So it came to pass that
three men, clambering up the hill with bundles and baskets, saw their
tent approaching. It seemed to them like a white-robed phantom pursued
by hornets. Its moans riffled the hemlock twigs.
The three men dropped their bundles and scurried to one side, their eyes
gleaming with fear. The canvas avalanche swept past them. They leaned,
faint and dumb, against trees and listened, their blood stagnant. Below
them it struck the base of a great pine tree, where it writhed and
struggled. The three watched its convolutions a moment and then started
terrifically for the top of the hill. As they disappeared, the bear cut
loose with a mighty effort. He cast one dishevelled and agonized look at
the white thing, and then started wildly for the inner recesses of the
forest.
The three fear-stricken individuals ran to the rebuilt fire. The little
man reposed by it calmly smoking. They sprang at him and overwhelmed him
with interrogations. He contemplated darkness and took a long, pompous
puff. "There's only one of me--and the devil made a twin," he said.
FOUR MEN IN A CAVE
LIKEWISE FOUR QUEENS, AND A SULLIVAN COUNTY HERMIT
The moon rested for a moment on the top of a tall pine on a hill.
The little man was standing in front of the campfire making orations to
his companions.
"We can tell a great tale when we get back to the city if we investigate
this thing," said he, in conclusion.
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