# Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp/Chapter 17
#### CHAPTER XVII
##### LONG JERRY'S STORY

"Ol' man Bennett," began Jerry Todd, "warn't a native of this neck o' woods. He come up from Jarsey, or some such place, and bringed his fam'bly with him, and Sally Bennett. She was his sister, and as he was a pretty upstandin' man, so was she a tall, well-built gal. She sartain made a hit up here around Scarboro and along Rollin' River.
"But she wasn't backwoods bred, and the other girls said she was timid and afraid of her shadder," chuckled Long Jerry. "She warn't afraid of the boys, and mebbe that's why the other gals said sharp things about her," pursued the philosophical backwoodsman. "You misses know more about that than I do—sure!
"Howsomever, come the second spring the Bennetts had been up here, Mis' Bennett, old Bill's wife, was called down to see her ma, that was sick, they said, and that left Miss Sally to keep house. Come the first Saturday thereafter and Bennett, he had to go to Scarboro to mill.
"You know jest how lonesome it is up here ​now; 'twas a whole sight wuss in them days. There warn't no telephone, and it was more than 'two hoots and a holler,' as the feller said, betwixt neighbors.
"But Old Bill's going to mill left only Miss Sally and the three little boys at home. Bennett had cleared a piece around the house, scratched him a few hills of corn betwixt the stumps the year before, and this spring was tryin' to tear out the roots and small stumps with a pair o' steers and a tam-harrer.
"So, from the door of the cabin he'd built, Sally could see the virgin forest all about her, while she was a-movin' about the room getting dinner for the young 'uns. While she was at work the littlest feller, Johnny, who was building a cobhouse on the floor, yelps up like a terrier:
"'Aunt Sally! Aunt Sally! Looker that big dog!"
"Miss Sally, she turns around, an' what does she see but a big brown bear—oh, a whackin' big feller!—with his very nose at the open door."
"Oh!" squealed Helen.
"How awful!" cried Belle Tingley.
"A mighty onexpected visitor," chuckled Jerry. "But, if she was scar't, she warn't plumb stunned in her tracks—no, sir! She gave a leap for the door and she swung it shut right against Mr. B'ar's nose. And then she barred it."
​"Brave girl," said Mrs. Murchiston.
"I reckon so, ma'am," agreed the guide. "And then she remembered that Tom and Charlie, the other two boys, were gone down the hill to a spring for a bucket of fresh water.
"There were two doors to the cabin, directly opposite each other, and they'd both been open. The spring was reached from the other door and Miss Sally flew to it and saw the boys just comin' up the hill.
"'Run, boys, run!' she screams. 'Never mind the water! Drop it and run! There's a b'ar in the yard! Run! Run!'
"And them boys did run, but they held fast to their bucket and brought most of the water inter the house with 'em. Then Miss Sally barred that door, too, and they all went to the winder and peeped out. There was Mister B'ar snoopin' about the yard, and lookin' almost as big as one of the steers.
"He went a-sniffin' about the yard, smellin' of everything like b'ars do when they're forragin', s'archin' for somethin' ter tempt his appetite. Suddenly he stood stock still, raised his big head, and sniffed the air keen-like. Then he growled and went straight for the pig-pen.
"'Oh, the pigs! the pigs!' squealed one of the boys. 'The nice pigs! He'll eat 'em all up!'
"And there was a good reason for their takin' ​on," said Jerry, "for their next winter's meat was in that pen—a sow and five plump little porkers.
"'Oh, Aunty Sally,' cries one of the bigger boys. 'What shall we do? What'll father say when he comes back and finds the pigs killed?'
"Ye see," continued Long Jerry, shaking his head, "it was a tragedy to them. You folks livin' in town don't understand what it means for a farmer to lose his pigs. Old Bennett warn't no hunter, and wild meat ain't like hog-meat, anyway. If the b'ar got those porkers them young 'uns would go mighty hungry the next winter.
"Miss Sally, she knew that, all right, and when the boy says: 'What shall we do?' she made up her mind pretty quick that she'd got to try ter do sumpin'—yes, sir-ree! She run for her brother's rifle that hung over the other door.
"'I'm goin' to try and shoot that b'ar, boys,' says she, jest as firm as she could speak.
"'Oh, Aunt Sally! you can't,' says Tom, the oldest.
"'I don't know whether I can or not till I try,' says she. She felt like Miss Ruthie did—eh?" and the long guide chuckled. "No tellin' whether you kin do a thing, or not, till you have a whack at it.
"'Don't you try it, Aunt Sally,' says Charlie. 'He might kill you.'
​"'I won't give him a chance at me,' says she. 'Now boys, let me out and mind jest what I say. If anything does happen to me, don't you dars't come out, but go in and bar the door again, and stay till your father comes back. Now, promise me!'
"She made 'em promise before she ventured out of the door, and then she left 'em at the open door, jest about breathless with suspense and terror, while Miss Sally sped across the yard toward the pig-pen. Mister Ba'r, he'd torn down some of the pine slabs at one corner and got into the pen. The old sow was singin' out like all Kildee, and the little fellers was a-squealin' to the top o' their bent The b'ar smacked one o' the juicy little fellers and begun to lunch off'n him jest as Miss Sally come to the other end o' the pen.
"His back was towards her and he didn't notice nothin' but his pork vittles," pursued Long Jerry. "She crept up beside him, poked the barrel of the Winchester through the bars of the pen, rested it on one bar, and pulled the trigger. The ball went clear through the old feller's head!
"But it takes more'n one lucky shot to kill a full grown brown b'ar," Jerry said, shaking his head. "He turned like a flash, and with a horrid roar, made at her, dropping the pig. His huge carcass smashing against the pen fence, snapped ​a white-oak post right off at the ground, and felled two lengths of the fence.
"But Miss Sally didn't give up. She backed away, but she kept shootin' until she had put three more balls into his big carcass. He sprung through the broke-down fence to get at her; but jest as he got outside, the blood spouted out of his mouth, and he fell down, coughing and dying. 'Twas all over in ten seconds, then."
"My goodness!" gasped Jennie Stone. "How dreadful."
"But wasn't she a brave girl?" cried Helen.
"Not a bit braver than Ruthie," said her twin, stoutly.
"I could almost forgive you for spoiling our taffy after that, Master Tom," declared Helen. "Is that all the story, Mr. Todd?" she added, as the long guide rose up to go.
"Pretty near all, I reckon, Missy," he returned. "Nobody didn't never say Sally Bennett was afraid, after she'd saved Bill's meat for him. And that ol' b'ar pelt was a coverin' on her bed till she was married, I reckon. But things like that don't happen around here now-a-days. B'ars ain't so common—and mebbe gals ain't so brave," and he went away, chuckling.