My mind worked fast. Buell and
his fellows had surely not run across Hiram Bent. Had the old hunter
deserted me? I flouted such a thought. It was next to a certainty that he
had seen the lumbermen, and for reasons best known to himself had not
returned to the cabin. But he was out there somewhere among the pines, and
I did not think any of those ruffians was safe.
Then I heard stealthy footsteps approaching. Soon I saw the Mexican
slipping cautiously to the door. He peeped within. Probably the interior
was dark to him, as it had been to me. He was not a coward, for he stepped
inside.
At that instant there was a clinking sound, a rush and a roar, and a black
mass appeared to hurl itself upon the Mexican. He went down with a piercing
shriek. Then began a fearful commotion. Screams and roars mingled with the
noise of combat. I saw a whirling cloud of dust on the cabin floor. The cub
had jumped on the Mexican. What an unmerciful beating he was giving that
Greaser! I could have yelled out in my glee. I had to bite my tongue to
keep from urging on my docile little pet bear. Greaser surely thought he
had fallen in with his evil spirit, for he howled to the saints to save
him.
Herky-Jerky was the only one of his companions brave enough to start to
help him.
"The cabin's full of b'ars!" he yelled.
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