it was nearing march, but deep snow still covered the hills up in the north country, and there were, as yet, scant signs of spring; not even a bird was to be seen, excepting occasionally a solitary crow. when the sun shone out in the middle of the day, the brown fence tops began to show above the white drifts down in the clearings. by night the freezing cold returned; everything froze up solid, and upon the snow crusts which were thick and glossy it was just the best kind of slide.
there were other important things for boys to think about besides fun and tobogganing; it was just the right sort of weather to begin making maple sugar. for when it freezes hard, then thaws, the sap will run; so up near the lumber camps, where dick and joe lived, the sugar season was commencing. several miles beyond the camps upon the side of a wild mountain, rightly called lone mountain, grew a great forest of maples. the spot was too far away for most of the campers to bother about sugar making, but dick and joe did not mind distances, and as all the spending money which the boys had they were expected to earn for themselves, they were only too glad to have the privilege of tapping the maples on lone mountain. even before the sap began to flow, they had actually counted over the money they would earn with their sugar and had really spent almost every cent.
they whittled out hundreds of fine ash spills to run the sap, then borrowed every crock and pail their mother could spare from the camp to hold it, besides two great black iron kettles, which they would set over an arch built of large flat stones, where they would boil their syrup. after packing provisions and all their outfit upon a sledge, off they started for lone mountain, a day's journey from camp.
wild and lonely enough was lone mountain, a kind of scary spot at best for two boys to camp out alone, but they were not at all afraid, for they were used to wild places: having lived so long in the great spruce forests they felt quite at home. several years before, they had found the remains of an old sugar house standing in the maple grove on the mountain below a great overhanging crag. here they would live, and boil the sap outside the shack. after tapping their trees, they drove in the spills, hanging the buckets beneath. as fast as the sap collected they had to boil it, or it would soon sour and be wasted. so, as you can well imagine, both boys were kept very busy, collecting sap, keeping up fires under the great iron kettles, watching the boiling sugar, and testing it upon the snow to find out when it was boiled enough. when night came they were very tired, but they kept at their sugar making as long as the sap continued to run from the trees. they had been on lone mountain over a week. with the continued thawings and freezing, the sap kept on running, and the boys were glad, for it meant a fine lot of sugar and they were greatly elated over their good luck. they would carry back more sugar to camp than ever before.
"if we can only have two days more like to-day's run of sap, we'd make a pile of money this year," spoke dick happily; "we could buy two fine overcoats, and have something toward our new sugaring outfit that we talked with father about buying."
"yes, i know; great!" replied joe, as he ladled out a great waxy spoonful of amber sugar upon a pan of snow, and after it had cooled a bit divided it with dick.
"bully, ain't it?" said dick, cleaning off the spoon. "best we ever made—fine and white; it'll fetch top price. but say, we could make it still better if we only had a new up-to-date outfit. we've got to get it somehow, i guess, even if we don't buy new coats this year; guess our old ones will go another year; we ain't dudes."
sure enough, that day, to the delight of the boys, another thaw came and the sap ran as it never had done before and kept them jumping well to save it all.
"one of us will have to stay awake and tend fires and watch to-night. we can't finish up anyhow, and we can't afford to waste all this sap. i'll boil all night," said dick, tucking the embers in around the great kettle.
"you won't tend alone. if you stay up all night i shall too," said joe stoutly. "guess we're partners on this sugar making, ain't we?"
"of course. tell you what we will do: i'll tend till midnight, while you sleep, then you can work the rest of the night while i sleep," suggested dick. to which his brother agreed willingly.
the boys ate their supper, boiling their eggs in sap, and finishing up with brown bread spread thickly with soft, new maple sugar. and oh, how fine it tasted to the two tired boys. soon joe was fast asleep in the shack upon his fragrant bed of balsam boughs, rolled up in an old patchwork quilt his mother had made him take, for it always grows bitterly cold in the mountains before morning. dick grinned to himself, as he worked alone and heard joe's tired snores coming from the shack, and he made up his mind to let him sleep after midnight and get well rested. he kept very busy himself tending the bubbling syrup in both kettles and bringing firewood. it was somewhat lonely off up there in the mountain, now there was no one to talk to, thought joe to himself. the wind sighed and whined in the tops of the spruces. occasionally he heard a mysterious crack upon the snow crusts, off in the woods, where some hoof or paw broke through. finally, an old owl began its lonely hoot above the shack somewhere, and once he heard a long, whimpering yell, far across the valley. he knew what that meant; a lynx was abroad, venturing down into the clearings after a sheep perhaps. joe looked back into the shack rather longingly after the lynx yelled; he was almost tempted to awaken dick, but decided, unselfishly, not to.
at last, long after midnight, joe himself began to feel extremely worn out and sleepy. a great stillness had settled over everything; even the wind seemed to soothe him to drowsiness, while the sap bubbled and blubbered softly and monotonously in the iron kettles. in spite of all he could do, joe's tired eyes closed together, and, untended, the fires under the black kettles burned lower and lower.
out beyond the camp, breaking through the snow crusts, unheard, stole a huge, black, shambling figure, closely followed by two smaller ones. a great black mother bear and her two very young cubs, and she was heading them straight for the boys' sugar camp. the cubs were so young they had difficulty in keeping up with their mother, for they were tired. it had been a long distance down from the den, but the mother bear did not spare them, and kept nosing them along impatiently when they halted along the trail. now if there is one thing on earth a bear loves even more than honey it is maple sugar. the scent of the boiling syrup arose even above the woody, odours, and delicious enough it seemed to the old bear; she was eager to reach the camp.
at last the little trio came out into a small clearing surrounding the shack. the old bear halted, warily, but all was now silent. inside the shack lay one boy fast asleep, rolled in his patchwork quilt, while half leaning against a tree slept another. the sugar had ceased to bubble and heave in the great kettles, for the fires were almost out. between the kettles shuffled the old bear, followed by the cubs, whimpering wearily and crossly. the old bear arose upon her hind feet snuffing and grunting, but never offering to disturb the sleeping boys; all she cared about now was to find maple sugar. she was of monstrous size, and when she finally entered the shack, she completely filled up the rude doorway with her huge form. she nosed about, but did not find the stored sugar, so out she shambled, and cautiously approaching a great black kettle, she sniffed long and deliriously at its contents, blowing out the whitened ashes in clouds from the blackened embers with her breath. the cubs meantime seated themselves close by and watched her movements curiously.
then the old bear did a very foolish thing. so eager was she to get a taste of the sugar in the kettle that she reached in with one great furry paw, burning it severely. she immediately lost her head, and in her rage upset the whole kettle full of hot syrup all over herself. then there was something doing! with a terrific howl of pain and sudden terror, which made such a racket that the mountains fairly echoed back her cries, the old bear tore off into the woods in a perfect frenzy of agony, her heavy coat soaked with hot syrup, which burned its way deeper and deeper at every step. without heeding the cubs, or what became of them, she ran wildly on, only seeking water where she might cool her burning flesh. as soon as dick and joe heard the first yell of the bear, they were wide awake, you may be sure. joe saw the old bear just as she disappeared in the woods, and scared almost out of his wits he shouted:
"hi, dick, bears! look! there goes one big as a house, and see, there's another one," pointing out one helpless, whimpering little cub which had been left behind by the old bear in her madness.
"where?" inquired dick sceptically, as he appeared from inside the shack, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "what, that thing? it couldn't hurt a fly; it's just a baby. i hope you aren't afraid of a bear cub that size."
"well, i didn't say i was," replied joe, rather touchily. "you just ought to have seen the big one i saw, and heard its yells. it was awful. it turned over almost a whole kettle of hot syrup. look!" and joe pointed to the overturned kettle.
"no wonder it yelled," grinned dick; "though come to think, it got pretty well scalded; that's why it yelled so, i guess. and say, it won't come back here right off either, i'll bet. but look, he's wasted almost a whole kettle full of good syrup—meddling old thing. say, why in creation didn't you wake a fellow up?"
"oh, well, i guess, come to think of it, i must have been asleep. i seem to remember closing my eyes once or twice," confessed joe.
"great scott! i should think you did. let a bear come into camp and not wake you up; ha! ha!" jeered dick. "but look here; we're in something, if we did lose some sugar; we've got a bear cub, and my, ain't he a dandy?"
"look, look, dick! he's sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his paw and crying, just like a little kid. my, ain't he the funniest little fellow?" spoke joe delightedly, watching the cub, and both boys had great fun over their new pet, which they meant to take back with them to the lumber camps.
"sugaring all finished to-day," commented dick, as the sun rose over the tops of the tall spruces, and they ate their breakfast, sharing their bacon rinds with the bear cub, which had seemed to take to them at once.
"won't we surprise the folks when we lug all this sugar home, and a bear cub too?" spoke joe. "say, look at his head, dick; see, he's got a funny mark from his nose to the back of his ears; i'll bet when he sheds his woolly baby fur, it'll be a regular white streak right across his face. i heard indian pete tell once about a white-faced bear; they're awful rare."
"hope the folks will let us keep this fellow in camp," said joe. "he'll make a fine pet, and indian pete 'll help us to teach him tricks perhaps."
"say, what if the old bear comes back for her cub? she'll be awful mad at us, and i guess we better make tracks and leave here soon as we can," suggested dick, peering back into the thick woods, almost expecting to see the old bear making for them.
"huh, i ain't afraid; she's probably so badly burned, she won't think of anything else for a while. just the same, we'll break camp," replied joe.
so back to camp they went in triumph, their sugar packed on the sledge, and on top of the load sat the little, furry bear cub, which they had already named whitey. because whitey was such a cunning little fellow he was accepted in camp, and soon became a perfect pet. he was full of mischief, however, and could never be left within reach of the sugar crocks. he broke and filched eggs, and even gnawed whole sides of bacon. to make up for his mischief he acquired many taking tricks. he soon learned to stand on his head, and beg for lumps of maple sugar, and was beginning to take a few clumsy, capering steps, which indian pete called dancing.
evil days came, and as whitey grew older he became cross, and would often bite and scratch roughly. so finally, the boys were told they would have to part with their pet. now, as good luck would have it, an opportunity came to sell the bear to a man who dealt in trained animals. dick and joe went sadly to work, and built for him a rough coop with slats in front. in this coop whitey was placed, and the following day he would be taken away. for the last time the boys visited him in his crate, which had been set behind the camp, in the edge of the woods, so that his whines might not disturb the camp through the night. early the next morning before sunrise the team would take him away. the boys threw in lumps of sugar and things which their pet fancied most, and after shaking his rough paw, sadly they said good-bye to him, for whitey would be gone before they were astir in the morning.
that very night, when everybody was asleep, from far across the valley travelled a great, shambling black bear. she had come from far over the other side of lone mountain. she shuffled her way to the boys' sugar camp first. in and out of the desolate shack she stole, stopped to sniff at the blackened firebrands, nosed anxiously about the spot where her cub had rested so long ago, when one cub had followed her back to the den and the other had been lost. then, wheeling suddenly about, she took an almost worn-out, indistinct trail which led into the forest; and starting into a broken canter she headed toward the lumber camps.
thus it happened when the team halted to pick up the wooden crate and carry the bear cub to town, there was no cub to be found. all that remained was a heap of broken, splintered boards. the boys soon spied out the small tracks of whitey, and then indian pete pointed out two other great broad marks—the tracks of a full-grown bear. the mother bear had never forgotten her cub; she had come back for it at last, and just in the nick of time. the boys were secretly glad that their pet had regained his freedom. surely, in the great, green spruce forests, where the red raspberries grew thick and sweet on the mountain sides, and the wild honey may be taken any day, whitey would be far, far happier than capering and doing tricks to amuse a curious crowd.
years after, a white-faced bear boldly approached the boys' sugar camp, and was seen by them, but they did not fear him, for they were almost certain it must be their old pet whitey, who gained his freedom long before.
