CHAPTER XXXIV

_In the Hands of the Enemy_

Weary as they were with their over-energetic day's work, the boys went to bed early that night--all of them but Tom. That tireless Nimrod had found a bear's den the day before and was minded to go out and watch for the bear that inhabited it. "Your bear is a night prowler," he said, "and if I can catch this one going out of his den or into it to-night, I'll bring home a supply of meat. We're a trifle short of that commodity just now."

Several of the boys wanted to go with Tom, and the lieutenant, who had dined with them that evening, wanted to send two soldiers as his assistants.

"No," said Tom, "I don't want anybody with me. We'd inevitably talk, and then we'd never see a bear. I'll go alone."

With that he took his rifle and went out into the darkness, while the rest of the boys went to bed and to sleep.

As he neared the bear den which he had discovered during the day and identified by tracks, Tom moved very cautiously, making no noise, and, secreting himself between two rock masses, lay down to await developments.

Hour after hour passed, and there were none. Still Tom maintained an attitude of alert attention.

Presently a great light appeared over a spur of the mountain, in the direction of Camp Venture.

"There's something the matter over there," said Tom to himself, "but with all those soldiers there they don't need me half as much as they need a bear."

Just at that moment--it was about three o'clock in the morning--Tom heard a crackling of sticks near at hand, and a moment later a great black bear came waddling and lumbering along on his way to the den.

With that instinct of humorous perception which was strong in Tom, he could not help likening the belated beast to a convivial gentleman returning from his club in the small hours.

Then it occurred to him that convivial gentlemen under such circumstances are sometimes "held up" at their own door ways, a fact which still further heightened the resemblance between the two cases. It next occurred to Tom that should his shot prove ineffective or imperfectly effective, the bear might get the better of him, as convivial gentlemen sometimes do with footpads. For, from the point at which Tom was lying, there was no avenue of escape except directly in the path of the bear, and a wounded bear is about as ugly an enemy to encounter as it is possible to find anywhere.

"Moral:" said Tom to himself, "Don't shoot till you've got a bead on a vital point. Fortunately this rifle has an 'initial velocity' as they call it, which will send a bullet through the thickest skull that any animal in the world wears as a breastwork to his brains."

Of course Tom would have preferred to shoot at the animal's heart, but there was no chance to do that, for at that moment the great beast discovered his huntsman and presented his full front to him at a distance of less than ten feet. Another second and the bear would make mince meat of the boy. So Tom taking a hasty aim fired at the animal's forehead, and the bullet did its work so well that the beast fell instantly dead.

After waiting for a minute or so to see if any scratching capacity remained in his game, Tom went to the bear and after inspecting it muttered: "I've shot Ursa Major himself," for the bear was of unusual bulk, greatly the largest Tom had ever seen. "I wonder what the stars will look like now that the constellation of the Great Bear is done for."

The beast was much too heavy for Tom to carry or even drag to the camp. So he instantly set out in search of assistance. His plan was to go to the camp and secure three or four soldiers to assist him in transporting his game. But he had not gone far on his campward journey before he was "held up" by three mountaineers. Fortunately one of the party--apparently its leader--was his own particular mountaineer, the one whom he had set free and who had so generously repaid his favor with gifts of corn and rye meal.

"Now set down, little Tom," said the man; "we wants a little talk with you."

"All right," said Tom, "I'm ready."

"Well you see, you done tole me an' I done tole the other folks as how you boys had nothin' whatsomever to do with the revenue officers or the soldiers."

"That's all right," said Tom. "We haven't had anything to do with them, we haven't spied upon you fellows or molested you in any way."

"But there's a big gang o' soldiers an' revenue officers in your camp."

"Yes, I know that," said Tom. "But are we talking fair and square as we did before?"

"Yes, fa'r an' squar'," answered the man.

"Very well then, I'll tell you about this matter. We boys don't like your illegal occupation up here in the mountains, but it is none of our business. We have never spied out your stills and certainly we have given no information to the revenue officers."

"What did they come up here for then?" asked one of the mountaineer's companions.

"They came up to capture us. They had seen the lights of Camp Venture and had located us. So they thought they had a still sure, and they came up here to capture it. The first thing they did was to surround us and fire at us in the dark. I explained matters to them and they searched our camp all over. Then they decided to camp there till they could get some provisions from down below, and while they were waiting, they asked me to tell them where the stills were so that they might raid them for meal. I knew where some stills were of course, for I've seen a lot since I came up here, but I refused to tell them."

"Is that honest Injun, Tom?"

"Yes," answered the boy. "I never tell lies. But you must understand me clearly. I haven't the smallest respect for you moonshiners or for your business. Under ordinary circumstances I should not hesitate to tell the revenue officers where a still was if I happened to know. But I made a bargain with you, Bill Jones. I told you truly that we had come up here to cut railroad ties and not to interfere with you or your criminal business. I told you that if you'd let us alone we'd let you alone. We could have sent a message down the mountain by our chute any day which would have brought the soldiers and the revenue people up at once but we didn't. I had promised you and I have kept my promise."

"Yes," answered Bill Jones, "an' you let me off in a state prison case, jest in time to save my little gal from starvin' to death! I'll never forgit it, an' I tell you fellers you mustn't hurt little Tom. Ef you do, I'll stand on his side an' they'll be some ugly work done before you're through with it."

"Well," said one of the men, "he tells a mighty nice, slick story like, an' maybe it's true. But they's jest one question I'd like to ask him afore we close the conversation like."

"Ask me any question you please," said Tom, "and I'll answer it truly. I have nothing to conceal, and I never tell lies."

"Well," said the man after discharging a quid of tobacco from further service and biting off a new one to take its place, "what I want to know is what you'se been doin', out here in the mounting all night like."

"That's easy," said Tom. "I've been killing a bear."

"Where?" asked the man.

"About a quarter of a mile back. You see we're getting short of meat down there in camp, with all these soldiers quartered upon us."

"Then ef you done got a bear whar is it?" asked the man.

"It is back there, as I tell you, about a quarter of a mile."

"Why didn't you bring it with you?" asked the man.

"Simply because it is too heavy. It is the biggest bear I ever saw. I was on my way to camp, when you stopped me, to get some fellows to come out here and help me drag it."

"Will you show it to us?" asked the man, still incredulously. "Seein's believin' you know."

"Certainly," said Tom. "The little old moon is rising now, and you can get a good look at the bear that I've sat up all night to kill."

He led the way back and at sight of the bear even the incredulous one of the party was satisfied.

"Now," spoke up Bill Jones, "we've got jest one thing to do. Ef this bar is left here it'll be half et up by varmints afore men can be brought from the camp to carry it in. Fellers we've got to carry it in fer Little Tom--him what let me go jist in time to save my little gal from starvin' when her mother was lyin dead in the cabin an' fer two days the little gal hadn't so much as a bite to eat. We'll drag the bar to the camp fer Little Tom!"

One of the men offered an objection: "We'll git arrested ef we do," he said.

"For what?" asked Tom.

"Why fer moonshining of course."

"But you haven't been caught moonshining. Nobody in camp can accuse you of that or any other crime. Anyhow if you fellows will help me to camp with this bear I pledge you my honor that I'll stand by you and see to it that you're not arrested."

"That's 'nuff sed," said Bill Jones. "Little Tom never goes back on his word, an' he knows how to manage things. We'll take the bar to camp."

The men assented but with hesitation and obvious reluctance. Seeing their hesitation Bill Jones spoke again:

"Now I tell you, you needn't worry the least little bit. I know whereof I speak, as the Bible says, when I tell you that you kin bet all you've got on Little Tom Ridsdale. When he says a thing he means it an' when he means it he'll do it ef all the eggs in the basket gits broke."

"Thank you Bill," said Tom. "Anyhow I'll see that you fellows get safely out of our camp or else I'll go with you with my rifle in my hand."

The men seemed satisfied. Seizing the bear they dragged it campwards as the daylight began to grow strong. Before Camp Venture was reached the sun was well above the horizon, and as they approached Tom gained some notion of what had happened there and of what the blaze of the night before had signified. But well outside the camp his mountaineers dropped the bear and bade Tom good bye.

Not a vestige of the house in which the boys had lived all winter remained. Only the smoke of a still smoldering fire marked the place where it had been.