Chapter 60 - The Grand Bear Hunt by Mayne Reid

Bruin taken by the Tongue.

The travellers had halted for lunch, and tied their horses to the trees. While Pouchskin was spreading out the comestibles, and Alexis engaged in noting down in his journal the events of the day, Ivan—attracted by a beautiful bird—had taken up his fowling-piece, and followed the bird through the jungle—in hopes of getting a shot at it. We go along with Ivan, for it was he who started the “mountebank” bear, that came near mounting him on the moment of their meeting it.

Ivan was walking cautiously along a bank, that rose to about the height of his head; but which in places was undermined, as if by the action of running water—though there was no water to be seen. The ground, however, upon which he trod was covered with pebbles and coarse gravel—showing that at some period water must have flowed over it; and, indeed, it was evidently the bed of a stream that had been full during the rainy season, but was now completely dried up.

Ivan was not thinking of this; but of the beautiful bird which was flitting about among the trees—still keeping out of the range of his gun. He was in a bent attitude, crouching along under the bank—which he was using as a cover, to enable him to approach the tantalising game.

All at once, a singular noise fell upon his ear. It was a sort of monotonous purring, like that made by a spinning-machine, or a very large tom-cat; and like the latter, it was prolonged and continuous. The sound was not exactly pleasant to Ivan’s ear, for it denoted the proximity of some animal; and, although it was not loud, there was something about the tone that told him the animal giving utterance to it was a creature to be feared. In fact, it fell upon Ivan’s ear in the character of a warning; and caused him to desist from his pursuit of the bird, come suddenly to a stand, and listen with great attention.

For some moments he was unable to make out whence the sound proceeded. It seemed to fill the space all around him—as if it came out of the air itself—for the purring sound kept the atmosphere constantly vibrating; and, as there was no definite concussion, it was all the more difficult to trace it to its source.

The thought that had entered into Ivan’s mind was that it might be the purring of a tiger he heard; and yet it seemed scarcely so harsh as that—for he knew the peculiar rattle which frequently proceeds from the thorax of the royal Bengalese cat.

He quickly reflected, however, that whether it was tiger or not, it would neither be safe for him to raise an alarm, nor start to rush back to the bivouac—though this was not twenty yards from the spot. By making an attempt to retreat, he might draw the animal after him, or stumble upon it—not knowing its direction. It was to ascertain its whereabouts that he had stopped and stood listening. That once known, he might keep his place, or lake to flight—as circumstances should dictate.

Nearly a minute remained he in this irresolute attitude—looking around on every side, and over the bank into the contiguous jungle; but he could see no living thing of any kind—for even the bird had long since taken its departure from the place. Still the purring continued; and once or twice the sound increased in volume—till it almost assumed the character of a “growl.”

All at once, however, it came to an end; and was succeeded by a quick sharp “sniff,” several times repeated. This was a more definite sound; and guided Ivan’s eyes in a direction in which he had not before thought of looking. He had hitherto been reconnoitring around him and over the bank. He had not thought of looking under it.

In this direction were his eyes now turned; and, stooping his body, he peered into the dark subterraneous excavation which the water had caused in the alluvial earth. There, to his surprise, he beheld the author of the baritone performance that had been puzzling him.

At first he saw only a countenance of a dirty-whitish colour, with a pair of ugly glancing eyes; but, in looking more attentively, this countenance was seen to protrude out of an immense surrounding of black shaggy hair, which could be the covering of no other animal than a bear—and a sloth bear at that?

On making this discovery, Ivan did not know whether to be merry or sad. He would have been glad enough, had he seen the bear at a distance; but, situated as he was—with the great brute near enough to reach him at a single spring,—in fact, almost between his legs—he had little cause to congratulate himself upon the “find.” Nor did he. On the contrary, he was seized with a quick perception of danger, and only thought of making his escape. He would have turned upon the instant and fled; but it occurred to him, that by doing so he would draw the bear after him; and he knew that, notwithstanding the uncouth shuffle which a bear makes in running,—and the sloth bear is the greatest “shuffler” of the family,—he can still go too fast for a man. Should he turn his face, the bear might spring upon his back, and thus have him at his mercy.

Instead of facing away, therefore, Ivan kept his front to the bank; and with his eyes fixed upon the animal, commenced gliding backward, slowly but silently. At the same time he had cautiously raised his gun to the level—with no intention, however, of firing, but merely to be ready in case the bear should become the assailant. Otherwise, Ivan was perfectly agreeable to making it a “draw” between them.

Bruin, however, had no idea of thus giving up the game; for the fierce growl which just at that moment escaped him, signified anything but assent. On the contrary, it was the prelude to the play; and declared his intention of beginning it. Almost simultaneous with the growl, he was seen starting to his feet; and before Ivan could pull trigger, or even raise his gun to a proper elevation, a huge mass of black shaggy hair, like a bundle of sooty rags, came whisking through the air directly towards him. Men talk of the sudden spring of the tiger, and the quick, rushing charge of the lion; but strange as it may seem, neither one nor other of these animals can charge forward on their intended victim with more celerity than a bear—clumsy and uncouth as Bruin may appear. His capacity of raising himself erect gives him this advantage; and from his great plantigrade posterior paws, combined with his powerful muscular legs, he can pitch forward with a velocity surprising as it is unexpected. This the regular bear-hunter well knows; and the knowledge renders him cautious about coming too close to a couchant bear. Ivan himself knew it; and it was for this very reason he was endeavouring to widen the distance between himself and Bruin, before he should turn to run.

Unfortunately he had not succeeded in gaining sufficient ground. He was still within charging distance of the animal as it rose to its feet; but another step backward as the bear launched forth, carried him clear of the spring; and Bruin leaped short. In another instant, however, he erected himself, and again sprang forward; but this time the impetus given to his body was not so great; and, although he succeeded in closing with the young hunter, the latter was enabled to keep his feet and grapple with him in an erect attitude. Had he fallen to the ground, the bear would have made short work with him.

Ivan had dropped his gun: for, not having time to raise it or take aim, the weapon was of no use. His hands were therefore free; and as the bear pitched up against him, he stretched out his arms, grasped the long hair that hung over the frontlet of the animal, and with all his might held back the monster’s head with his threatening jaws.

The bear had thrown both his paws around the body of the young hunter; but a broad thick belt which the latter chanced to have on, protected his skin from the animal’s claws. So long as he could hold back that open mouth, with its double rows of white sharp teeth, he had not so much to fear; but his strength could not last long against such a powerful wrestler. His only hope was that the cries which he was raising would bring the others to his assistance; and of this he had no doubt: as he already heard both Pouchskin and Alexis hurrying up towards the spot.

It was a perilous moment. The extended jaws of the bear were within twelve inches of the young hunter’s face; he could feel the hot breath steaming against his cheeks, and the long extensile tongue almost touched his forehead, vibrating about in rapid sweeps, as if the animal by that means hoped to bring his head within reach!

The struggle was not protracted. It lasted till Alexis and Pouchskin came upon the ground; but not six seconds longer. The first thing that Pouchskin did was to grasp the protruding tongue of the bear in his left hand—making a half curl of it round his fingers—while with his right he plunged his long knife right between the ribs of the animal. Alexis, on the other side, dealt a blow in similar fashion; and, before either of them could draw his blade out of its hair-covered sheath, the huge mountebank relaxed his hold, and rolled over among the pebbles. There, after a few grotesque contortions his limbs lay extended and motionless, making it evident beyond a doubt, that his “dancing days were over.”