“WAL,” said Dick, as soon as Frank had finished his story, “that war about the keerlessest trick I ever hearn tell on. Here, in the woods, it’s jest the same as it is in a city; let a boy have his own way, an’ he’ll make an eend of himself in a tarnal hurry. Don’t you know that that bar could have chawed you up in a minit?”
“Yes,” answered Frank, “I suppose she could; but I had to run the risk of that in order to get the cubs.”
“Yes, that’s another of your boy tricks,” continued Dick, knocking the ashes from his pipe, “an’ it ’minds me of some scrapes I had when I war a youngster. It war while my ole man war livin’. Him an’ me were onct huntin’ somewharnigh the head-waters o’ the Colorado River. I war about seventeen year ole, an’ a purty good boy I war for my age, too. It tuk a smart, lively young Injun to take my measure on the ground, an’ I used to think that what I didn’t know about trappin’, shootin’, and fightin’ grizzly bars, warn’t wuth knowin’. I was allers gettin’ into some scrape or another, an’ sometimes I used to get pawed up purty badly, too; but as long as I could crawl round I war all right.
“I ’member onct that I had been over to a little creek about two mile from the camp, to ’tend to some traps I had sot for muskrats, an’ as I war comin’ home through the woods, I seed a young bar, jest about the size of them you brought home. He come out of the bushes, an’ looked at me a minit, an’ then jumped back agin. I thought he war a purty little feller, an’ made up my mind that I would ketch him an’ take him to camp with me. I had a kinder hankerin’ arter pets, jest like you, Frank, an’ I wanted to tame this young bar, an’ I thought me an’ him would have some tall fights when he growed up; so I put arter him, an’ finally ketched the little feller, an’ tuk him in my arms, an’ started for camp.He hollered an’ fit like the mischief; but I hung on to him, an’ arter half an hour’s walk reached home. My ole man warn’t there; he had gone off to ’tend to his traps; but I didn’t keer, for I war used to bein’ alone in the woods. Arter feelin’ in all my pockets, I found a long strip o’ buckskin, an’ I thought I would tie the little feller to a saplin’ that stood close by the cabin; so I sot down on the ground an’ war tyin’ the string fast to his neck—he hollerin’ an’ fightin’ all the while—when, all to onct, I heerd a loud growlin’ and crashin’ in the bushes behind me. I looked up, an’ seed the ole bar a comin’. She had heered her baby squallin’, an’ was comin’ arter him. I jumped up an’ let the young bar fall, as though he had been a live coal. My gun war standin’ agin a tree, close by, but I knowed I wouldn’t have time to reach it, so I turned an’ begun to go up the saplin’. You better believe I climbedsome, an’ I thought I war gettin’ along mighty fast; but I warn’t a minit too quick. I hadn’t hardly got out of reach afore the bar made a grab at me, an’ pulled off one of my moccasins. I war fairly treed; an’ there I had to stay, too, ’cause the ole bar kept a close watchon me; but the tree war too small for her to climb, so I knowed I war safe. ’Bout an hour afore dark I heered the ole man a comin’, an’ the bar left off watchin’ me, an’ begun to get ready for him. So, I hollered to the ole man, an’ he put a chunk o’ lead into her. As soon as I see that she war done for, I slid down the saplin’ as fast as I could to ketch the young bar; but the ole man, who knowed in a minit what I had been doin’, give him a clip side the head with the butt of his rifle, that knocked the daylights out of him; an’ then, bars an’ buffaler, didn’t he scold me for bein’ so keerless; but, law sakes, it didn’t do a bit o’ good, for, in about three days arterward, I war in a wusser scrape nor that.
“Arter ’tendin’ to my traps, as usual, I started out through the mountains, on a hunt. ’Bout noon I killed a big-horn, an’ while I war cookin’ my dinner, I happened to see, in a rocky place up the side o’ the mountain, a small openin’ ’bout large enough for a man to crawl into, an’ I knowed it war a sort of cave. I didn’t stop to think any more ’bout dinner jest then, but picked up my rifle an’ started up the mountain. I wanted to see what kind of a place the cave war. When Igot purty nigh to the openin’ I seed a kind o’ path runnin’ up to it, an’ I knowed the cave must be the home of some wild animal. This made me prick up my ears, an’ be a little more keerful. I didn’t like the idee of havin’ a varmint jump down on me afore I knowed it. But I reached the mouth o’ the cave without seein’ any thing, and poked my head in, keepin’ my gun ready to crack away at the first live thing I should set eyes on; but the cave war so dark that I couldn’t see into it two foot; but Iheeredsomething, an’ I scrambled up into the openin’ an’ listened. It war a faint moanin’ kind of a noise—somethin’ like the squall of a young kitten, an’ I knowed in a minit what it war that made it; it war a young painter. Now, if I had knowed any thing, I would have climbed down out o’ that place as fast as my legs would let me. But, no; I tuk it into my head all to onct that I must have them young painters. I wanted one of ’em to play with; an’ without stoppin’ to think, I begun to crawl down into the cave, an’ along a narrer, crooked passage that must a been twenty yards long. One little feller kept up his cryin’, an’ it kept growin’ louder an’ louder, an’ I knowed thathe warn’t a great way off. At last I come to a place where the cave seemed to widen into quite a large room, an’ after a few minits’ lookin’—or, I should say, feelin’—for the cave war as dark as a nigger’s pocket—I found the young painters—three of ’em—in a nice bed of leaves made up in one corner. I didn’t mind the hollerin’ they made when I tuk hold of ’em, but chucked ’em all into my cap, an’ started back. I had tuk good keer to ’member my bearin’s, an’ I knowed I should have no trouble in findin’ my way out; so I crawled along keerless like, as usual, chucklin’ over my good luck, an’ thinkin’ what nice pets I would make of the young painters, when all to onct I come within sight of the mouth o’ the cave. Bars and buffaler! I would have give all the beaver-skins I ever expected to be wuth, if I had been safe out o’ that cave. The ole painter was comin’ in. She had smelt my tracks, an’ I could see by the light that come in, in little streaks on each side of her, that every hair on her body war stickin’ toward her head. She meant mischief. Any greenhorn could a told that I war in somethin’ of a fix. I dropped the cubs, an’ as I did so, they all set up a yell. The ole lady couldn’tstand that, an’ givin’ a growl that made my blood run cold, she begun to get ready to spring at me. I used to think I war tall timber at rifle shootin’, but, although the painter war not thirty feet from me, I war ’most afraid to risk the shot. But I knowed I didn’t have much time to waste in sich thoughts, an’ drawin’ up my shootin’ iron, I blazed away, expectin’ to have the painter grab me the next minit. But when the smoke cleared away, I see the old lady stretched out, stone dead. I have been in tight places since then, in fights with varmints an’ wild Injuns, an’ many a time a single chunk o’ lead has saved my scalp; but that war the best shot I ever made. It war a thing that many a Rocky Mountain trapper wouldn’t keer to undertake. I like to hunt now as well as I ever did, an’ expect to be in a good many rough-an’-tumble fights with Injuns an’ grizzly bars, but I’d rather be excused from crawlin’ down into a dark hole like that agin. But arter I had got out o’ the cave, I didn’t stop to think o’ the danger I had been in; the cubs war mine, an’ that’s all I keered for.”
Here the trapper paused, and thrusting his hand into the pocket of his hunting-shirt, he drewforth a clasp-knife and a plug of tobacco, and after cutting off a generous “chaw,” as he called it, and stowing it away in his cheek, he continued:
“But ’bout the nighest I ever come to bein’ rubbed out, war while I war trappin’ on the Missouri River, with my chum, Bill Lawson—the poor fellow is gone now”—and here the trapper lowered his voice almost to a whisper, in reverence to the memory of his departed companion, and hastily drew his hand across his eyes—“an’ I am left alone. It’ll be lonesome on the prairy when I get back there, an’ when I visit the places where me an’ him used to camp an’ trap together, I shall miss the ole man. He war one of the best trappers I ever come acrost. He war generally very good natered an’ jolly; but he had strange ways with him sometimes, an’ when he got one of his gloomy fits on him, there would be days when—although we ate at the same fire, an’ p’rhaps slept under the same blanket—he wouldn’t speak to me. I knowed something war troublin’ him, an’ it war a sorry sight for me to see that strong man weepin’ like a child; but I trapped with him for better nor five years afore he told me his story. There would be weeks at a time when hewould seem to forget his troubles, an’ then it done me good to lay beside our camp-fire an’ listen to his stories. He war a’most as big agin as I am, an’ strong as a hoss. He could pull up a saplin’ that two common men couldn’t budge; and he war as brave as he war strong—as brave as a man could be; he didn’t seem to keer for any thing, for I never see him frightened in my life, an’ I war with him for better nor twenty years. An’ he war a great Injun fighter, too. It tuk a mighty lively red-skin, an’ one that could pick up his feet in a tarnal hurry, to get away when ole Bill onct set eyes on his trail; for the way he could run war a caution to owls, an’ if there war one of them varmints in the country for fifty miles round, ole Bill allers knowed it. He used to tell me that he could smell an Injun further than he could see him; an’ I believe he could.
“But what I started to tell you ’bout war a little scrape we onct had with a grizzly. As I said, we war trappin’ on the Missouri River, right among the mountains. One mornin’, arter a good breakfast on buffaler hump, I war gettin’ ready to start out to ’tend to my traps, when ole Bill said:
“‘Dick, I see some grizzly bar tracks down inthe gully last night. Let’s go an’ hunt up the varmint. I would have follered him up last night, only it war too dark.’
“In course I agreed, an’ we ketched our hosses, which we had picketed close by the cabin, an’ started out—ole Bill leadin’ the way.
“Huntin’ a grizzly is fine sport sometimes; but if a feller is any way skeery, he had better not take a hand in it. Even the Injuns don’t keer to meddle with the varmint, unless a dozen or two of ’em, well mounted an’ armed, can ketch him out in clar open ground; an’ even then they have to handle themselves round purty lively, for if the bar onct gets his claws on a hoss he has to go under. You couldn’t hire a red-skin to go into the mountains alone an’ hunt up a grizzly. The varmint allers lives in the thickest part of the woods; an’ if you don’t plug him through the brain at the first shot, or if your hoss gets tangled in the bushes, you’re in a mighty onpleasant fix the first thing you know. But me an’ Bill had hunted grizzlies plenty o’ times, an’ allers come out o’ the fight right side up, an’ we war used to the sport.
“Wal, as I was sayin’, we started out towardthe place where Bill had seed the trail o’ the bar, an’, arter four hours’ hard ridin’ over rocks an’ fallen logs an’ thick bushes, we come to the gully. It war ’bout a hundred feet deep an’ a quarter of a mile broad, an’ the banks on both sides war as steep as the roof o’ this cabin, an’ covered with bushes so thick that a hoss couldn’t hardly work a way through ’em. It war a fine place for a bar, an’ many a trapper wouldn’t have liked the idea o’ goin’ down in there to hunt one up, an’ I couldn’t help sayin’:
“‘Ugly place, ain’t it?’
“‘Yes,’ answered ole Bill. ‘But look over there;’ an’ he pinted acrost the gully to a sort o’ clar spot, where there warn’t no bushes, an’ the timber didn’t grow very thick. ‘If the bar gets arter us,’ he went on to say, ‘we must run for that ar place; an’ if we onct get him up there, he’s ourn, sure.’
“Arter stoppin’ a few minits to give our hosses a chance to rest, we took a look at our rifles, to see that they war all right, an’ then begun to work our way down into the gully. It must have tuk us an hour to reach the bottom, for the brake war higher than our hosses’ heads, an’ it war hardwork to get through it. We had sent out the dogs—we had two of the best bar dogs I ever happened to see—when we first started down, and jest as we reached the bottom of the gully, they give notice, by their howlin’, that they had found the grizzly’s trail. We rid up to the place as fast as we could, an’ ole Bill jumped off his hoss an’ examined the tracks. They war fresh. The bar had jest passed along, an’ we knowed that he warn’t far off.
“‘Hunt ’em up, dogs! hunt ’em up! Off with you!’ shouted ole Bill; an’ he jumped on to his hoss agin, and the dogs, understandin’ what he meant, war out o’ sight in no time. We follered them as fast as we could, an’, purty quick, we heered a great crashin’ in the brake, an’ the dogs broke out into a reg’lar yelpin’. We knowed that they had started the bar, an’ war arter him. In a few minits we come up with ’em, and see the bar settin’ on his haunches. The dogs war jumpin’ round him, now an’ then takin’ a grab at his hams, an’ they kept the varmint spinnin’ round as though he war sot on a pivot. Ole Bill drew his rifle up to his shoulder, an’ sent an ounce-ball into the bar’s hide, which brought him to theground; but he war on his pins agin in less than no time, an’, leaving the dogs, he took arter ole Bill, who made straight acrost the gully toward the clar spot he had spoken of. The dogs follered close at the bar’s heels, onct in awhile makin’ a grab at his back settlements, which seemed to bother him a good deal; but he didn’t stop to fight ’em, cause he thought the ole trapper war bigger game. The bushes an’ trees war so thick that for some time I couldn’t get a chance to put in a shot. I didn’t want to fire till I war sartin of killin’ the bar, ’cause it war only throwin’ away powder without doin’ no good. So I cheered on the dogs, hopin’ that they would bring the bar to a stand-still; an’ I warn’t mistakened, for they begun to pitch in so rough, that the varmint had to stop to keep ’em off. This war what I war waitin’ for, an’ I sent another chunk o’ cold lead atween his ribs. But he didn’t seem to mind it at all; an’, arter beating off the dogs, he started agin for the trapper.
“Ole Bill had made mighty good use of his time, an’ the way he stuck his heels into his hoss’ sides war a thing to look at. He tried to load up his rifle, but the bushes war so thick that he hadto lay close along his hoss, to keep from bein’ swept off by them.
“I drawed up long enough to ram home a ball, an’ then started on agin, an’ when I come up with Bill, I found that he had got into a reg’lar laurel brake. The bushes war thicker than ever, an’ as tough as green hickory, an’ Bill’s hoss couldn’t hardly make no headway at all. But they didn’t seem to bother the varmint any, for he tumbled along as though the bushes hadn’t been more’n straws; an’ he war gainin’ on Bill.
“It war a fine sight to see the way the ole feller carried himself then. He held his knife in one hand, an’ his clubbed rifle in the other, keepin’ his eyes on the bar all the while, an’ leavin’ his hoss to pick out his own way. He didn’t look the least bit skeery, but I knowed he war kalkerlatin’ how many clips he could get at the bar afore the varmint could grab him. The dogs war bitin’ at the bar’s legs all the while, an’ purty soon he had to stop agin to fight ’em off. He raised on his haunches, an’ struck at the hounds, which war as spry as cats, an’ had been in barfights often enough to know how to keep out of his reach.
“‘Now’s your time, Dick,’ said ole Bill. ‘Shoot close! My hoss ar purty nigh tuckered.’
“I war all ready, an’ ridin’ up purty close, so as to get in a good shot, I drawed a bead on him, an’ fired, expectin’ to bring him, sure. But a bush atween me an’ him glanced the ball, so that I only made an ugly wound in his shoulder. He give an angry growl, an’, beatin’ off the dogs, he dropped on all-fours, an’ made arter me.
“‘Now,’ thinks I, ‘Dick Lewis, you’re in a blamed ugly scrape;’ and so I war. The bar warn’t more’n twenty feet from me; and afore my hoss had made three jumps, the bar made a claw at him, an’ pulled out half his tail. The animal was doin’ his best, but I see that it warn’t healthy to stay on his back, an’, as we passed under a tree, I grabbed hold of a limb jest above my head, an’ swung myself clar off the saddle, jest in time to see the varmint put both paws on my hoss, an’ pull him to the ground. But that war his last move, for ole Bill sent a bullet through his brain that throwed him dead in his tracks.
“I come down out of my tree, feelin’ about as mean as any feller you ever see, for a man mightas well be on the prairy without his head as without his hoss, an’ mine war one of the best that ever wore a saddle. But the bar had done the work for him, an’ no amount of grievin’ could fetch me another; so I choked down my feelin’s, an’ begun to help ole Bill to take off the grizzly’s hide. But there war plenty of Injuns about, an’ it warn’t long afore I had another hoss; an’ ’bout a year arter that I ketched one for which many a trapper would have give all the beaver-skins he ever had. But that’s another story.”
THEnext morning, as soon as they had eaten their breakfast, the trapper went to the door, and, after listening, and looking at the sky a few moments, said:
“Youngsters, if we intend to ketch any of them beaver, we had better do it to-day. We are goin’ to have a storm as is a storm, an’ afore two days the woods will be blocked up so that we can’t do no huntin’ at all.”
Frank and George were eager to accompany the trapper, for beaver-hunting was something entirely new to them; but Archie and Harry concluded to make another attempt to capture the black fox; for the trapper’s description of his swiftness and cunning had rendered him an objectworthy of attention, and made the young hunters more anxious than ever to catch him.
Frank and George drew on their overcoats, strapped their blankets fast to their belts, and filled their haversacks. When all was ready, each shouldered his gun and an ax, and followed the trapper from the cabin. About noon they came to a halt on the banks of a large pond that lay hemmed in on all sides by the trees. Near the center of this pond were several objects of a conical shape, looking like drifts of snow. These were the beavers’ houses.
The boys were entirely at a loss to conceive how they were to go to work to capture the beaver. If they began to cut through the houses, the animals would take the alarm in a moment, and dive under the ice, where they would be safe from all pursuit.
“I’ll show you how it is done,” said the trapper, who perceived that they did not understand it. “In the first place, take your axes and go and pound on every house you can see.”
“Why, that will frighten out all the beaver,” said Frank.
“That’s jest what I want to do,” said Dick;“but you must know that a beaver can’t live under the ice any longer than me or you.”
He then went on to explain that the banks on each side of the pond were supplied with “breathing-holes,” which were dug into the bank, and extended upward above the level of the water, and that the beaver, when frightened out of their houses, would seek refuge in these holes, where they could be easily captured.
“But how do we know where these holes are?” asked George.
“Easy enough,” answered Dick. “All you have got to do is to go along the bank an’ strike the ice with an ax, an’ you can tell by the sound where they are. But I fixed all that when I first diskivered this pond. I know jest where the holes are. Now, you go an’ pound on them houses, an’ drive out the beaver.”
The boys accordingly laid down their guns, and commenced an attack on the dwellings of the beaver, when the animals at once plunged into the water under the ice. After every house had been visited, and the boys were satisfied that they had made noise sufficient to drive out all the beaver, they returned to the place where theyhad left the trapper, and found him engaged in cutting a hole in the ice close to the bank. As the boys came up, he directed one of them to fasten his hunting-knife to a long sapling for a spear, and the other to chop a hole in the bank directly opposite to the one he had cut in the ice.
By the time the spear was finished, an opening had been cut down into the “breathing-hole,” and the hunters discovered three beaver crouching in the furthest corner. Useless thrust his head into the hole, and contented himself with barking at the game; but Brave squeezed himself down into the opening among the beavers, and attacked them furiously. The animals made a desperate resistance, and in a few moments Brave backed out of the hole, with his ears and nose bleeding from several wounds, which showed that the long teeth of the beaver had been used to a good advantage. Frank gazed in surprise at the dog’s lacerated head, and exclaimed:
“There’s something besides a beaver in there.”
“No, I reckon not,” replied the trapper. “Your dog is jest about as keerless as you be, an’ hasn’t got no more sense than to pitch into every wild varmint he comes acrost. You must understandthat a beaver can get up a tarnal good fight if he onct makes up his mind to it. An’ when you get one of ’em cornered up, it takes somethin’ besides a ’coon dog to whip him.”
Frank made no reply, and the trapper reached down with his long spear, when one after the other of the beavers were killed and pulled out on the bank. The attack on the houses was then renewed, to drive out any of the animals which might have returned. In the next breathing-hole two beavers were found, but only one was secured, the other making his escape by plunging back under the ice. While they were cutting into the next hole, a large mink suddenly popped out from under the roots of a tree into which the trapper was chopping; and although George made a frantic blow at him with the handle of his ax, he succeeded in getting past him, and started across the pond toward the opposite shore. The boys immediately went in pursuit, George leading the way, and Frank following close behind him, brandishing his spear, and shouting to the dogs, which were close upon the mink’s heels. The little animal made headway through the snow with a rapidity that was surprising; but the long boundsof the dogs were rapidly diminishing the distance between them, and when about half way across the pond, Useless overtook and seized him. The boys increased their speed, fearful that the dog might spoil the skin, which was one of the finest they had ever seen.
“Useless!” shouted George, “get out! Drop that”——
He did not finish the sentence; for suddenly there was a loud crack, and the ice opened beneath him, and he sank out of sight in the cold water. Frank, as we have said, was following close behind him, and at the rate of speed at which he was running, it was impossible to stop; and the trapper, who had been watching the race, and had witnessed the accident with an expression of great concern depicted on his weather-beaten countenance, expected to see Frank disappear also. But the young naturalist always had his wits about him, and summoning all his strength, he sprang into the air, and cleared the hole into which George had fallen, by an extraordinary leap, and landed on the firm ice on the opposite side. George rose almost instantly, for he was an expert swimmer; but his sudden immersioninto the cold water seemed to have paralyzed his limbs, and rendered him incapable of action. Frank turned immediately and made a desperate clutch at George’s long hair; but he was too late, for the unfortunate young hunter again sank slowly out of sight. Frank’s mind was made up in an instant, and hastily pulling off his fur cap and comforter, he unbuckled his belt and began to divest himself of his overcoat.
“Take care now, youngster,” exclaimed the trapper, who at this moment came up. “Don’t let George get a hold of you, or you’ll both go down together;” and Dick threw himself on his knees, and stretched his long arm out over the water ready to catch George if he should come up within his reach, while Frank stood upon the edge of the ice, ready to plunge into the water the moment his companion should rise again.
But his intentions were anticipated; for at this moment Brave came bounding to the spot, carrying the mink in his mouth. Understanding, in an instant, that something was wrong, he dropped his game and sprang into the water. At this moment George’s head appeared at the surface, and the dog seized him, when, to the horror of thehunters, both disappeared together. But they arose a moment afterward, and Brave, holding the rescued hunter by the collar of his coat, swam toward his master, and George was drawn out on the ice, in a state of insensibility.
“Here! here!” exclaimed Dick, running around to the place where Frank was kneeling, holding George in his arms; “give him to me, an’ you run back an’ get the axes.”
The trapper raised his young companion in his arms as easily as though he had been an infant, and started toward the bank at the top of his speed; while Frank, after pulling Brave out of the water, ran back after the axes, as Dick had directed. When he again found the trapper, he was on the bank, kneeling beside George, and engaged in chafing his hands and temples.
“Now, youngster!” he exclaimed, hurriedly, “if you ever worked in your life, work now. Build a fire and throw up a shantee. We must get his wet clothes off him to onct.”
Frank, as may be supposed, worked with a will, knowing that the life of his companion depended on his exertions. In a short time a roaring fire was started, and a rude shelter erected, whenGeorge’s wet and frozen clothes were pulled off and hung up to dry, and he was warmly wrapped up in blankets. The rubbing was continued a few moments longer, when they had the satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes and gaze about him. Dick now left the hut. In a short time he returned, with a bunch of herbs in his hand, and soon afterward a cup of strong, nauseating tea was pressed to George’s lips, and he was compelled to swallow the whole of it. He was then enveloped in more blankets, and ordered to “go to sleep.”
While Frank and the trapper were seated beside the fire, talking over the accident, they heard the noise of approaching footsteps on the crust, and presently Archie and Harry hurried up to the hut.
“What’s the matter with George?” inquired the latter, hurriedly, for he saw that Dick and Frank were the only ones at the fire.
“O, he got a duckin’ in the pond, that’s all,” replied the trapper. “Don’t be alarmed. He’s sleepin’ nicely now.”
“We thought somebody was drowned, sure,” said Archie, “for we saw the hole in the ice, andyour guns and overcoats scattered about, as though they had been thrown down in a great hurry.”
In about an hour George awoke, and, of course, was immediately assailed with innumerable questions. Among others, his brother asked him why he didn’t swim when he fell into the water.
“Why didn’t I swim!” repeated George; “I couldn’t move. It seemed as though every drop of blood in my body was frozen solid as soon as I touched the water. But where’s the black fox you were going to bring back with you? Did you catch him?”
Archie replied in the negative; and then went on to tell how they had found the trail in the gully, followed it for a mile, then suddenly lost it again, all efforts to recover it proving unsuccessful.
About the middle of the afternoon, George, declaring that he was able to travel, was allowed to put on his clothes, and the hunters shouldered their guns and started for home.
The sight of their snug little cabin was a pleasant thing to the eyes of the trappers that evening, for the day’s hunt had been a hard as well as a profitable one. A fire was quickly started, and,while their supper was cooking, George changed his wet clothes; and a strong cup of coffee, as the trapper remarked, “sethimall right again.” After supper, how soft and comfortable their blankets felt! They lay for a long time in silence, watching the sparks as they arose slowly toward the opening in the roof that served as a chimney, and listening to the whistling of the wind and the sifting of the snow against the walls of the cabin; for the storm that the trapper had predicted had already set in.
ONawaking the next morning, they found that the cabin was almost covered with snow, and the woods were filled with drifts, that rendered it impossible for them to resume their hunting. The two days that followed were passed in-doors, curing the skins of the animals they had taken, and listening to the trapper’s stories.
On the third day, a heavy thaw set in, and at night the wind changed around to the north, and covered the snow with a crust that would easily bear a man. Early the next morning the hunters set out. George and Frank accompanied the trapper, to assist in breaking up a moose-pen, which the latter had discovered a few days previous to the storm, and Archie andHarry determined to again attempt the capture of the black fox.
The trapper led his young companions through the woods, and across the pond where George had met with his accident. About a mile further on, he came to a halt, and said, almost in a whisper:
“Now, youngsters, we are a’most to the moose-pen. You stay here, George; an’ remember, don’t go to movin’ up on the game till you hear me shoot.”
“I don’t see any moose,” said George.
“In course you don’t,” said the trapper. “But they are in the woods here, an’ me and Frank will go an’ surround them. It’ll take mighty keerful steppin’, though,” he continued, turning to Frank, “for moose have got an ear like an Injun’s. Be keerful now how you walk.” So saying, the trapper shouldered his heavy rifle, and moved off through the woods, accompanied by Frank. About half a mile further on, the latter was stationed on the banks of a deep ravine; and Dick, after repeating his instructions, continued on alone.
The stalwart form of the trapper had scarcely disappeared, when Frank heard a noise in thebushes, and presently a large moose appeared, leisurely wading through the deep snow, and cropping the branches as he approached. As if by instinct, Frank’s gun was leveled; but remembering the trapper’s instructions, the weapon was lowered, and the young hunter stepped back into the bushes, and watched the motions of the animal. He was a noble fellow—very much like the one with which Frank had engaged in that desperate struggle in the woods—with antlers fully four feet in length. The animal appeared totally unconscious of danger, and, after browsing about among the bushes for a few moments, walked back into the woods again, but almost instantly reappeared, and made for the ravine at the top of his speed. At this moment, the well-known report of the trapper’s rifle echoed through the woods. It was followed by a crashing in the crust, and presently another moose appeared, and, like the former, ran toward the ravine. A short distance behind him came the trapper, holding his rifle in one hand and his huge hunting-knife in the other, and rapidly gaining on the deer, which sank through the crust into the deep snow at every step. Frank and Brave immediatelyjoined in the pursuit, and the moose had not run far before he was overtaken and seized by the dog. Frank, remembering his first experience in moose-hunting, halted at a safe distance, and was about to “make sure work” of the game, when the trapper darted past him, exclaiming:
“Don’t shoot, youngster. That’s a young moose; an’ if you can ketch him, he’ll be worth more nor all the stuffed critters you’ve got at home.”
Here was an opportunity which, to Frank, was too good to be lost. Hastily dropping his gun, and producing a piece of rope from the pocket of his overcoat, he ran up to the game, and, after a brief struggle, succeeded in fastening it around his neck. The dog was then ordered to let go his hold, when the moose instantly sprang to his feet and started to run. Frank was thrown flat in the snow, but he clung to the rope with all his strength. After a short time the young moose, wearied with his useless efforts to escape, ceased his struggles, and his captors led, or rather pulled, him along through the woods toward the place where the game had first been started.
“Now,” said the trapper, “you’ve got a pet that is worth something. He’s jest the thing you want. You won’t have to drag your sleds home now.”
“Why not?” inquired Frank.
“Cause this yere moose can pull you four fellers further in one day than you can travel in two. I knowed a trader at Fort Laramie that had one o’ them critters, and he used to hitch him up to a sled, an’ think nothin’ o’ travelin’ sixty miles a day.”
While they were talking, George came up, and, after the hunters had collected their game, Dick led the way toward home, while Frank brought up the rear, leading the young moose.
Meanwhile, Archie and Harry were in hot pursuit of the black fox. They found the trail, as before, in the gully, and Sport started off on it, and met with no difficulty until they arrived on the banks of a small stream that ran a short distance from the cabin. Here the trail came to an abrupt termination, and all efforts to recover it were unavailing. This was the identical spot where they had lost it before. For almost an hour they continued, but without any success;and Harry exclaimed, as he dropped the butt of his gun to the ground, and leaned upon the muzzle with rather a dejected air:
“It’s no use. We’re fooled again. That fox has got his regular run-ways, and we might as well call off the dogs, and go home.”
“Not yet,” said Archie; “I can’t give up in this way; neither do I believe that any fox that ever lived can fool Sport. Hunt ’em up! hunt ’em up!” he continued, waving his hand to the dog, which was running about, tearing the bushes with his teeth, and whining, as if he, too, felt the disgrace of being so easily defeated. The obedient animal sprang upon the trail and followed it to its termination, and then commenced circling around through the bushes again; and Archie walked across the stream and examined the banks for the twentieth time, but no signs of a trail could be found.
At length, Harry suddenly exclaimed:
“Look here, Archie; here’s where the rascal went to;” and he pointed to a small tree that had been partially uprooted by the wind, and leaned over until its top reached within ten feet of the ground.
“You see,” Harry went on to say, “that the tops of all the other trees are almost loaded down with snow, but this one hasn’t got a bit on it. The fox must have shaken it off when he jumped up there.”
Archie, who was ready to catch at any thing that looked like encouragement, hurriedly recrossed the stream, and, after examining the top of the tree, climbed up on it, when he discovered the tracks of the fox in the snow that had fallen on the trunk. He descended to the ground, and the boys ran along up the stream, carefully examining every log and stick that was large enough for a fox to walk upon, and finally, to their joy, discovered the trail, which ran back toward the gully from which it had started.
The dogs immediately set off upon it, and the boys, who had learned considerable of the “lay of the land,” struck off through the woods, in an almost contrary direction to the one the dogs were pursuing, toward a ridge that lay about three miles distant.
Archie led the way at a rapid pace, now and then looking over his shoulder, and exclaiming, “Hurry up, Harry.” Half an hour’s run broughtthem to the ridge, and their feelings were worked up to the highest pitch of excitement, when they discovered that the fox had not yet passed.
“We’re all right now,” said Archie, joyfully; “that black fox is ours.”
“Yes,” said Harry, “provided this is his runway.”
“O, don’t begin to throw cold water on our expectations,” said Archie. “It’ll be too bad if——. There they come, now; get out of sight, quick.”
As Archie spoke, a long, drawn-out bay came faintly to their ears, and the dogs appeared to be coming up the ridge. The young hunters hastily concealed themselves, and Archie had just cocked his gun, when the black fox broke from the bushes, and, as if suspicious of danger ahead, turned off down the ridge. It was a long shot, but Archie, without a moment’s hesitation, raised his gun to his shoulder and fired.
“I told you he was ours,” he shouted, as the smoke cleared away, and the black fox was seen struggling in the snow. A blow on the head with a stick stilled him, and the boys, after examining their prize, which was the finest of his speciesthey had ever seen, started down the ridge to meet the dogs, and soon arrived at the cabin with their prize, and were delighted to find how successful their comrades had been in capturing the moose.
Frank and Archie immediately set to work to break the young moose to harness. He proved very tractable, and soon learned to draw the boys in a sled, over the ice, with all the regularity of a well-broken horse, more than compensating them for all the care they had bestowed upon him.
ASEVEREstorm having set in, rendering hunting or trapping impossible, the hunters passed a few succeeding days in-doors, and busied themselves in making a sled and harness for the moose, which, since his capture, had received a large share of Frank’s attention. He had been hitched to a sled regularly every day, and had been trained until he had learned to obey almost as well as a horse. He was very much afraid of a whip, and his only fault was a desire to get over the ground as fast as possible. Sometimes, when fairly started, it was a difficult task to restrain him. But the boys, far from considering this a failing, looked upon it as a quality worth cultivating; and their horned horse was alwaysallowed to show off his speed to the very best advantage.
One morning, after the weather became settled, Archie proposed taking a ride up the creek, to which the others readily agreed. The moose was brought from the barn, and after considerable trouble—for the new harness had been made too small—he was finally hitched to the sled. It was their intention to camp in the woods and eat their dinner. After providing the necessary articles, an ax, plenty of ammunition, a supply of coffee, salt, and pepper, a camp-kettle and frying-pan, they sprang into the sled, and waving their hands to Uncle Joe and the trapper, who stood in the door, watching their departure, they shouted to their horned horse, which set off up the creek at a rapid pace.
“Let him out now!” shouted Frank to his cousin, who was driving. “Let him out. We’ve got all day before us, and let us see how fast he can go.”
Archie pulled his cap down over his ears, and commenced shouting to the moose, which almost redoubled his pace, and whirled them over the snow at a rate the boys had never seen equaledby a living animal. His gait was an awkward, shambling trot; and as the boys watched his movements, they could not help laughing outright, whereupon the dogs joined in the chorus, yelping and barking furiously. This frightened the moose, which uttered a loud snort, and throwing back his head, ran faster than ever; and Archie, who began to fear that he was running away with them, pulled and jerked at the lines, but all to no purpose; the moose ran faster and faster, and the boys, who did not pause to consider the danger they might be in, laughed and shouted until they were hoarse. At length Frank exclaimed:
“You had better check him up a little. The first thing you know, the concern will run away with us.”
“I believe that is what the rascal is trying to do now,” answered Archie, pulling with all his strength at the reins. “He has got a mouth like iron.”
“Well, let him go then, until he gets tired,” said George; “he can’t run this way all day, and besides, if we are obliged to spend a night in the woods, it will be no new thing to us. Get up there! Hi! hi!”
Archie, finding that it was impossible to stop the “concern,” as Frank had called it, turned his entire attention to keeping him in the creek, in which he succeeded very well, until, as they came suddenly around a bend, they discovered before them a huge log, lying across the ice. To avoid it was impossible, for the log reached entirely across the creek.
“Stop him! stop him!” shouted Harry. “If he hits that log he’ll break the sled all to smash. Stop him, I tell you!”
“I can’t,” replied Archie, pulling at the reins.
“Let him go, then,” said Frank. “Lay on the whip, and perhaps he will carry us, sled and all, clean over the log.”
This was a desperate measure; but before Archie had time to act upon the suggestion, or the others to oppose it, they reached the log. The moose cleared it without the least exertion, but the next moment there was a loud crash, and Frank, who had seated himself on the bottom of the sled, and was holding on with both hands, suddenly arose in the air like a rocket, and pitching clear over his cousin, turned a complete somersault, and landed on the crust with such force,that it broke beneath his weight, and he sank out of sight in the snow. The next moment he felt a heavy weight upon him, and heard a smothered laugh, which he knew was uttered by Archie. The latter regained his feet in an instant, and making a blind clutch at his cousin—for his face was so completely covered up with snow that he could not see—inquired, as he helped him to his feet:
“Who’s this?”
“It is I,” answered Frank. “But where is the moose?”
“Gone off to the woods, I suppose,” answered Archie. “It’s just our luck. Eh! what? No, he hasn’t—he’s here, safe.”
He had succeeded in clearing his eyes of the snow, and saw the moose struggling desperately to free himself from the sled, which had caught against the log, and was holding him fast. Frank and his cousin at once sprang to secure him, and, while the former lifted the sled over the log, Archie seized the lines, and, in order to render escape impossible, made them fast to a tree. By this time George and Harry had come up, and at once commenced searching about in the snow for their weapons, and the others busied themselvesin repairing the runners of the sled, both of which were broken. In a short time every thing was ready for the start. George volunteered to act as driver, provided the dogs could be kept quiet, and, after a few objections from Harry, who “didn’t like the idea of riding after that moose,” they again set out. Fortunately no one was injured in the least—not even frightened—the only damage sustained by the establishment being the breaking of the runners. Boy-like, they gave not one thought to the danger they had been in, but amused themselves in laughing at the comical figures they must have cut, as they all “pitched head-over-heels out of the sled together.” The dogs, however, did not seem to regard it in the light of an amusing adventure, for they could not be induced to enter the sled again. They ran along behind it, keeping at a respectful distance, and the moment the sled stopped, and their masters began trying to coax them in, they would retreat precipitately.
The moose now seemed to have become quieted. Whether it was for the reason that the dogs were kept still, and there was less noise behind him, or that he had been fatigued by his sharp run,the boys were unable to decide. He trotted along at an easy gait, but still going as fast as they wished to travel, until Harry announced “that it was half past eleven o’clock, and high time that they were looking up a place to eat their dinner.” A suitable spot for an encampment was soon selected, and, after the moose had been unharnessed and fastened to a tree, Frank and Harry set out to procure something for dinner, leaving the others to attend to the duties of the camp.
The Newfoundlander, which accompanied the hunters, was sent on ahead to start up any game that might be in his way. After he had led them about a mile from the camp, his loud barking announced that he had discovered something. The boys hurried forward, and found the dog seated on his haunches at the foot of a tall hemlock, barking furiously at something which had taken refuge among the branches.
“It’s a bear,” exclaimed Harry, as soon as he could obtain a view of the animal.
“Yes, so I see,” answered Frank, coolly pouring a handful of buck-shot into each barrel of his gun. “We’ll soon bring him down from there.You be ready to finish him, in case I should miss.”
“Shoot close, then,” answered Harry; “for if you only wound him, he will prove a very unpleasant fellow to have about.”
Frank, in reply, raised his gun to his shoulder, and a loud report echoed through the woods, followed by a savage growl. The shot was not fatal, for, when the smoke cleared away, they discovered the bear clinging to the tree, apparently none the worse for an ugly-looking wound in his shoulder.
“Shoot me if the rascal isn’t coming down!” exclaimed Harry. “Try the other barrel, Frank, quickly.”
It was as Harry had said. The bear was beginning to descend the tree, and his whole appearance indicated that he meant fight. Frank was a good deal surprised at this, for he had great confidence in his double-barrel, and in his skill as a marksman, and had been sanguine of either killing or disabling him at the first shot; but the celerity of the animal’s movements proved that his wound did not trouble him in the least. It was evident that their situation would soon be anything but a pleasant one, unless the other barrel should prove fatal. Frank could not pause long to debate upon the question, for the bear was every moment nearing the ground, now and then turning toward his enemies, and displaying a frightful array of teeth, as if warning them that it was his intention to take ample revenge on them. Again he raised his gun to his shoulder, his nerves as steady as if he were about to shoot at a squirrel, and carefully sighting the head of their shaggy enemy, pulled the trigger. The bear uttered another of his terrific growls, and after trying in vain to retain his hold upon the tree, fell to the ground. Brave was upon him in an instant, but the bear, easily eluding him, raised on his haunches, and seized the dog in his paws. One smothered howl came from Brave’s throat, and Frank, clubbing his gun, was rushing forward to the rescue of the Newfoundlander, whose death now seemed inevitable, when another charge of buck-shot, from Harry’s gun, rattled into the bear’s head, and again brought him to the ground. Brave was released from his dangerous situation, and the moment he regained his feet he attacked the bear with redoubled fury; but the animaleasily beat him off, and rushed, with open mouth, upon Frank.
“Run! run!” shouted Harry; “the rascal isn’t hurt a bit.”
But with Frank, retreat was impossible; the bear was close upon him, and he would have been overtaken in an instant. Bravely standing his ground, he struck the animal a powerful blow, which staggered him for an instant; but, before he had time to repeat it, his gun went flying out of his hands, and he was stretched, stunned and bleeding, on the snow. The bear, no doubt, considered him disposed of, for he kept on after Harry, who, being unable to fire for fear of wounding either Frank or the dog, had been compelled to witness the struggle, without having the power of lending any assistance.
The bear had struck Frank a severe blow, which, for a few seconds, rendered him incapable of action; but as soon as he had recovered, he ran for his gun, and while he was ramming home the charge, he saw Harry’s coat-tails disappearing in a thicket of bushes, and the bear, seated on his haunches, engaged in fighting the dog, which, having experienced some pretty roughhandling, had learned to keep out of reach of the dangerous claws.
As soon as Frank had loaded his gun, he hurried forward to put an end to the fight, when a sheet of flame shot out from the bushes, and the bear ceased his fighting, and lay motionless on the snow. A moment afterward Harry appeared, and, upon seeing Frank, exclaimed:
“I’ve finished the job for him! But he gave you fits, didn’t he? Your face is all bloody. I guess he made your head ache!”
“I guess he did, too,” replied Frank. “I tell you, he hit me an awful crack. I had as soon be struck with a sledge-hammer.”
Fortunately, there were no bones broken. After Frank’s wounded head had been bandaged with his handkerchief, the boys proceeded to remove the skin of the bear, which was the largest of his species they had ever seen. Selecting some of the choice parts of the meat, they then started toward the camp.
Their appearance relieved the anxiety the others had begun to feel at their prolonged absence. The story of their adventure afforded abundant material for conversation while theywere eating their dinner, which Frank, who had experienced no serious inconvenience from the blow he had received, speedily served up; and many were the speculations in regard to the lecture they would be certain to receive from the trapper, for their “keerlessness.”
It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon before the boys started for Uncle Joe’s cabin. As it promised to be a fine, moonlight night, they were in no hurry. Allowing the moose to trot along at an easy gait, they sat in the bottom of the sled, enveloped in furs, amusing themselves in shouting and singing, when Archie suddenly exclaimed:
“Look there, boys! Now, see me make that varmint jump.”
The boys looked in the direction indicated, and saw a large, gaunt wolf standing on the bank of the creek, regarding them attentively, and seeming to be not the least concerned about their approach. As Archie spoke, he raised his gun; but the wolf, as if guessing his intention, suddenly turned, and disappeared in the bushes.
“Boys,” said Frank, “that little circumstance has set me to thinking. Supposing that a packof those fellows should get after us to-night, wouldn’t we be in a fix?”
“That’s so,” answered the others, in a breath, their cheeks blanching at the very thought.
“I never thought of that,” said Archie. “Hurry up, Harry. Lay on the goad, and let’s get home as soon as possible.”
The joking and laughing instantly ceased, and the boys bent suspicious glances on the woods, on each bank of the creek, over which darkness was fast settling, and their hands trembled as they reached for their guns, and placed them where they could be found at a moment’s warning.
Harry urged on the moose, intent on reaching the tree where the accident had happened in the morning, if possible, before dark. That passed, they would feel comparatively safe; for if the wolves should overtake them before they reached the tree, escape would be impossible. The moose shuffled over the snow at a rapid rate, as if he, too, knew that they were in danger; but Harry kept him completely under his control, and in less than half an hour the tree was in sight. After considerable exertion, the sled was lifted over the obstruction, and as the boys resumed their seats,they felt relieved to know that the worst part of the ride had been accomplished; but they had not gone far when, faintly, to their ears came the sound for which they had been waiting and listening—the mournful howl of a wolf. The moose heard it too, for, with a bound like a rocket, he set off on that break-neck pace that had so amused the boys in the morning. But it was far from a laughing matter now. The moose was not running from a harmless noise behind him, but from a danger that threatened them as well.
Presently the dreadful sound was repeated from another part of the woods, still distant, but nearer than before. The boys had often heard the same sound, when seated around their blazing camp-fire, and had smiled to think what a momentary horror would seize upon them as the sound first came pealing from the depths of the woods. But they had no camp-fire to protect them now; nothing but the speed of their horned horse and their own bravery could save them.
In a few moments, another and another joined in the hideous chorus, each nearer and more fearfully distinct than the others. The wolves were closing in behind them from all sides; but withtheir usual cowardice, were delaying the attack, until a sufficient force could be collected to render an easy victory certain. Up to this time not a wolf had been seen, save the one that Archie had first discovered; but in a few moments they could be heard dashing through the bushes on either side of the creek, and, soon after, the boldest began to show themselves on the ice behind them.
To describe the thoughts that ran with lightning speed through the minds of the terrified boys were impossible. In spite of the piercing cold, so intense were their feelings of horror, that they were covered with perspiration, and every thing they had done in their lives—minute incidents, long since forgotten—seemed spread out before their eyes like a panorama. Rapidly ran the terrified moose; but nearer and nearer came their dreadful pursuers, each moment increasing in numbers, and growing more bold. The moment was fast approaching when they would make the attack.
“Let us commence the fight, boys,” said Frank, in as firm a voice as he could command. “We must kill as many of them as we can, before they close on us. George, take Harry’s gun. Archie,you and I will fire first. Remember now, no putting two charges into one wolf. Harry, keep on the ice. Ready—now!”