“If you don’t want a headache for the rest of the day, you had better look out for yourself,” exclaimed Frank. “You made him very angry.”
“Come in here!” cried Johnny, from the wardrobe. “There’s room enough for another, with tight squeezing.”
“I sha’n’t run a step,” replied Archie. “I am in no humor for nonsense this morning, and if Phil comes near me he will wish he hadn’t.”
The door opened at this moment, and in came Mr. Winters, Mr. Harris, and Mr. Thomas, all booted and spurred, and dusty with fast riding. The last named gentleman entered the room in a very undignified manner. The instant the door was opened, a half-grown bear slipped in between his feet, knocking them out from under him, and causing him to sit down on the animal’s back very suddenly. To save himself from falling to the floor, Mr. Thomas seized the bear’s long hair with both hands, and was brought into the room in triumph.
This bear was the Phil of which Archie had spoken, and the enemy that had been keeping him and his companions in a state of siege during the last half hour. Archie had done something Phil did not like; and he had loitered about in the hall, awaiting an opportunity to be revenged. Now that he had got into the room, he was fierce for a fight; and the boys, who had measured strength with him often enough to know that he was a very unpleasant fellow to have about when he was angry, thought it best to keep out of his way – all except Archie, who was in very bad humor, and would have held his ground against a dozen Phils. The bear, accepting his determined manner and threatening attitude as a challenge to combat, rushed straight at him, and in a moment more would have held him in a very loving embrace, had not Dick seized the chain that was fastened to Phil’s collar, and brought him to a standstill.
“Put the rascal out of doors,” said Mr. Winters. “The first thing you know, he will hurt some of you boys.”
But Phil did not give any one a chance to put him out. He raised himself on his hind legs, tumbling off Mr. Thomas, who measured his length on the floor, and disregarding the blows which Archie showered upon him with his whip, sprang upon him and threw him down.
“Pull him off, fellows,” shouted Archie, who knew that the punishment was coming now.
Frank jumped down from the head-board, Johnny came out of the closet, and both ran to assist Dick, who still clung manfully to the chain; but before they could reach him, Phil gave Archie a ringing slap on each side of his head, and made good his retreat from the room. The next that was seen of him, he was out in the court trying to start a fight with Marmion.
Phil was a rough play-fellow, but he was full of his tricks, always ready for a fight or a frolic, and he held a prominent place in the affections of the boys, who looked upon him as a great institution; but by every one else on the rancho he was regarded as an unmitigated nuisance. One great fault with Phil was, that he was too much like some young people. He always wanted his own way in every thing, and if he could not have it, he would grumble and go into the sulks. He would wander off by himself and pout for hours together, like a foolish boy who had been denied something his mother thought he ought not to have, sticking out his lips after the most approved fashion, and growling and scolding to himself at a wonderful rate. On these occasions it was not safe to venture near him.
Phil was an expert wrestler and boxer, and as long as he could get the better of his antagonist he would keep in excellent humor. He would not growl or scratch him with his claws, and would always wait till he got a fair hold before he made any attempt to throw him down. But when he met his match, as he always did whenever he interfered with Frank, there would be trouble directly. When Phil found that he could not throw him, he would growl and get mad; and then there was always a fight or a foot-race. The boys generally thought it best to run when he was thoroughly aroused, for he was considerably larger than a Newfoundland dog, his teeth and claws were sharp, his paws heavy, and he used them in good earnest.
Phil was as treacherous as an Indian. Whenever a stranger visited the rancho, he would run to meet him, rub himself against his legs, turn summersaults for his amusement, and try, by every means in his power, to show that he was glad to see him; and all this while he would be watching for an opportunity to play a trick upon him. He would sneak around behind him, and if the visitor did not keep his eyes open, the first thing he knew his heels would fly up, and he would sit down upon the ground in a great hurry.
Another bad trait in Phil’s character was, that he never forgot an injury. He always avenged a wrong done him, and if he could not get at the guilty party, he would take satisfaction on some one else. Many a time, when Frank turned him loose in the morning, was he obliged to stand punishment for something Archie had done to him the night before. Phil, catching him off his guard, would trip him up, box his ears, and run off to escape the consequences; and the next time Frank met him he would be as friendly as ever, unless some one had been teasing him in the meantime. He seemed to cherish unbounded affection for Frank (that is, when he was in good humor), but he disliked Archie as much as Marmion did; and he had good cause to be angry at him on this particular morning. Archie had been unreasonably cross and ugly ever since his horse was stolen; and when the bear came up and greeted him in a friendly manner, by putting his paw on his shoulder, Archie, by taking some unfair advantage of him, succeeded in throwing him down, and cramming a handful of grass into his mouth; and that was an indignity that Phil would not submit to. He flew into a terrible rage, and the boys, knowing that something unpleasant would happen if Phil succeeded in getting his paws on any of them, ran into their room, and fastened all the doors and windows. The bear followed, and after trying in vain to effect an entrance through one of the port-holes, took his stand in the hall, and waited for them to come out. When Mr. Winters and his companions entered the room, he went in with them, and squared accounts with Archie, by boxing his ears so soundly that he had a headache all the rest of the day.
Uncle James and Mr. Harris laughed at Mr. Thomas, and the boys smiled behind their handkerchiefs. Mr. Thomas made some very uncomplimentary remarks about bears in general, and Phil in particular, and helping himself to a chair, resumed the conversation which this little incident had interrupted.
“It will be of no use, Mr. Winters,” said he, “for it has been tried already. He has been chased with dogs, caught in traps, and shot at numberless times; but he is to-day as lively and full of mischief as he was a year ago. He is bound to die a natural death.”
Mr. Thomas was speaking of the bear which had so often robbed Uncle James’s cow-pen, and after the boys had listened for a few minutes to the conversation that followed, they learned that this pest had visited the rancho again during the previous night, and walked off with a fine calf, for which Mr. Winters had refused a hundred dollars a few days before. More than that, he had got into a trap which had been made especially for him, but had succeeded in working his way out. This same trap had caught and held two good-sized bears, which had tried their best to escape, but it was not strong enough to confine him. He had tumbled the logs about in every direction, and made off with the bait with which the trap was set.
This bear was a well-known character in that section of the country – as well known as Mr. Winters himself. He was called “Old Davy;” and this name had been given to him to distinguish him from a few other old settlers of the same species; but these had been killed off, one after another, and now Old Davy was left alone. Those who had seen him, described him as a monster animal, fully as large as two ordinary bears. He could be recognized by a large bald spot on his forehead, which was, doubtless, the scar of a wound received during some of his numerous battles, and his track could be distinguished from those of other bears by the peculiar shape of the print left by one of his hind feet. A portion of the foot had either been shot away, or lost during a conflict with dogs, and the track made by this wounded member, showed only the claws and the ball of the foot. But this did not interfere with Old Davy’s traveling, or his fighting, either. He could wander over a good portion of the county in a night, and had, more than once, demonstrated his ability to whip all the dogs that could get around him. Between him and the horse-thieves, the farmers had lost many a dollar.
When Old