cave. Even through the gloom, they could see a darker spot upon the face of the rock, which indicated the entrance. It was of no great size – about large enough to admit the body of a man in a stooping attitude – but the hunter was under the impression that it widened inward, and led to a grand cavern. He drew his inference, not from having ever explored this particular cave, but from knowing that there were many others of a similar kind in that part of the mountains, where the limestone formation was favourable to such cavities. Had it been only a hole just big enough for the den of a bear, he would have acted very differently – then there would have been a hope of drawing Bruin out with the dogs; but if the place was an actual cavern, where the beast might range freely about, she hunter knew there would be no chance of getting him out. Their presence outside once suspected, the bear might remain for days within his secure fortress; and a siege would have to be laid, which would be a tedious affair, and might prove fruitless in the end.

For this reason, great caution had been observed as they drew near the cave. They feared that they might come upon the bear, by chance wandering about in the woods, – that he might hear them, and, taking the alarm, scamper back to his cavern.

Acting under this apprehension, they had left their animals a good way off – having tied them to the trees – and had approached the cave on foot, without making the slightest noise, and talking to each other only in whispers.

The izzard-hunter now proceeded to put his designs into execution. While the others had been sleeping, he had prepared a large torch, out of dry splinters of the stone pine; and now quietly igniting this, set it in the ground near the base of the cliff. The moment the bright flame illuminated the entrance to the cave, all stood with their guns in hand ready to fire. They were not sure that Bruin had gone out at all. He might still be a-bed. If so, the light of the torch might wake him up and tempt him forth; therefore it was best to be prepared for such a contingency.

The izzard-hunter now slipped his dogs, which up to this time he had held securely in the leash. As soon as they were free, the well-trained animals, knowing what was expected of them, rushed right into the care.

For some seconds the dogs kept up a quick continuous yelping, and their excited manner told that they at least scented a bear: but the question to be determined was, whether the brute was still in his den.

The hunter had surmised correctly. The aperture conducted to a real cavern, and a very large one – as could be told by the distance at which the yelping of the dogs was heard. Out of such a place it would have been hopeless to have thought of starting a bear – unless it should please Bruin to make a voluntary exit. It was, therefore, with no little anxiety that the hunters listened to the “tongue” of the dogs, as it echoed within the cavernous hollow.

They all knew that if the bear should prove to be inside, the dogs would soon announce the fact by their barking, and other fierce sounds characteristic of canine strife.

They were not kept long in suspense; for, after an interval of less than a minute, both dogs came running out, with that air of disappointment that told of their having made an idle exploration.

Their excited movements, however, proved that the scent of the bear was fresh – that he had only recently forsaken his den – for the dogs had been heard scratching among the sticks and grass that composed it; but this only showed clearly that his habitation was untenanted, and Bruin was “not at home.”

This was just what the izzard-hunter desired; and all of them laying aside their guns, proceeded to close up the entrance. This was an easy task. Loose boulders lay around, and with these a battery was soon built across the mouth of the cavern, through which no animal could possibly have made an entrance.

The hunters now breathed freely. They felt certain they had cut off the retreat of the bear; and unless he should suspect something wrong, and fail to return to his cave, they would be pretty sure of having a shot at him.

Nothing remained but to place themselves in ambush, and wait for his coming. How to conceal themselves became the next consideration. It was a question, too, of some importance. They knew not which way the bear might come. He might see them while approaching, and trot off again before a shot could be fired? To prevent this some extraordinary measure must be adopted.

A plan soon presented itself to the practised hunter of the Pyrenees. Directly in front of the cliff grew several large trees. They were of the pinus sylvestris, and thickly covered with bunches of long needle-shaped leaves. If they should climb into these trees, the leaves and branches would sufficiently conceal them, and the bear would hardly suspect their presence in such a situation.

The suggestion of their guide was at once acted upon. Ivan and Pouchskin got into one tree, while the izzard-hunter and Alexis chose another; and all having secured places where they could command a view of the walled-up entrance without being themselves seen, they waited for daylight and the coming back of the bear.

Chapter Twenty Five.
A Bear in a Bird’s Nest

For the light they had not long to wait. The day broke almost as soon as they had got well settled in their places; but the bear was likely to delay them a little longer – though how long it was impossible to guess, since his return to his sleeping quarters might depend on many contingencies.

Formerly the Pyrenean bears – so the izzard-hunter said – were often met with ranging about in the day-time; but that was when they were more numerous, and less hunted. Now that they were scarce, and their skins so highly prized – which, of course, led to their becoming scarcer every day, and more shy too – they rarely ever left their hiding-place except during the night, and in this way they contrived to escape the vigilance of the hunters. As to the one they were waiting for, the hunter said he might return earlier or later, according to whether he had been much chased of late.

The exact time of his return, however, was soon after ascertained, by the bear himself making his appearance right under their noses.

All at once, and in the most unexpected manner, the great quadruped came shuffling up to the mouth of the cave. He was evidently moving under some excitement, as if pursued, or alarmed by something he had seen in the woods. It was perhaps the sight of the horses, or else the scent of the hunters themselves – on whose track he appeared to have come. Whatever it was, the party in the trees did not take time to consider, or rather the bear did not give them time; for, the moment he reached the entrance to his cave, and saw that it was blocked up, he gave utterance to a terrific scream expressing disappointment, and turning in his tracks, bounded off, as rapidly as he had come up!

The volley of four shots, fired from the trees, caused some of his fur to fly off; and he was seen to stagger, as if about to fall. The hunters raised a shout of triumph, thinking they had been successful; but their satisfaction was short-lived: for, before the echoes of their voices died along the cliff, the bear seemed once more to recover his equilibrium, and ran steadily on.

Once or twice he was seen to stop, and face round to the trees – as if threatening to charge towards them; but again resigning the intention, he increased his speed, went off at a lumbering gallop, and was soon lost to their sight.

The disappointed hunters rapidly descended from their perch; and letting loose the dogs, started off on the trail. Somewhat to their surprise, as well as gratification, it led near the place where they had left their animals; and as they came up to these, they had proofs of the bear having passed that way, by seeing all four, both ponies and mules, dancing about, as if suddenly smitten with madness. The ponies were “whighering,” and the mules squealing, so that their owners had heard them long before coming in sight of them. Fortunately the animals had been securely fastened – else there was no knowing whither they would have galloped, so panic-stricken did they appear.

Our hunters believed it a fortunate circumstance that the bear had gone that way; for the guide assured them that there was no telling where he would now stop; and as the chase might carry them for miles through the mountains, they would have been compelled to take to their saddles before starting upon it. The direction the bear had taken, therefore, was just the one most convenient for his pursuers.

Staying no longer than to untie their animals, they once more mounted, and kept after the dogs, whose yelping they could hear already some distance in the advance.

As the izzard-hunter said, the Pyrenean bear, like his Norwegian cousin, when started from his lair, often scours the country to a great distance before making halt – not unfrequently deserting the ravine or mountain-side, where he habitually dwells, and making for some other place, where he anticipates finding greater security.

In this way he often puts his pursuers at fault – by passing over rocky shingle, along ledges of cliffs, or up precipitous slopes, where neither men nor dogs can safely follow him. This was just what they now had to fear; for the guide well knew that the forest they were in was surrounded on almost every side by rocky cliffs; and if the bear should get up these, and make to the bald mountains above, they would stand a good chance of losing him altogether.

But one hope the hunter had. He had perceived – as indeed they all had – that several of their shots had hit the bear – and that he must be severely wounded to have staggered as he had done. For this reason he might seek a hiding-place in the forest, or perchance take to a tree. Cheered by this hope, the pursuers pushed onward.

The conjecture proved to be a just one; for before they had gone half a mile farther, a continuous barking sounded on their ears, which they knew to be that of the dogs. They knew, moreover, by this sign, that the bear had done one of three things – either taken to a tree, retreated into a cave, or come to a stand in the open ground, and was keeping the dogs at bay. Of the three conjectures, they desired that the first should prove the correct one; and from the manner in which the dogs were giving tongue, they had reason to hope that it would.

In effect, so it did; for, on getting a little closer, the two dogs were seen bounding about the roots of an enormous tree, at intervals springing up against its trunk, and barking at some object that had taken refuge in the branches above.

Of course, this object could only be the bear; and under this belief, the pursuers approached the tree – each holding his gun cocked and ready to fire.

When they had got quite up to the tree, and stood under it, no bear was to be seen! A large black mass was visible among the topmost branches; but this was not the body of a bear: it was something altogether different. The tree was one of gigantic size – the very largest they had seen in the whole forest; it was a pine, of the species sylvestris, with huge spreading limbs, and branches thickly covered with fascicles of long leaves. In many places the foliage was dark and dense enough to have afforded concealment to an animal of considerable size; but not one so bulky as a bear; and had there been nothing else but the leaves and branches to conceal him, a bear could not have found shelter in that tree without being visible from below. And yet a bear was actually in it – the very same bear they were in pursuit of – though not a bit of his body – not even the tip of his snout, was visible to the eyes of the hunters!

He was certainly there: for the dogs, who were not trusting to their eyes, but to that in which they placed far more confidence – their scent, – by their movements and behaviour, showed their positive belief that Bruin was in the tree.

Perhaps you will fancy that the pine was a hollow one, and that the bear had crept inside. Nothing of the kind: the tree was perfectly sound – not even a knot-hole was visible either in its trunk or limbs. It was not in a cavity that Bruin had been able to conceal himself.

There was no mystery whatever about their not seeing him: for as soon as the hunters got fairly under the tree, and looked up, they perceived, amidst its topmost branches, the dark object already mentioned; and as the bear could be seen nowhere else in the tree, this object accounted for his being invisible.

You will be wondering what it was; and so wondered our young hunters when they first raised their eyes to it. It looked more like a stack of faggots than aught else; and, indeed, very good faggots would it have made: since it consisted of a large mass of dry sticks and branches, resting in an elevated fork of the tree, and matted together into a solid mass. There were enough to have made a load for an ordinary cart, and so densely packed together, that only around the edges could the sky be seen through them; towards the centre, and for a diameter as large as a millstone, the mass appeared quite solid and black, not a ray of light passing through the interwoven sticks.

“The nest of a lammergeyer!” exclaimed the izzard-hunter, the moment his eye glanced up to it. “Just so! – my dogs are right: the bear has taken shelter in the nest of the birds!”

Chapter Twenty Six.
The Lammergeyers

This was evident to all. Bruin had climbed the tree, and was now snugly ensconced in the great nest of the vulture-eagles, though not a hair of his shaggy hide could be visible from below.

The hunters had no doubt about his being there. The chasseur was too confident in the instinct of his well-trained dogs to doubt them for a moment, and his companions had no reason to question a fact so very probable. Had there been any doubt, it would soon have been set aside, by an incident that occurred the moment after their arrival under the tree. As they stood looking upward, two great birds were seen upon the wing, rapidly swooping downward from on high. They were lammergeyers, and evidently the owners of the invaded nest. That the intruder was not welcome there, became apparent in the next moment; for both the birds were seen shooting in quick curves around the top branches of the tree, flapping their wings over the nest, and screaming with all the concentrated rage of creatures in the act of being plundered. Whether Bruin, in addition to his unwelcome presence, had also committed burglary, and robbed the eagles of their eggs or young, could not be told. If he had done so, he could not have received greater objurgation from the infuriated birds, that continued their noisy demonstrations, until a shot fired from below admonished them of the presence of that biped enemy far more dreaded than the bear. Then did they only widen the circle of their flight, still continuing to swoop down over the nest at intervals, and uttering their mingled cries of rage and lamentation.

The shot was from the gun of the izzard-hunter; but it was not till after he had been some time upon the ground that he had fired it. All four had previously dismounted and fastened their animals to the surrounding trees. They knew that the bear was in the nest; but although his retreat was now cut off, it was still not so certain that they should succeed in making a capture. Had the bear taken refuge in a fork, or even among thick branches, where their bullets might have reached him, it would have been a very different thing. They might then have brought him down at their pleasure, for if killed, or severely wounded, he must have fallen to the ground; but now – ah, now! what was to be done? The broad platform of the nest not only gave him a surface on which he could recline at his ease, but its thick mass formed a rampart through which not even a bullet would be likely to penetrate to his body!

How were they to reach him with their bullets? That was the next question that came under consideration. The odd shot had been fired as an experiment. It was fired in the hope that it might startle the bear, and cause him to shift his quarters – if only a little – so that some part of his body might be exposed; and while the izzard-hunter was discharging his piece, the others had stood watching for a chance. None was given to them, however. The bullet was heard striking the sticks, and caused the dust to puff out, but it produced no further effect – not a move was made by the occupant of that elevated eyrie.

Two or three more shots were fired with like effect; and the fusil of Pouchskin was next called into requisition, and brought to bear upon the nest. The large bullet crashed up among the dry sticks, scattering the fragments on all sides, and raising a cloud of dust that enveloped the whole top of the tree. But not a sign came from Bruin, to tell that it had disturbed him; not even a growl, to reward Pouchskin for the expenditure of his powder and lead. It was evident that this mode of proceeding could be of no service; and the firing was at once discontinued – in order that they might take into consideration some other plan of attack.

At first there appeared to be no way by which the bear might be ousted from his secure quarters. They might fire away until they should empty both their powder-horns and pouches, and all to no purpose. They might just as well fire their shots into the air. So far as their bullets were concerned, the bear might bid them defiance – a cannon shot alone could have gone through his strong rampart of sticks.

What could they do to get at him? To climb up and assail him where he lay was not to be thought of – even could they have climbed into the nest. On the firm ground, none of them would have liked to risk an encounter with the enemy, much less upon such insecure footing as a nest of rotten sticks. But they could not have got into the nest, however bent upon such a thing. Its wide rim extended far beyond the supporting branches; and only a monkey, or the bear himself, could have clambered over its edge. To a human being, ascent to the nest would have been not only difficult, but impossible; and no doubt the instinct of the eagles guided them to this while they were constructing it. Not for a moment, then, did our hunters think of climbing up to their eyrie.

What, then, were they to do? The only thing they could think of was to cut down the tree. It would be a great undertaking: for the trunk was several feet in diameter; and as they had only one axe, and that not a very sharp one, it would be a work of time. They might be days in felling that gigantic pine; and even when down, the bear might still escape from them – for it did not follow that the fall of the tree would result in the consummation of his capture. It might swing over gradually and easily, or, striking against others, let the bear down without doing him the slightest damage; and in the confusion consequent on its fall, he would have a good chance of getting off.

These considerations caused them to hesitate about cutting down the tree, and reflect whether there might not be some easier and more effective method for securing the skin of the bear.

Chapter Twenty Seven.
Firing the Eyrie

After beating their brains, for some time to no purpose, an exclamation from the izzard-hunter at length announced that some happy idea had occurred to him. All eyes were at once turned towards him; while the voice of Ivan was quickly heard, interrogating him as to the object of his exclamation.

“I’ve got a plan, young monsieur!” replied the hunter, “by which I’ll either force the bear to come down, or roast him up yonder where he lies. Parbleu! I’ve got an excellent idea!”

“What is it? what is it?” eagerly inquired Ivan; though from what the izzard-hunter had said, he already half comprehended the design.

“Patience, young monsieur! in a minute you shall see!”

All three now gathered around the chasseur, and watched his movements.

They saw him pour a quantity of gunpowder into the palm of his hand; and then tear a strip of cotton rag from a large piece which he had drawn out of his pouch. This he saturated with saliva and then coated it over with the powder. He next proceeded to rub both rag and powder together – until, after a considerable friction between the palms of his hands, the cotton became once more dry, and was now thoroughly saturated with the powder, and quite blackened with it.

The next proceeding on the part of the chasseur was to procure a small quantity of dead moss, which was easily obtained from the trunks of the surrounding trees; and this, mixed with a handful or two of dry grass, he rolled up into a sort of irregular clew.

The man now felt in his pouch; and, after a little fumbling there, brought forth a small box that was seen to contain lucifer-matches. Seemingly satisfied with their inspection, he returned the box to its place, and then made known the object for which all these preliminary manoeuvres had been practised. Our young hunters had already more than half divined it, and it only confirmed their anticipations when the hunter declared his intention to climb the tree and set fire to the nest. It is needless to say that one and all of them approved of the scheme, while they admired its originality and cunning. Its boldness, too, did not escape their admiration, for it was clearly a feat of daring and danger. The bottom of the nest might be reached easily enough; for though a tall tree, it was by no means a difficult one to climb. There were branches all along its trunk from bottom to top; and to a Pyrenean hunter, who, when a boy, as he told them, had played pigeon vidette in one of the “crows’ nests” they had seen, the climbing of such a tree was nothing. It was not in this that the danger lay, but in something very different. It was in the contingency, that, while up in the branches, and before he could effect his purpose, the bear might take a fancy to come down. Should he do so, then, indeed, would the life of the venturesome hunter be in deadly peril.

He made light of the matter, however, and, warning the others to get their guns ready and stand upon their guard, he sprang forward to the trunk, and commenced “swarming” upward.

Almost as rapidly as a bear itself could have ascended, the izzard-hunter glided up the tree, swinging himself from branch to branch, and resting his naked feet – for he had thrown off his shoes – on knots and other inequalities, where no branch offered. In this way he at length got so close to the nest, that he could without difficulty thrust his hand into the bottom of it.

He was now seen drawing forth a number of the dry sticks, and forming a cavity near the lower part of the huge mass. He operated with great silence and circumspection – taking all the care he could not to make his presence known to the bear, nor in any way disturb whatever dreams or reflections Bruin might then be indulging in.

In a short time he had hollowed out a little chamber among the sticks – just large enough for his purpose, – and, taking the ball of dry grass out of his pouch, he loosened it a little, and then placed it within the cavity.

It was but the work of another minute to light a lucifer-match, and set fire to the long strips of tinder rag that hung downwards from the grass.

This done, the izzard-hunter swung himself to the next branch below; and, even faster than he had gone up, he came scrambling down the trunk.

Just as he reached the ground, the grass was seen catching; and amidst the blue smoke that was oozing thickly out of the little chamber, and slowly curling up around the edges of the nest, a red blaze could be distinguished – accompanied with that crackling noise that announces the kindling of a fire.

The four hunters stood ready, watching the progress of the little flame – at the same time directing their glances around the rim of the nest.

They had not long to wait for the dénouement. The smoke had already caught the attention of the bear; and the snapping of the dry faggots, as they came in contact with the blazing grass, had awakened him to a sense of his dangerous situation.

Long before the blaze had mounted near him, he was seen craning his neck over the edge of the nest; first on one side, then on another, and evidently not liking what he saw. Once or twice he came very near having a bullet sent at his head; but his restlessness hindered them from getting a good aim, and for the time he was left alone.

Not for long, however: for he did not much longer remain upon his elevated perch. Whether it was the smoke that he was unable longer to endure, or whether he knew that the conflagration was at hand, does not clearly appear; but from his movements it was evident the nest was getting too hot to hold him.

And no doubt it was too hot at that crisis. Had he remained in it but two minutes longer, an event would have occurred that would have ruined everything. The bear would either have been roasted to a cinder; or, at all events, his skin would have been singed, and, of course, completely spoilt for the purpose for which it was required!

Up to this moment that thought had never occurred to the young hunters; and now that it did occur, they stood watching the movements of the bear with feelings of keen apprehension. A shout of joy was heard both from Alexis and Ivan as the great quadruped was seen springing out from the smoke, and clutching to a thick branch that traversed upward near the nest. Embracing the branch with his paws, he commenced descending stern foremost along the limb; but a more rapid descent was in store for him. Out of the four bullets fired into his body, one at least must have reached a mortal part; for his forearms were seen to relax their hold, his limbs slipped from the bark, and his huge body came “bump” to the ground, where it lay motionless as a log and just as lifeless.

Meanwhile the flames enveloped the nest, and in five minutes more the whole mass was on fire, blazing upward like a beacon. The dry sticks snapped and crackled – the pitchy branches of the pine hissed and spurted – the red cinders shot out like stars, and came showering down to the earth – while high overhead could be heard the vengeful cries of the vultures, as they saw the destruction of their aerial habitation.

But the hunters took no heed of all this. Their task was accomplished, or nearly so. It only remained to divest Bruin of his much-coveted skin; and, having done this in a skilful and proper manner, they mounted their roadsters, and once more took their route across the mountains.

On reaching the first village on the Spanish side, they parted with the expert izzard-hunter and his hired charge – having well remunerated him for his threefold service, each branch of which he had performed to their entire satisfaction.