Bob Hunt in Canada Read online

  CHAPTER II

  UP THE ESCOUMAINS

  About five o'clock the next morning, Bob was awakened by what soundedlike a parade under his windows. He got up and saw a lot of women andmen coming from the little church on the opposite corner. Bob's actionand noise in opening the window had awakened the others, as they wereall sleeping in a sort of dormitory.

  "What the deuce is going on outside?" asked Bill Williams. "Has thecircus come to town or why this procession so early in the morning?"

  "You must remember that you are in a real Catholic country and that theRoman Catholic religion plays a very big part in the life of the peoplehere. The so-called procession you will hear any morning as it is merelythe good souls of the parish returning from the mass or the matinservice," said Mr. Waterman.

  "Well, let's get up now that we're all awake," said Bill.

  "Not all," said Bob, pointing to Pud, who slept on, totally unconsciousof all that had aroused the others. "Little Lord Fauntleroy is stillpeacefully sleeping."

  "Not so loud," said Mr. Waterman. "You'll wake him up."

  "No fear of that," said Bill. "What's the answer, Bob? Shall we merelymob him or what shall it be?"

  "Let's dump him on the floor and have some fun with him," said Bob.

  The two boys then went over and with a mighty shove, they dumped Pud onthe floor and turned cot and mattress over him. They both climbed on topand only smothered sounds could be heard from beneath the pile. Thenlike Goliath in his wrath, Pud arose, cot, mattress, blankets, twoyelling boys, and all, and shook himself. He made a bull-like rush atBob but Bill got him from behind and for five minutes there was somepretty rough-house work in that room.

  "Ye gods! I'm hot," at last cried Bob, stepping back for a breathingspell.

  "Same here," said Pud, sitting down on a cot and wiping off the sweatwith a pajama top that had gotten separated from its master during themelee.

  "Let's get dressed and get some breakfast," said Bill.

  "Is this the regular setting up exercises that this little company ofmild-eyed anarchists have every morning?" asked Mr. Waterman in hisquiet way. "If so, I am afraid that I cannot recommend it for personsnervously disposed."

  "Oh, this is nothing," said Bob. "This will just give us an appetite."

  "Well, I hear Madame Colombe busy getting breakfast ready, so we'll justbe in time," said Mr. Waterman.

  Ten minutes later, the party was seated around a table in the diningroom eating a breakfast of oatmeal, milk, ham and eggs, hot biscuits andcoffee.

  "The boat leaves at six-thirty so we haven't much time to lose," saidMr. Waterman.

  "We'll be with you in a minute," said Bob.

  The boys hurried upstairs and came down with their dunnage bags. Theyhad expected to carry these down to the boat, but a little hotel cartcame along and took them down. They had a few minutes to spare as theyarrived at the wharf, so they went out to the little observation housein the middle of the pond right near the wharf. This pond was used bythe Government as a Fishery Station and there were scores of magnificentsalmon in the pond. The boys were much interested in watching thesewonderful game fish. They could see them swimming around andoccasionally one of them would jump clear out of the water after a flyor some other insect.

  "We'll have to catch a few like those this summer," said Mr. Watermanwith a glistening eye.

  "Will we really have a chance to catch salmon as large as those?" askedBob.

  "Oh, yes, on our Portneuf River trip, we should get some salmon just asfine as these," said Mr. Waterman.

  "What do you catch them with? I'm sure I have nothing big enough to holda fish like that," said Pud.

  "We catch them with the regular rod and fly," replied their leader.

  "Don't say 'we'; say 'I' catch them, for I should think it would have tobe a real fisherman that could land such a big fish with such a smallline and rod," said Pud.

  "That's why we're coming up here," said Bill Williams. "My ambition isto get one of those salmon and I don't want it unless I can catch itwith my regular tackle."

  "That's talking like a real fisherman and sportsman," said Mr. Waterman."Boys, this fishing is or should be considered a sport. That being so,we must make it a matching of our wits against that of the fish. Itshould not be merely our strength against theirs. We, as sportsmen,should give them a chance."

  "That's the idea," said Bob. "Well, I'll consider that I am developinginto a real fisherman when I am able to land one of those big fellows."

  Just then the boat whistle was heard and the boys hurried on board. Thevessel that was to take them to Escoumains was an old side-wheel steamerapparently of the vintage of about 1812. It did some wheezing andpuffing before it got straightened out for the trip. The boys lookedover the boat with interest, paying special attention to the people whowere on board. They were greatly interested in the talk and gestures ofthe Frenchmen that composed the crew and most of the passengers. Alittle old Frenchman with a fiddle also attracted their attention. Afew pennies soon had him playing away for dear life and calling off thefigures in French in a singsong voice.

  On their way down the river, the boat stopped at two places, at both ofwhich lumbering seemed to be the main industry. At last, the boat put infor Escoumains. Two large tramp steamers were anchored off the townloading lumber from big barges. The steamers drew too much water to getinto the town wharf, thus requiring two handlings of the lumber. Quite afew people were on the wharf. Mr. Anderson, one of Mr. Waterman's men,was awaiting them. As soon as they were off the boat, he had a carriageready and they were off for the little village a half mile away. Theystopped at Madame LaBlanche's boarding house, where Mr. Waterman hadmade arrangements for keeping their "store" clothes while they were outin the woods. They were shown upstairs and in a short time, the boyswere getting into their real wool suits. Mr. Waterman brought in theshoepacks that he had made for them according to the measurements he hadtaken previously. All fitted nicely, though Mr. Waterman looked overthem carefully.

  "It pays to be sure that your shoepacks are right," said Mr. Waterman,"for they are the real boots for use in canoeing trips. They should becomfortable."

  "Are these waterproof?" asked Bob. "Father told me that his shoepackswere tight as a drum and that he stepped right out of the canoe into thewater whenever he wanted to."

  "That's right," replied Mr. Anderson. "It is possible that they may leakjust a little the first two days until the seams swell, but after thatthey will be just as dry as rubber boots."

  This information caused Bill and Pud to look at their shoepacks withmore care. They were both anxious to try them out. Finally, they wereready for the woods, with everything unnecessary put away at MadameLaBlanche's. Their sleeping bags, extra shirts, moccasins, etc., werein their dunnage bags and all of these were piled outside the door onthe porch.

  "We still have about a half hour before lunch so let us go over to thestore, as I want you all to meet Sandy MacPherson, the owner," said Mr.Waterman. "Sandy is the big man of this village. He runs the big sawmill, owns the store and manages scores of lumbermen in the winter whenthe trees are cut many miles up the valleys. He's a good man to know aseverybody here does as he says. In addition, he talks English and thathelps when one cannot talk French very well."

  They all went over to the store and found it the center of male societyat least for the village. Several men were gathered there while otherscame and went, buying things in the store, which was quite a large storefor such a small village. Sandy seemed delighted to meet the boys.

  "I'm delighted to meet you, boys," said he. "You're in for a fine timeif you're going into the woods with Mr. Waterman. If you get in trouble,just call on me."

  The boys thanked him for his good wishes and after taking a look at thebig saw mill, they went back to the boarding house.

  "Fill up, boys, as this is the last meal you'll eat in a house for sometime," said Mr. Anderson.

  "That's all right, but I wager that they'll enjoy some of the meal
swe're going to have on Lac Parent or Corbeau more than any they have hadin a long time," said Mr. Waterman.

  Madame LaBlanche outdid herself at this lunch for she had a very goodchicken dinner for the boys, with pie, cake, preserved raspberries andcrabapples for dessert.

  "This is a fine meal to start one off for the woods," said Pud. "Icouldn't walk a step if you paid me five dollars."

  "You won't have to walk for some time," said Mr. Anderson. "We're goingto drive in about sixteen miles and I'll wager that this dinner will bepretty well digested by the time we get there. We're going in on an oldwood road so you will hardly find it like the macadamized roads you havein the park in Philadelphia."

  A short time later they were off. Two carriages were to take them intothe woods, each drawn by a hardy looking though rather smallFrench-Canadian horse and driven by a habitant. Bob was in the frontseat with the driver, with Pud and Mr. Waterman in the back seat. Billand Mr. Anderson were in the other buggy.

  "Well, here's a chance to begin talking French," said Mr. Waterman toBob. "Bill tells me that you spout it quite well."

  "Bill is exaggerating," said Bob. "I used to talk French rather well andI hope to pick it up soon again."

  "You will," said Mr. Waterman. "You will also find that these habitantsspeak a pretty good dialect of French. In no time, Bob, you will be ableto talk just like the natives."

  "Allons, Gi-may," cried the driver to the horse as he touched him withthe whip. The horse responded nobly and they bowled along right merrily.Bob tried to think what "Allons, Gi-may" meant. He got the first wordall right. That meant "Giddap or Go-along" in the vernacular but whatthat "Gi-may" meant he could not think. He did not want to ask Mr.Waterman so soon for information. Taking the bull by the horns, Bobbegan a conversation with the driver. To be sure it was very limited,for Bob had his troubles, but after a little while he got along verywell. He was soon asking the driver for the names of the various treesthey noted along the road. Bob thought that this would be valuable inthe woods. All the habitants in such a place as Escoumains are woodsmen,and the driver, as such, knew the names of everything in the woods. But,every once in a while, he would cry out "Allons, Gi-may" and Bob wouldwonder what that word "Gi-may" meant. Soon the road led by a smallfarmhouse that had about two acres cleared around it.

  "That's the last house you'll see," said the driver to Bob. Bob askedMr. Waterman if this was right.

  "That's right," said Mr. Waterman, "and you will soon know that it isso, for the road gets worse from now on."

  This proved correct and Pud was bounced around so that he had no troubledigesting his dinner.

  "This is some road," said Pud.

  "All the same, we must keep going for we want to ford the river beforedark," said Mr. Waterman.

  "What river?" asked Pud.

  "The Escoumains," said Mr. Waterman. "That is the name of the river atthe little village from which we started. The village is called afterthe river. You will get to know this river well before the summer isover, for we'll run down it to the village some time."

  "Are there any rapids?" asked Bob.

  "You can't find any river in this country without fast water here andthere," said Mr. Waterman. "The only difference is that some rivers havefaster water than others. After I have seen you on the lakes awhile andhave had the guides teach you a few things we'll take a try at some fastwater and you'll think that there is no better sport than shooting arapid."

  "It must be great fun," said Bob.

  Shortly afterwards, they struck the river and the road led up along thebank. It followed the windings of the river and it was slow work. Everynow and then the driver yelled "Allons, Gi-may," and Bob racked hisbrain to think what "Gi-may" meant. At last it came to him in a flash.He turned to the driver and asked in French,

  "Is the horse named Gi-may?"

  "Oh, yes," said the driver. "He belongs to Monsieur MacPherson and hecalls him Gi-may."

  "Oh, you mean Jimmy," said Bob.

  "But, yes, Gi-may," said the driver, and Bob had solved the riddle. Hethen told Mr. Waterman how he had tried to think what "Gi-may" meant,thinking at first that it meant something like "Allons" but that he hadfound out it was the horse's name.

  It was getting dark when they came to the ford. Mr. Anderson yelled likean Indian and his call was answered by a real Indian yell. A momentlater, two men appeared on the opposite bank.

  "That's Joe and Pierre," said Mr. Waterman.

  "How are we going to get across?" asked Pud.

  "That's easy," said Mr. Waterman.

  The driver answered Pud by driving the horse down the bank into thewater. The stream ran swiftly and the horse put his head down sniffingthe water as if frightened. The driver used the whip and the horseproceeded.

  "The river's pretty high," yelled Mr. Waterman to Mr. Anderson. "You hadbetter put those dunnage bags on the seat. That buggy of yours is lowerthan this one."

  "All right," came back the cry, almost drowned by the noise of thecarriage as it bumped on the rocks at the bottom of the river, the swishof the water and the noise of the horse's hoofs. Each took his dunnagebag on his lap and in the center of the river they had to lift up theirfeet as the water came into the body of the buggy. It almost seemed thatthey would be swept down the river. Bob looked at the driver and at Mr.Waterman. Both had a look of unconcern on their faces so Bob felt thatthings were all right. This turned out to be the case, for five minuteslater the horse came out on a sort of sand bar. The driver drove downstream a little and then, putting the whip to the horse, they tore up asteep bank and along a wood road. They had gone only a little distancebefore they came to an opening where they found Joe and Pierre busyabout a fire. The other buggy came up in a moment and everything wasdumped out on the side of the road. Mr. Waterman had bought a lot ofsupplies and this was the real reason why the two guides had met themfor they were needed to get the stuff back into the camp where theyplanned to stay for a week or more. After paying off the drivers, thelatter turned and drove back.

  "Are they going all the way back to Escoumains to-night?" asked Bob.

  "Yes," said Mr. Anderson. "They will go back as far as that logging campwe passed about four miles away. There they will give their horses alittle grain and as soon as the moon comes up they will be off, and backin Escoumains about midnight. Those little Canadian horses are verystrong and can stand a lot of hard work."

  Bob, Pud, and Bill stood around watching the guides and the two men asthey busied themselves about the fire.

  "Let's have supper first," said Mr. Waterman. "Afterwards we'll pack upthe stores we have brought in and get them ready to carry so that we canmake a real early start and get to our camp in Lac Parent in time forbreakfast."

  This was voted a good scheme by the others. Pierre was the guide thatwas most noticed by the boys. He was a full blooded Montagnais Indianand could not speak a word of English, though he talked French and hisown Indian tongue. He was straight as an arrow and moved with thelitheness and silence of the real Indian. Though his expression neverchanged, the boys could see that he missed nothing that went on abouthim. Joe was a little Frenchman. He could talk a little English and wasvery proud of that fact.

  "The dinnaire is prepair," said he to Bob with a smile.

  "Ah, that's the kind of French I can understand," said Pud, as he movedover towards the fire.

  "Now be prepared to shout," said Mr. Anderson. "Here's some real troutcaught within the hour and cooked as only Joe can cook them."

  He gave each of the boys a whole trout out of the frying pan and this,with bread, butter, prunes and coffee, was their supper. The trout washot and all three boys stated that they had never tasted anything betterin their lives. They all meant it too. At their praise, Joe's facelighted up, for he was proud of his cooking. They formed a real woodsmanpicture as they sat or squatted around the fire eating their supperwithout the use of plates or a table. The picture was rather out ofharmony, for the Indian and the Frenchman were the typical woodsme
n, thetwo older men hardened fishermen, but even the merest novice could seethat the three boys were unused to the woods and their presentsurroundings.

  But, in any case, the scene was not lost on the boys. The bright lightcast by the fire on the faces of the men and the dark shadows of thewoods formed a contrast that was fascinating to the boys. They could notkeep their eyes off Pierre with his silent but speedy movements, and hisimpassive face, nor from Joe, who formed such a contrast with hisanimation and gestures, his good-natured talk and his smile. Mr.Waterman and Mr. Anderson sat to the side talking in low tones, and theboys felt that these were two men worthy of their confidence. Theylooked as though they would be ready for any emergency that might arise.They were startled by a splash in the river. Pierre seemed to vanish asif by magic into the trees on the side towards the river. Though he wentwith great speed, the boys listened in vain to hear him tearing throughthe bushes. All ears were tensed but not a sound was heard.

  "Pierre will let us know what it is," said Mr. Waterman in amatter-of-fact tone, as he motioned the boys to sit down again. "Don'tworry, there's nothing up here to do us much harm. Even the bears runfrom us and it's necessary to hunt them carefully if you want to seeone, though we see traces of them every day."

  As they were talking, Pierre came back almost as quickly and silently ashe had gone. He sat down by the fire and said about three words to Mr.Waterman and relapsed into silence again.

  "'Big fish,' he says," translated Mr. Waterman.

  "It sounded like a deer to me," said Mr. Anderson.

  "We'll look for tracks in the morning before we leave," said Mr.Waterman.

  He then turned to Pierre and talked to him in French.

  "'No deer. Big fish,' he says," said Mr. Waterman as he turned around.

  "Well, if he's sure of it, he's right," said Mr. Anderson. "They haveways of knowing some of these wood matters that seem uncanny to us."

  "Well, let's get to bed," said Mr. Waterman.

  They all turned to their dunnage bags and got out their sleeping bags.Pierre and Joe had only a blanket and they lay down by the fire,wrapping the blanket around their shoulders but otherwise making nofurther preparation.

  "Is that the way they sleep all the time?" said Bob.

  "No, they probably did not want to burden themselves with anythingextra, as they have lots to carry to-morrow."

  The guides had cut down some boughs and the boys soon had a fine bedready. They were stretched out looking up at the stars in a very fewmoments and Bob felt that this was just the beginning of what promisedto be a most interesting summer. For some time he lay there, watchinglazily the fire as it occasionally threw into relief the green branchesof the trees, or made the shadows deeper and more mysterious. It was notlong, however, that he lay thus undisturbed, for the gnats, "lesmoustiques" as the guides called them, began to buzz around and made hislife miserable. Over the fire, Bob had not been much bothered by thispest but further away they soon became unbearable.

  "Ye gods!" said Pud, as he sat up in his blankets. "I'm getting eatenalive."

  "Let's make a smudge," said Bob. "That will help some."

  The two boys got up and soon had a real smudge throwing out a sicklysmoke over their blankets. All this time Bill slept peacefully. Itseemed that with his head buried in his blankets he was able to standthe gnats, but the smoke got him. Evidently a good puff got under hisblankets, for he woke up suddenly and said in a choked voice,

  "What in sin's going on? I'm choking. What's the idea?"

  Just then a swarm of gnats enveloped his head and he ducked under hisblankets. No more was said, for Bill knew why the smoke was there. Allthree covered up their heads and were soon asleep. It got real cold inthe middle of the night and the gnats became too torpid to move. Theboys slept like logs for they were tired. It could not have been morethan four o'clock when the cheery voice of Mr. Waterman was heardcalling them up.

  "Out of your blankets, boys. We're going all the way to Lac Parentbefore breakfast and that will take some hiking."

  In a few minutes, the camp was a scene of the greatest activity. Theguides filled large dunnage bags with the provisions that had beenbrought in. This was soon done and the boys had also packed theirblankets in their bags.

  "Is everything ready?" asked Mr. Waterman.

  "I think so," said Mr. Anderson. "You boys will have about all you canhandle to carry in your dunnage bags. We'll manage the rest all right, Iguess."

  The guides led off after loading themselves with two large bags. Each ofthem carried at least one hundred and fifty pounds. The Indian seemed tohandle his load with the greatest ease. He looked back and helped theboys adjust their bags more comfortably, or so that they would carrymore easily. They had gone only a half mile when they came to a smalllake. It was only a quarter mile across it, but the guides had canoesthere. The loads were soon in the boats and they got the other sidevery quickly. Then to the surprise of the boys, the Indian and Mr.Waterman got the packs on their backs and then, lifting the canoes, theygot them over their shoulders and away they went.

  "Gee whizz!" said Bill. "I thought you two had a big load on before butyou walk away with those canoes with ease."

  "There's a great knack in carrying canoes," said Mr. Waterman.

  "That's all right," said Pud. "But those two men must have at least twohundred pounds on their backs and they are going right along."

  "I'll admit," said Mr. Anderson, "that they have a larger load thanusual, but they are not going far and we'll relieve them on the nextportage."

  The way led up across a ridge. Part of it was rather steep and the boysfound themselves panting as they got to the top and began the descent tothe next little lake beyond. They found Mr. Waterman and Pierre alreadythere and with the canoes in the water.

  "That was some pull," said Mr. Waterman. "Pierre is in better conditionthan I am. He doesn't seem to mind it a bit, but I found that a littleheavy before breakfast."

  "We'll help with the dunnage on the next portage," said Bob. "My bagdoes not feel very heavy. Let me try the canoe."

  "I'll let you have the canoe," said Mr. Waterman, "but I'll take yourstuff."

  This was done. Mr. Waterman showed Bob how to arrange the paddles sothat they would rest on his shoulders. He also showed him the use of thesmall rope that Bob had noticed along the middle stay of the canoe. Thiswas put over the head so that when the canoe was rightly placed Bob wascarrying it on his shoulders, his forearms and also his head. He foundthe weight well distributed and he walked away like a veteran. He foundit awkward work at first to keep to the trail and to avoid bumping thecanoe into the trees. He soon got used to this and went along finely. Hehad no trouble until they got to the top of the little divide betweenthe two lakes and started down. They had gone down only a little piecebefore he stepped on a piece of slippery moss, his feet flew out fromunder him, and down he came with the canoe on top of him. Rathercrestfallen, he got up and began to arrange the paddles, etc., in placeagain.

  "Had a tumble?" said Mr. Waterman. "That was because you didn't have theweight well balanced coming down the hill. You'll soon learn. Do youneed any help with the canoe?"

  "No, I think that I can manage," said Bob.

  He then caught hold of the gunwales of the canoe and started to lift itover his head, but he plunged forward and down came the canoe again.

  "Let me help you this time," said Mr. Waterman. "When we get to camp andget rid of these packs, I'll show you just how to do it. It's easy whenyou know how."

  Bob once more had the canoe on his shoulders and arrived at the nextlake without further mishap. They found every one waiting for them. Theywere soon across and after one more portage, they reached Lac Parent.Far down the lake, they saw smoke rising.

  "Jean is waiting for us," said Mr. Anderson to Mr. Waterman.

  "Is there another guide?" asked Bob.

  "Oh, yes," replied Mr. Waterman. "We have Pierre's son with us. He wastold to have breakfast ready for us at six o'clock and I'll b
et he'sbeen waiting for some time, as it has taken us a little longer than Iexpected to get here."

  The two canoes sped down the lake. The boys looked around with muchinterest. There was a real mountain on the far shore of the lake, partof which came down to the water very precipitously. The small islandsin the lake made it more picturesque. They soon rounded a point of landand came full on the camp lying before them. With its line of tents, thesmoke curling up from the fire, and the beauty of the forests in thebackground, it made a scene that would rejoice any fisherman's eye. Asthey came to the shore, Jean came running down. He was a big fellow forhis age, seventeen. He had very regular features like his father, andwas remarkably well built.

  The boys landed and one and all felt that at last they were fairly inthe woods and ready for whatever might befall.