A Tent in Agony

by Stephen Crane

　　A SULLIVAN COUNTY TALEFour men once came to a wet place in the roadless forest to fish. Theypitched their tent fair upon the brow of a pine-clothed ridge of rivenrocks whence a bowlder could be made to crash through the brush andwhirl past the trees to the lake below. On fragrant hemlock boughs theyslept the sleep of unsuccessful fishermen, for upon the lake alternatelythe sun made them lazy and the rain made them wet. Finally they ate thelast bit of bacon and smoked and burned the last fearful and wonderfulhoecake.Immediately a little man volunteered to stay and hold the camp while theremaining three should go the Sullivan county miles to a farmhouse forsupplies. They gazed at him dismally. "There's only one of you--thedevil make a twin," they said in parting malediction, and disappeareddown the hill in the known direction of a distant cabin. When it camenight and the hemlocks began to sob they had not returned. The littleman sat close to his companion, the campfire, and encouraged it withlogs. He puffed fiercely at a heavy built brier, and regarded a thousandshadows which were about to assault him. Suddenly he heard the approachof the unknown, crackling the twigs and rustling the dead leaves. Thelittle man arose slowly to his feet, his clothes refused to fit hisback, his pipe dropped from his mouth, his knees smote each other."Hah!" he bellowed hoarsely in menace. A growl replied and a bear pacedinto the light of the fire. The little man supported himself upon asapling and regarded his visitor.The bear was evidently a veteran and a fighter, for the black of hiscoat had become tawny with age. There was confidence in his gait andarrogance in his small, twinkling eye. He rolled back his lips anddisclosed his white teeth. The fire magnified the red of his mouth. Thelittle man had never before confronted the terrible and he could notwrest it from his breast. "Hah!" he roared. The bear interpreted this asthe challenge of a gladiator. He approached warily. As he came near, theboots of fear were suddenly upon the little man's feet. He cried out andthen darted around the campfire. "Ho!" said the bear to himself, "thisthing won't fight--it runs. Well, suppose I catch it." So upon hisfeatures there fixed the animal look of going--somewhere. He startedintensely around the campfire. The little man shrieked and ranfuriously. Twice around they went.The hand of heaven sometimes falls heavily upon the righteous. The beargained.In desperation the little man flew into the tent. The bear stopped andsniffed at the entrance. He scented the scent of many men. Finally heventured in.The little man crouched in a distant corner. The bear advanced,creeping, his blood burning, his hair erect, his jowls dripping. Thelittle man yelled and rustled clumsily under the flap at the end of thetent. The bear snarled awfully and made a jump and a grab at hisdisappearing game. The little man, now without the tent, felt atremendous paw grab his coat tails. He squirmed and wriggled out of hiscoat like a schoolboy in the hands of an avenger. The bear bowledtriumphantly and jerked the coat into the tent and took two bites, apunch and a hug before he, discovered his man was not in it. Then hegrew not very angry, for a bear on a spree is not a black-haired pirate.He is merely a hoodlum. He lay down on his back, took the coat on hisfour paws and began to play uproariously with it. The most appalling,blood-curdling whoops and yells came to where the little man was cryingin a treetop and froze his blood. He moaned a little speech meant for aprayer and clung convulsively to the bending branches. He gazed withtearful wistfulness at where his comrade, the campfire, was giving dyingflickers and crackles. Finally, there was a roar from the tent whicheclipsed all roars; a snarl which it seemed would shake the stolidsilence of the mountain and cause it to shrug its granite shoulders. Thelittle man quaked and shrivelled to a grip and a pair of eyes. In theglow of the embers he saw the white tent quiver and fall with a crash.The bear's merry play had disturbed the center pole and brought a chaosof canvas upon his head.Now the little man became the witness of a mighty scene. The tent beganto flounder. It took flopping strides in the direction of the lake.Marvellous sounds came from within--rips and tears, and great groans andpants. The little man went into giggling hysterics.The entangled monster failed to extricate himself before he had wallopedthe tent frenziedly to the edge of the mountain. So it came to pass thatthree men, clambering up the hill with bundles and baskets, saw theirtent approaching. It seemed to them like a white-robed phantom pursuedby hornets. Its moans riffled the hemlock twigs.The three men dropped their bundles and scurried to one side, their eyesgleaming with fear. The canvas avalanche swept past them. They leaned,faint and dumb, against trees and listened, their blood stagnant. Belowthem it struck the base of a great pine tree, where it writhed andstruggled. The three watched its convolutions a moment and then startedterrifically for the top of the hill. As they disappeared, the bear cutloose with a mighty effort. He cast one dishevelled and agonized look atthe white thing, and then started wildly for the inner recesses of theforest.The three fear-stricken individuals ran to the rebuilt fire. The littleman reposed by it calmly smoking. They sprang at him and overwhelmed himwith interrogations. He contemplated darkness and took a long, pompouspuff. "There's only one of me--and the devil made a twin," he said.