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Three Bears of Porcupine Ridge

<h2>XIII IN THE BOBCAT’S DEN</h2> THROUGH tangled jungles of wild blackberry vines and tall brake crept a tawny, mottled figure with stealthily velvet tread. At a distance the creature resembled a tiger, but following close behind its padding footsteps into the open, it appeared somewhat less formidable. Its head was round, but flattened at the top of its skull, and its jaws were beautifully marked and lined out with dark streakings. Its ears were fairly long and tufted, resembling in this respect its near relative, the dreaded Canadian lynx; its greenish, watchful eyes were alert and glittered savagely as it halted close to the edge of the swamp, where it was bound for its prey, but it had scented the presence of others, and had stopped to reconnoiter. The solitary prowler was a full-grown, male bay lynx, commonly known in the northern country as the bob, or wildcat. This great cat resembles closely in its habits the tiger of the jungles, and loves best the dark, secret places of the forest; so, when the whine of the lumbermen’s saws breaks the silence of the woods, the great tawny cat is ever seeking new dens, going back farther into the wilderness. Already had the frost touched the maples in the low-lying grounds, and the forest trails were deep with fallen, yellow beech leaves, so that the comings and goings of all the wild things were rendered doubly silent. In the heart of the swamp, for which the bobcat was headed, lay a sluggish pond, its waters black with rotting water weeds, and alive with catfish and pickerel. Close in the edge of the tall reeds lay an old flat-bottomed boat in which were two boys, who were fishing for catfish. Already, back in the dense forest surrounding the pond, it was growing black with coming night shadows, but the boys hadn’t noticed it, because the fish were biting splendidly, as they always do just after sunset, leaping right out of the water with sudden splashes, in the center of the pond. Over the farther side of the pond a great night-bird was fishing, sailing low and screaming its uncanny cry as it dove after a fish. One of the boys suddenly noticed it, for the cry made him shiver. “Say, Jud, what’s that thing, anyhow?” he questioned. “Just a loon, I guess,” replied the older boy, easily, hooking a wriggling catfish, and taking it from his hook carefully, lest it stab his fingers with its sharp horn. “Sounds awful kind of scary an’ lonesome, I think, Jud, ’specially when it’s most dark, like it is now. Say, Jud, let’s quit and start for home.” “Well, we may as well, I guess,” replied Jud, “but I hate to leave now; it’s terrible good fishing. I got two dandy big fellows the last few bites. Guess we got enough, though, for a good mess, and we’ll go before it gets any darker. Say, mother’ll be awful glad of the fresh fish.” “Bet she will,” replied Tom, as he carefully strung his catch on a willow withe. “Say, it’s funny we can’t get meat and things up here like we do home in Cleveland.” “Course, we couldn’t expect to, but who cares? Mother’s most well of her cough, staying up here,” replied Jud. “Say, Jud, I don’t seem to remember this place,” spoke Tom, as they plunged waist high through a forest of tall brakes into swampy, black mire. “Do you s’pose we’re on the right road? Wish we had one of the camp men along.” “Oh, we’re on the right track. If we keep straight on, I guess we’re bound to strike that piece of corduroy road; then we’re all right anyhow; that’s the lumbermen’s trail,” replied Jud confidently. A long, weird, mocking cry came back to the boys from the direction of the black pond. “There’s that hateful old loon yelling again; wish we could shoot him,” remarked Tom. “Hugh, guess when you hit a loon, you’ll have to be pretty old. Why, Indian Pete’s lived all his life in the woods and in a canoe, and he’s only shot one loon; they dive even before the bullet can reach ’em, and they can stay under water and come up a long ways off from the place where you first see ’em dive. They’ve got a crazy kind of a call; guess that’s why they say some people are ‘loony’ when they go out of their minds. Say, Tom,” suddenly exclaimed Jud, blankly, as he paused, “I—I don’t see—— Say, did we come through all these dead woods?” Ahead of the boys towered a great forest of giant spruce, their dead bayoneted limbs showing gray and ghost-like in the darkness. “Nope, we sure never saw ’em before. We couldn’t ever get through ’em, anyhow, I guess,” replied Tom. “Well, I guess we’re kind of off the track, somehow,” agreed Jud. “We’ve got to go round these woods. I believe the corduroy road lies over that direction,” and Jud pointed west. Wearily the two boys tramped back over the trail, which was growing darker every instant, little suspecting that they were lost, hopelessly lost, in the jungle of the forest, and night was close upon them. Back on the trail the bobcat kept padding silently on its way bound for the pond. It had come out into the clearing, and gave a muffled snarl of dismay when it had discovered the two boys. Back into the shelter of the tall reeds it crept, and lying there flat upon its tawny mottled stomach, it peered forth sullenly and somewhat curiously, watching the boys until they finally left the pond. Then clawing and scratching its way up a giant spruce, it sent out a long, reassuring yell to its mate, for back in the bobcat’s den, under a distant ledge, she waited with their three young kittens. From her lair she answered the call; it came back through the distance, echoing over the tops of the pines, and through the silent places. This was what the boys had heard and mistaken for the call of the loon. On and on plodded the two boys, Jud leading the way for his smaller brother through the awful jungle as best he could, which was not very well, because every minute the way appeared to grow darker and wilder. At last, in spite of his hopeful words to Tom, Jud had to admit that they were lost, probably miles away from the home camp. “What’ll we do now, Jud Brown?” questioned Tom, almost in tears because of his blistered feet. “Well, no use for us to go on, I guess, even if we could,” replied his brother, rather dejectedly; “seems to be a ledge just ahead of us. We’re climbing it now; guess we better find a dry spot and stay in it until daylight.” “Guess the folks’ll worry some when we don’t get back. Mother’ll wonder why we don’t come,” said Tom, anxiously. “Why, look up there, Jud; there’s a big, black mountain above, I should think.” “Yep, ’tis, and I guess it’s old Hog Back by the outlines I can just make out,” and Jud peered into the darkness, anxiously. “Say, anyhow, it’s an awful black, wild-looking spot right here; perhaps there might be bears, or panthers, or something, Jud,” began Tom. “Oh, well, there might be, but anyhow the best thing we can do is not to try to climb old Hog Back to-night. As soon as it’s daylight I can find my bearings all right, for I know about where the mountain lies, but we’ll camp under this ledge. Say, great luck, I’ve found two matches in my pocket. We’ll build a fire and cook our fish. Why, we’ll be all right ’til morning,” announced Jud, his spirits rising. “There’s a few hard crackers left, too. Oh, we’re all right.” The ledge was flat and dry; a great bare stone formed its outer edge, but farther back it was overshadowed by a natural stone roof, and here it was carpeted by soft moss. “Oh, look, Jud! See what I’ve found—a dandy little cave way back under here. It’s full of dry leaves, too,” announced Tom, joyfully. “Say, we can sleep in here; there’s room enough for both of us.” “Sure,” replied Jud, busy with his matches and some dry wood, which he soon had crackling and snapping, sending up a cheerful blaze which lighted up the dark, scary places and made things less creepy. Then he deftly skinned the fish, and raked a bed of coals, and they toasted the fish, which were delicious, even though they lacked salt. Then they gathered together quantities of dried spruce and built up a great fire far out on the flat stone at the edge of the ledge. “Guess whoever sees our fire will think it’s a beacon light, won’t they, Jud?” remarked Tom, as he piled on dry wood. “They sure will, Tom, and maybe some of the men from camp will be out in the woods and find us. Come on now. We’ll crawl into our spare bedroom; we’ll snug up tight and keep each other warm. There’ll be a big frost to-night.” Soon the two tired out boys were fast asleep in each other’s arms, while their camp-fire blazed high on the ledge, a regular beacon, as they said. At least one curious one had followed its gleaming light, for with great, agile, anxious bounds, the bobcat, who had left its mate and kittens in the very den where Jud and Tom were now sleeping, was making its way back to the ledge. Growling and snarling because of the strange light, it crept nearer and nearer the den. The bobcat is by no means so dangerous a foe as the catamount or lynx, but when its young ones are in danger, it is fierce and dangerous enough. The bobcat seldom climbed the ledge to its den, but would more often mount a tall tree, from where it readily leaped to the flat rock. The cat, having clawed itself up the tree, as usual, raised itself, clinging to a dead branch, and gave forth a long, terrific yell of baffled rage as it faced the camp-fire, which flamed up between it and its den, for when it had left the ledge for the swamp, back of that fire, safe in the den were the bobcat’s family. It dare not leap over the glowing flames; still, unwilling to forsake its mate and kittens, it held its position upon the tree. Another fierce, more terrible yell, and the two boys came tumbling out of the den, and at the same instant the fire flamed up and they both saw the angry bobcat perched in the tree directly opposite them. “Gee, what’s that thing? A tiger, Jud?” gasped Tom, clutching his brother in sudden terror. “Nope; maybe a catamount. Say, Jiminy, come to think of it, I guess we must have been asleep in its den,” spoke Jud. “What’s to hinder his jumping over the fire and tackling us, Jud?” gasped Tom. “Well, he won’t, not so long as we can keep it built up high. Come on; hurry, Tom. Get more spruce, quick,” and then both boys piled on more wood, and by the light they could still see the angry bobcat, who kept his position right opposite them, its green eyes glittering angrily, occasionally uttering its long, uncanny yell, which echoed back from the dark mountain and sounded like a dozen bobcats yelling in concert. “Oh, just hear him yell; he’d jump straight on us, only for the fire. Say, we can’t pick up much more wood round here,” announced Jud, finally. “We can’t climb up above either, on account of the rocky roof, and if we go down below he’ll sure jump straight on us. What’ll we do, I wonder?” “Oh, say, Jud, what can we do, anyhow?” gasped Tom. “We’ll have to climb down an’ risk his jumping, I guess. I’ll go, Tom. I ain’t afraid, much,” spoke Jud, bravely. Jud threw the last armful of dry spruce upon the fire, and was just about to climb down the ledge pluckily after more, when both boys heard a far-off, whimpering yell, which came through the woods from somewhere. “Say, what’s that, Jud? Another one of them things, do you think?” asked Tom, anxiously. “Sounds mighty like one, but then it’s a long ways off, down below somewhere.” “But if it comes up here, we can’t fight two of ’em, can we, Jud?” “No, but we can keep ’em off with clubs. Here, you take this one; it’s got knots all over it; and I’ll find one for myself. We’ll crawl into the den and then if they chase us we’ll whack ’em over the head,” said Jud. Just then another long, whimpering call came from down below the ledge, and then, instead of leaping, as it might, over the dying fire onto the ledge, as the boys had expected every instant the great cat would do, with its pointed ears laid back upon its flat skull the bobcat, from its perch upon the dead limb, sent back one long, answering yell into the night and began to slide and claw its way hastily down out of the tall tree without even deigning to notice the two boys. For, to tell the truth, the bobcat had only been interested in its little family all the while, and not in the boys at all, and so now with no thought but to follow its mate, whose appealing call had come to it from below, and anxious to get away as far as possible from the bewildering, hateful glare of the flames, which it hated, the wild creature soon caught the welcome, wild scent of the mother cat, and loped off into the dark silence of the night, leaving the two boys alone in safe, undisturbed possession of the bobcat’s den. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" width-obs="18" height-obs="14" /> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_183_sml.jpg" width-obs="374" height-obs="279" alt="WHY AHMUK THE BEAVER MOVED" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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