There was a
great ripping of bark and many strange sounds, and then the cub was
dangling head downward. Hiram had pulled him from his perch, and hung him
over the lowest branch.
"Thar, youngster, git busy now!" yelled the hunter. "Grab the other rope--
thar it is--an' rope a front paw while I hold him. Lively now, he's mighty
heavy, an' if he ever gits down with only one rope on him we'll think we're
fast to chain lightnin'."
The bear swung about five feet from the ground. As I ran at him with the
noose he twisted himself, seemed to double up in a knot, then he dropped
full-stretched again, and lunged viciously at me. Twice I felt the wind of
his paws. He spun around so fast that it kept me dancing. I flung the noose
and caught his right paw. Hiram bawled something that made me all the more
heedless, and in tightening the noose I ran in too close. The bear gave me
a slashing cuff on the side of the head, and I went down like a tenpin.
"Git a hitch thar--to the saplin'!" roared Hiram, as I staggered to my
feet. "Rustle now--hurry!"
What with my ringing head, and fingers all thumbs, and Hiram roaring at me,
I made a mess of tying the knot. Then Hiram let go his rope, and when the
cub dropped to the ground the rope flew up over the branch. Cubby leaped so
quickly that he jerked the rope away before Hiram could pick it up, and one
hard pull loosened my hitch on the sapling.
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