Gulf and Glacier; or, The Percivals in Alaska. Willis Boyd Allen
and Mrs. Percival had gone to the hotel at once, and were glad to rest there while the tireless young people “explored.”
The moment the train had stopped and the passengers began to pour out of the cars, Tom had caught sight of an animal which by this time had become pretty familiar to the travelers; namely, a bear. At almost every station they had passed, since leaving Winnipeg, was one or more of these furry friends in captivity. Tom had made overtures to all of them, sometimes barely escaping a dangerous scratch or bite from the half-tamed animals. The boy was just now an ardent naturalist, in his impulsive way, and felt a great interest in every strange creature on four legs – especially bears.
Here was a good chance then, to cultivate Bruin’s acquaintance. While Tom was providing himself with lumps of sugar at the hotel, his sisters and the rest of the party started up the forest path for the Glacier, as we have seen.
“Feed the black bear all you want to, but don’t fool with the cinnamon,” called the clerk after heedless Tom, who was already out of hearing.
Blackie was within a few rods of the hotel, and Tom was soon having great fun with him, tossing him lumps of sugar, and then holding them up while the bear, who was only a half-grown cub, stood clumsily on his hind legs and, supporting himself against the boy’s shoulders, stretched out his little gray snout for the coveted sweets.
They were in the midst of their frolic when Tom heard a chain rattle, up toward the woods. Something was moving among the stumps – another bear.
“Good-by, Pomp,” shouted Tom, letting his shaggy playmate down rather unceremoniously on all fours. “I must call on your cousin, over there.”
Pomp gazed at him with what Tom afterward declared was a most meaning look in his twinkling eyes, and galloped after him – only to be jerked sprawling at the end of his tether. Then he sat down, after the manner of his kind, and watched the retreating form of the dispenser of sugar, shaking his head gloomily.
“I’ll save a lump for you and be back before long, old fellow,” called Tom encouragingly over his shoulder.
The cinnamon proved to be double the size of his black neighbor. Instead of ambling up to his visitor as the other had done, he retreated a pace or two, and eyed him with such an unpleasant expression that Tom stopped short.
“Come, Brownie,” said he, in his most cajoling tones. “Here’s some sugar for you.” And he tossed him a lump.
Cinnamon stretched out his paw, raked the lump nearer, and bolted it. The taste was pleasing, and he slowly advanced, dragging his heavy chain after him.
“Friendly enough,” said Tom to himself. “I’ll try him with a lump in my hand.”
The bear took it rather too greedily for the comfort of the holder, but seemed in nowise inclined to hostile measures.
“Stand up!”
Bruin clumsily erected himself on his haunches, and caught the sugar tossed to him.
Tom was delighted.
“Now put your paws up on my shoulders and get it.” He stood back to the animal and looked at him over his shoulder.
Up came Cinnamon again, though rather sullenly, and reaching both paws around Tom’s neck from behind, clasped them on the boy’s breast.
“There, there!” cried Tom; “that’ll do, old fellow. You’re too heavy for me. Get down!”
A low growl from a shaggy throat within three inches of Tom’s ear, was the only reply.
Tom held up his last lump of sugar, and while his unwelcome comrade-in-arms was crunching it, strove to wriggle himself from the bear’s embrace.
It was of no use. The big, furry necklace only clasped the more tightly, and the menacing growl came again deeper than before.
The boy’s courage began to fail him. He looked down at the two great paws on his chest, armed with long, sharp claws. The bear’s breath came hot and fast on the back of his neck.
“Halloo! help!” shouted Tom desperately.
A savage snarl from the rear told him that a repetition of the cry might be fatal to him. The bear’s patience began to give out. The growls came nearer together, and more angrily. Every moment Tom expected to feel those long, white teeth in his scalp. To make matters worse, he now seemed to remember the words the hotel man had shouted after him, though he had paid no attention to them at the time.
If Randolph and the rest would only come! It was not like a fight with a wild bear. That would be bad enough. But to be killed by a chained beast, as a result of his own folly!
Both hope and courage were at the lowest ebb, and the danger really very great, when Tom’s hand felt in the lining of his coat a hard bunch.
Cautiously, with trembling hands, he ripped out the lining and extracted – a solitary lump of sugar which had slipped down through a hole in his pocket.
He held it out at arms-length. After a fruitless attempt to support himself with one paw and reach the sugar with the other, the bear relaxed his hold and dropped upon all fours.
To fling down the sugar and dart out of the radius of that hard-trodden circle was the work of a moment. Tom was safe!
The bear sprang after him, his little eyes twinkling with rage; but the chain held fast, and his late captive left him sprawling among the stumps.
I am not sure that Tom would have told this story at all, had not Randolph, one or two nights later, caught sight of ten red marks on his room-mate’s breast. Then it all came out, as you have it.
During the struggle with Bruin the sky had darkened, and it now began to rain heavily.
CHAPTER V.
A KING’S DAUGHTER IN A FREIGHT CAR
When Randolph and his party came rushing with shouts of laughter from the woods, they were joined by Tom, who was in an unusually meek mood. Fred looked at him suspiciously, but forbore to ask any questions.
The rain was coming down smartly, and all hands gathered, panting and laughing, around the generous fire in the little hotel office. “Where’s Bessie?” asked Mr. Percival, as soon as he could make his voice heard above the merry clamor.
“Oh! she’s just behind, with Mr. Selborne,” said Kittie. “Randolph, look out of the door to see if they are in sight.”
“They’ll get dreadfully wet,” remarked Pet. “Why didn’t they keep up?”
“Oh! Bess wanted to go up the glacier a little farther. I saw her pointing to a big rock” —
“And of course he went,” added Fred demurely.
Mr. Percival looked worried. His nephew reported that the missing couple were not in sight.
“It’s growing darker every moment,” he remarked anxiously. “I must go and look for them.”
Two strong young fellows who were employed about the hotel went with him. Leaving the jolly group around the fire, we will accompany the relief party. Those who prefer cosiness and warmth may stay behind!
The contrast was sharp, indeed, as Mr. Percival stepped out-of-doors with his two companions.
The sky was filled with black clouds, that rolled down the valley or hung in threatening masses along the lofty mountain slopes.
As they entered the forest they had to step carefully, lest they should stumble on some root or stone, half-hidden in the darkness. Through the boughs of the trees the rain dripped drearily.
They plodded on for over a mile, when they caught sight of a flickering light, appearing and vanishing, like a will-o’-the-wisp.
The two men from the hotel did not know what to make of it, but Mr. Percival guessed the source of the strange flame in a moment.
“They’ve built a fire,” he said quietly. “Or, at least, Bess has. I don’t believe the minister could do it, this wet night, if he tried!”
He