Chapter 56 - The Plant Hunters by Mayne Reid

Lost in the Cave.

The scene of their encounter was at no great distance—about twenty yards off; and, guided by the loud growling and “worrying,” the hunters easily directed themselves towards the spot. After stumbling over stalagmites, and now and then hitting their heads against the projecting points of the stalactites, they arrived upon the ground; and the glare of the torches was thrown upon two animals—a dog and a bear. They were near the middle of an immense open hall, or chamber of the cavern. Both were in fighting attitudes; the bear standing upon the flat top of a rock—about three feet above the surrounding level—and the dog assailing his leg, now on one side of the rock, and now upon the other. The bear was defending himself with his huge paws; and at intervals flung the forepart of his body downward, with the design of seizing the hound in his hug.

Fritz well knew the danger of being embraced in the fore-arms of a bear, and therefore made his attacks from behind; springing up at the hind-quarters of Bruin, and biting him in the hams. To avoid these assaults upon his rear, the bear kept turning round and round, as though he was spinning about upon a pivot!

It was altogether a laughable sight to witness the curious contest between the two quadrupeds, and had the hunters been pursuing the bear for mere amusement, they would have permitted the fight to go on for some time without interfering in it. But amusement was just then out of the question. The fat of Bruin was a thing of far more importance; and now that the hunters had become aware of the vast size and endless labyrinths of the cavern, they perceived that it was quite possible in such a place to lose both the bear and his fat. He might have escaped them as easily as if he were in the open woods.

With these ideas, therefore, they were only too anxious to put an end to the struggle, and secure the game.

The bear could not have offered them a better opportunity. His position upon the rock rendered him a conspicuous mark, both for the bullets of the guns and the arrows of Ossaroo. Besides, there was no danger of wounding Fritz, if good aim was taken by the marksmen.

Good aim was taken—a couple of loud reports echoed through the cave—one of Ossaroo’s arrows whistled, and penetrated the thick shaggy skin—and the next moment the huge black mass rolled down from the rock, and lay back uppermost, kicking his paws about in the last throes of death. Then Fritz leaped upon his upturned breast, seized the white throat between his jaws, and choked and worried at it till the last breath was squeezed out of poor Bruin’s body, that the next moment lay quite limp and motionless.

Fritz was now scolded off, and the torches were held near, in order that the hunters might examine the game they had killed. A splendid specimen the bear was—one of the biggest and fattest of his kind; and no doubt would yield them a large amount of the precious “grease.”

They had scarcely made this reflection when another of far different character forced itself upon their minds, and compelled them to stand gazing at each other with looks of mute inquiry. Each waited for one of the others to speak; and although no one had yet said a word, all equally felt that they were in a dilemma.

What dilemma? you will ask. The game had been secured—what difficulty would there be in dragging it out of the cave, and afterwards taking it home to their hut?

All this may appear easy enough to you, because you do not yet understand the situation in which the hunters were placed—you do not comprehend why they stood gazing upon each other with troubled looks.

Why they did so was simply this:—while examining the carcass of the bear, they observed that their torches were burnt out! Not quite to the ends, it is true; but so near that they could not be depended on to light them a score of yards. They were already flickering and burning dimly—in a few seconds more they would be quite extinguished; and what then?

Ay, what then? that was the thought that was troubling them—that it was that caused them to stand looking anxiously towards one another.

Even they themselves did not fully comprehend the peril of their situation. They saw that they were going to be left in darkness—the perfect darkness of a dungeon—but it had not yet occurred to them that they might never again see the light! That appalling thought had not yet shaped itself in their minds—they only believed that the want of torches would put them to much inconvenience—they would have great trouble, and perhaps difficulty, in finding their way out of the cave, and getting the bear along with them—they might first have to grope their way out, and then get fresh torches, and return for the game; and all this would take a good deal of time, and give them a large amount of trouble; but never mind that—the prize they had obtained in the fat of the bear, and his fine hide—which would make a grand winter robe—would repay them for all.

Ha! it was only after their torches had gone quite out, and they were left in total darkness—only after they had groped and groped, and wandered about for hours—now sprawling over loose rocks, now tumbling down into deep clefts—only after they had gone through all this, and still saw no light—no sign by which they could even guess at their whereabouts, that they became fully alive to the peril of their situation, and began to experience the awful apprehension already expressed—that they might never again see the light!

And such in reality was their fear, when, after hours spent in fruitless wandering, they stood holding each other’s hands, crouching and cowering together in the midst of that amorphous darkness!