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My Strange Rescue and other stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada
My Strange Rescue / and other stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada
MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE
A shout of laughter rang through the kitchen and went echoing up the great chimney when, much more in fun than in earnest, I hinted that if they could not manage to kill the bear themselves I would have to do it for them.
Now it was no new thing for me to be laughed at. My big brothers were only too fond of that amusement, and I had got pretty well used to it; but this time I detected a particularly derisive tone in their hilarity, which touched me to the quick, and springing to my feet, with eyes flashing and cheeks burning, I burst out hotly, —
"I don't care how much you laugh. As sure as I'm standing here, I'll put a bullet in that bear before this time to-morrow night!"
At this they only laughed the louder, and filled the room with sarcastic shouts of, —
"Hurrah for the Bantam!" – "I'll bet on the bear" – "What will you take for his skin, Bantam?" until father silenced them with one of his reproving looks, and drew me to him, saying soothingly, —
"Don't mind the boys, Walter; and don't let your temper betray you into making rash vows that you cannot keep."
I sat down in the sulks, and soon after skipped off to bed; but it was a long time before I got to sleep, for my brain was in a whirl, and my blood coursing through my veins like fire.
I was the youngest in a family of six sturdy boys, and consequently came in for much more than a fair share, as I thought, of good-natured ridicule from my big brothers.
They were all fond enough of me, and generally very kind to me too; but they had a notion, and perhaps not altogether a mistaken one, that I was inclined to think too much of myself, and they took great pleasure in putting me down, as they were pleased to call it.
Of course I did my best not to be put down, and they had nicknamed me "the Bantam," as a sort of left-handed compliment to my fiery opposition against being put down.