Boy Scouts in Glacier Park Part 21

At her scream, two other dark forms close to the road moved, and in the dim light the party could see one of these forms go ten feet up the trunk of a half fallen tree. Peering into the dark of the woods, Joe could at last count, as the Ranger said, five bears, two of them huge ones, three smaller (including the one up the tree), and not one of them more than fifty feet away.

"The two big ones are silver tips?" he asked.

"Sure," said Mills. "Want to pat one?"

"No, thanks."

"I must say, bears are dirty animals, if this is what they eat," Mrs.

Jones put in, sniffing. "I don't think I like them so near me."

"I'm sure _I_ don't," Mr. Elkins laughed. "Of course, I know these are tame, and all that, but--well, it's like the dog the man said wouldn't bite. 'I know it, and you know it,' said the other fellow, 'but does the dog know it?'"

Just then the big grizzly nearest them, which was standing on his hind legs, gave a low, snarling growl, as if he was mad at being disturbed at supper, and Mrs. Jones announced determinedly that she was going back.

And she went. Joe, Bob, and the girls wanted to linger, but the older people called them, and they had to go.

"Well, _that_ wasn't very exciting!" Bob complained. "Gee, you could have patted 'em, 'most. I wanted to see you shoot one, Mr. Mills."

"I'd as soon shoot a cow as a tame bear," the Ranger told him. "You can't shoot anything but lions and coyotes in the Park, and only Rangers can shoot them. We're protecting game here, not killing it."

"Wouldn't you kill a bear if it came for you?"

Mills laughed. "I'd try a tree first," he said.

But Joe had noted that all the time he stood near the bears, he had his hand on his hip, where his big automatic rested in its holster; and the scout suspected that he wasn't quite so sure about the bears being entirely tame as he pretended.

Back at the hotel, the first thing they saw was Val, in the lobby, with a clean shave, his hair cut and plastered down in a smooth part, a clean s.h.i.+rt and a bright red necktie on, and his best white fur chaps, with silver buckles, on his legs.

"Oh, look at Val, all dressed up like Astor's horse!" Bob shouted.

"Where are you going, Val?" the girls demanded.

"Oh, down to the big struggle," said the young cowboy.

"The _what_?" they asked.

"The big struggle--the dance," said he.

"A dance? A dance? Where?"

"Down to the hall. Better come."

"Sure--come, Joe, come, Bob," Lucy cried, and grabbing poor Joe by the hand--for Joe was scared stiff at a dance, being a poor performer, and besides, he had on his worn scout suit and heavy boots--she led him off, while Alice grabbed her equally reluctant brother.

The hall was a little annex to the hotel, and when they got there the piano was going, and a lot of people, cowboy guides, waitresses, guests, everybody, was dancing. Almost n.o.body was dressed up for a party as we dress in the East--any kind of rough clothes and stout boots went here, alongside of silk dresses and satin slippers, worn by some of the hotel guests.

"Gee, I can't dance any more 'n a cow," Joe stammered to Lucy.

"Nonsense," she said, "I'll bet you can dance very nicely. Anyhow, you've got to try just one with me."

So they danced a one-step, and Joe managed to get through it without treading on anybody's toe.

"There--what did I tell you!" Lucy laughed. "Of course you can dance. I don't know why it is boys always say they can't."

"I got around with you all right," Joe answered. "But with most girls I feel 's if I had about twenty pair o' feet."

"All you need is practice," said she.

"Hi," called Bob, who had been dancing with his sister, "come over here and pipe the pantalettes!"

Joe and Lucy went into the alcove where he and Alice were, and there they saw a stuffed and mounted mountain goat--the first Joe had ever seen except in pictures. It stood about three feet high, with long, pure white hair, hanging down in a beard under its chin, and hanging down its legs to a point, as Bob said, "just above the tops of its boots, if it wore boots." This hair on its legs did look exactly like the pantalettes you see in pictures of little girls back in the days before the Civil War.

"There ain't no such animal!" Lucy laughed.

"I wish we could see one, alive," said Bob.

"I'm going to hunt one later with a camera--me and Spider--he's my chum up at Many Glacier."

At the other end of the dance hall was a mounted sheep--a big old ram, almost six inches taller than the goat, with a magnificent pair of horns which curved up, back, and around till the points touched the base, making a complete circle. Even stuffed and mounted, he was a magnificent creature, proud and alert.

"Oh, I think it's a crime to kill such beautiful animals!" Lucy exclaimed.

"Me, too," said Joe. "I'd rather hunt 'em with a camera, get a picture, and leave the animal alive for somebody else to see."

"Well, _I'd_ like to have a head for my den," said Bob. "Wish they let you hunt in the Park."

Joe and Bob were both so sleepy that they soon left "the big struggle,"

and started back for the camp. It was almost pitch black now in the cedars, and after they had walked up the trail as far as they thought was right, they had to hunt some minutes before they found the handkerchief. Turning off from the path, they stumbled through the woods till they caught the glimmer of red coals from their fire, threw on some fresh wood to get light, and prepared for bed. Rolled up tight in their blankets, they were soon fast asleep.

It was still pitch dark, and it seemed as if he'd just gone to sleep, when Joe was awakened by a noise close by. He felt as much as heard the presence of somebody or something. The fire had again died down to a heap of coals, and only a faint red glow dimly lit the base of the great, ghostly tree trunks close around. Joe sat up, straining every nerve of eye and ear. Suddenly a dead stick broke with a loud snap not far away, on the side toward the provisions, which had been placed in the fork of a half fallen tree trunk. Bob woke up at this, with a jump that brought him, too, into a sitting posture.

"Wha's 'at?" he exclaimed, in the startled voice of one half awake.

The answer was another crash of broken sticks and a deep, guttural growl. At the same instant, by a sudden flicker of flame from the fire, a ray of light shot between the trees and in a flash that was gone almost as quickly as it came, the two boys saw a gigantic shadowy form rear up, it seemed to them ten feet into the air.

"It's a grizzly!" Bob yelled.

"Shut up!" Joe commanded. He reached over to the bare ground beside him and grabbed a fistful of dry needles and flung them on the fire. The blaze jumped up again brighter, and for just a second they caught a flash of reflection like two sparks, from the bear's eyes, and then the great shadowy bulk dropped down and they heard a cras.h.i.+ng through the woods, receding rapidly.

Joe threw off his blankets and piled wood on the fire till it blazed brightly. Then he looked at Bob, and laughed. The boy was still sitting up on the poncho, his blankets half off, his mouth half open, and his eyes big with fright.

"Brace up," Joe said. "He was only after our grub. They're tame around here."

"Tame your grandmother!" Bob retorted. "I don't care if they are. Do you think I'm goin' to sleep with a grizzly bear 'most under my bed?"

He began to get up.

"Where you going?" said Joe.