Chapter 55 - The Plant Hunters by Mayne Reid

Bear-Hunt by Torch-Light.

As soon as it was daylight again, they went to work once more, and finished their preparations for entering the cave, and at a tolerably early hour they took the route for the ravine.

Two of them carried the improvised ladder; which was only a slender pine-tree, of about forty feet long, notched by the axe, the notches being at intervals of a foot to eighteen inches apart. At its more slender part, there were no notches required, as the natural branches of the tree, lopped into short stumps, were to be used as foot-holds, and would serve the purpose better than any notches.

Forty feet of even the slenderest tree when green would be load sufficient for a couple of stout men. This one was not green; for they had been fortunate enough to find one that had fallen long ago, and that was now quite dead and dry. For all that, it “tied” the united strength of Caspar and Ossaroo to carry it along, for it was they who performed this duty. Karl was loaded with the guns, torches, and the great spear of the shikarree. Fritz carried nothing except his tail; and this he bore aloft in a swaggerish manner, as though he knew that something more than common was designed, and that grand game was to be killed that day.

They moved but slowly; but after about two hours’ walking, including many stoppages and rests, they arrived within the ravine and under the ledge.

It occupied about another hour to erect the ladder. It was placed nearly opposite the mouth of the cave, instead of by the path; for there appeared a favourable crevice in the rocks, which promised to hold it steady, and keep it from turning round; an important consideration with so rude a ladder. The upper end of the tree was laid into the crevice, and fitted exactly. The lower end was rendered firm by something like a cartload of heavy boulders being built around it. It could neither shift nor turn. It was fast as a shut trap. Nothing now remained but to ascend, light the torches, and enter the cave.

A question, however, arose, whether Bruin might still be inside? It was doubtful enough, and there was no means of knowing. He had ample time to have gone out, since they left the place on the preceding evening, and, very likely, had wandered forth for a nocturnal ramble; but, had he returned? was he now “at home” to receive them? or, was he still abroad, robbing the bushes of their fruit, and the bees of their honey?

No one could tell; there was no sign visible; no hint far visitors. The door was open, and all who came night enter or not, as they pleased.

For a while, our hunters had some hesitation about this matter, and debated the point as to whether it might not be better to lie in ambush, and watch for Bruin going out or returning home. Most certainly the cave was his home. The path leading up had all the appearance of being much used. The rocks were scratched by his claws, and discoloured by his feet—his, or those of other animals. Karl had noticed all this, when making his first ascent; therefore, there need be no fear but that the bear would come back in one direction or another.

He might be trapped, and that would save a struggle; but this mode was not to the liking either of Caspar or Ossaroo, and Fritz apparently voted for a bear-fight.

Ossaroo, especially, declared that there was not the slightest danger in attacking him, armed as they were; not so much as there would be in an encounter with a sambur stag. He suggested, moreover, that it might be days before they would set eyes upon him; that he might go to sleep in his den, and lie there for a week without showing himself; and, therefore, it would never do to wait for him. He must be looked for within the cave, and assailed in his gloomy stronghold. So counselled the Hindoo hunter.

But it needed no argument. Karl alone was for the prudent way of setting a trap, and capturing the animal without risk; but Karl was as anxious as either of the others to explore the cave. The words of Caspar had made a deep impression upon him; and, slight as was the hope that Caspar’s conjecture might be true, still there was something in it. It might be so. Once more, it was like the drowning man catching at the straw.

Without farther hesitation the ladder was set up, as already described; and, shortly after, all four—for Fritz is to be counted in this adventure—stood upon the ledge in front of the cavern’s mouth.

Each had now possession of his own weapons: Karl, his rifle; Caspar, the double-barrel; and Ossaroo, his spear, bow and arrows, hatchet and knife.

There were two torches, each one nearly a yard in length, with handles that measured nearly another yard. They were made of splints from the pine-trees, that had been shared off while dressing the latter for the bridge. They were now quite dry, and, tied together in a bundle, would burn splendidly. They were no novelty, these torches. They had made similar ones before, and tried them; and, therefore, they could depend upon them to give them light within the cave.

They entered without lighting the torches, intending only to use them when it became necessary. Perhaps, after all, the cave might be of small extent, though Karl believed that such was not the case. He had noted that the bear had gone a good way back, as he was able to judge by his snorts and growling.

This point was soon settled. When they had proceeded many paces from the entrance, and the light of the sun began to fail them, they could perceive that the cavern grew wider and higher, and, like a great, black gateway, yawned far back into the rocks. Apparently, there was no termination to it!

The tinder which they had prepared was now set on fire; and the ends of the torches, touched with pine-tree resin, were soon ignited, and began to blaze.

All at once the cavern shone with a thousand lights, which had not been hitherto observed. The sparkling stalactites projecting downward from the roof, with here and there the drops of clear filtered water, gave back the glare from the torches in a thousand coruscations. It seemed to our young hunters as though they were treading the famed halls of Aladdin’s palace.

On they marched along the wide passage, holding their torches on high, and, at intervals, pausing to examine some nook or chamber that opened right or left—still searching for the bear. As yet, they had seen no traces of the animal; though, from the excited baying of Fritz, it was plain to them that either Bruin himself, or some other quadruped, had passed up the cave before them. The dog was evidently upon a hot scent, and lifting it as fast as they could follow him.

A little after, Fritz doubled to one side, and appeared busy with some object by the side of the cave. The hunters were under the impression that the game had been found, and halted, each bringing his piece to the ready.

After a moment, however, Fritz glided out, and again sprang forward on the trail. The torches were carried up to where Fritz had made his temporary pause, and, under their light, a large pile of withered leaves and grass was made visible. It was the snug den of Bruin—still warm where his huge carcass had lain; but the cunning brute was no longer “abed.” He had been roused by the noises of his enemies, and had retreated farther into the cavern.

Fritz was again moving forward along the trail, uttering an occasional “growl” as he went. He was by no means a fast dog at taking up a scent, nor yet on the run. These were not his qualities. But he was stanch and sure, and desperate when once he grappled with the game. So sure was he, that, whenever he started off upon a trail, you might rely upon it, with perfect confidence, that the game was before you.

The three hunters thought no longer of looking for the bear anywhere else than before the snout of Fritz; and, therefore, the chase became simplified to keeping the hound in view. The nature of the ground—here covered with blocks of loose stone, there with huge stalagmites—prevented the dog from making rapid progress. The bear had often doubled and halted, no doubt having some difficulty himself in making way in the darkness; and this doubling caused much delay to Fritz; so much, that the torch-bearers could generally keep him in sight.

Now and again, he became lost to view; and then there was a halt, and some moments of indecision, which were ended only by the long howl of the hound echoing through the cavern, and guiding them to his whereabouts.

You will be surprised that they should at any time have lost the chase. You will fancy that, by keeping on, they must overtake Fritz in time, or meet him returning.

Such might have been true, had there been only one passage through this stupendous cavern; but, instead of one, they saw scores of vaulted aisles forking at intervals, and traversing in very different directions. They had long since turned both to the right and the left—more than once turned—without any other guide than the baying of the hound, or the view of his yellow body, as he scrambled along the trail. An immense cavern if was, full of ways, and passages, and halls, and chambers; many of them so like each other, that the hunters could not help thinking they were running in a maze, and going repeatedly over the same ground!

By this time Karl had begun to reflect, and his reflection was, that they were proceeding rashly. Certain ideas were rising in his mind—ideas somewhat undefined—but one among the rest was, that, going as they were, without taking either “bearings or distances,” they might get lost!

Before he had time to call his companions to a halt and take some deliberation about the matter, a peculiar noise struck upon their ears—a noise that was easily recognised as being made by the united voices of two angry animals—a dog and a bear.

Beyond a doubt it was Bruin and Fritz—beyond a doubt they were “in grips!”