Bob Hunt in Canada Page 6

  CHAPTER VI

  PIERRE'S BEAR STORY

  The boys slept a little later the next morning, though when they did getup it was evident that Jack had been long busy. The entire stock of grubgotten the day before had been put away neatly and carefully and thedunnage bags and tump lines were piled in a heap at one end of thetable. They spent the day quietly, fishing, swimming and fixing upthings around the camp. They had an early supper and were down by theirfire talking and joking. The guides were soon up in their tent, talkingand showing much more life than usual. This gave Bob an idea, and heproposed that they would go and visit the guides. This seemed good toall and they went over to the guides' tent. They were welcomed solemnlyand quietly. It was evident that they considered their tent as theirpart of the camp.

  For the time being, they were the hosts and they were evidentlyflattered by the visit from the boys. Jack soon had the attention of Pudand Bill and it was with a merry twinkle in his eye that he told of manyincidents in his life either in hunting or in the lumber camps. Bobbeing the only boy to understand French was soon in animated discussionwith Joe and Pierre. The Indian under the questioning of the boy forsookhis usual taciturnity, and in the most casual way told Bob of exploitsin hunting and fishing that would make most interesting reading. To theIndian, they were events likely to happen to any one that goes out inthe dead of winter to trap and hunt. Bob was a most interested listenerand it was not until he had been called to twice by Bill that he awoketo the fact that it was nearly ten o'clock.

  "Mr. Waterman says that we had better not keep the guides up too long orthey will not want to be visited again," said Bill.

  "I didn't think we had been here so long," replied Bob.

  They said "Good Night" to the guides and were soon fast asleep.

  The next day was another quiet one. The boys fished in the morning andthey had very good luck. It was a good day for fishing and but few ofthe speckled beauties got away from the boys, who were becoming moreexpert every day. Even Pud had caught the hang of casting and promisedto be the best fisherman of the lot.

  In the afternoon, Bob proposed another visit to the mountain opposite,the same one where they had so nearly come to grief before.

  "Go ahead," said Mr. Anderson, "but for your own sake, be careful."

  "We'll promise not to get into trouble," said Pud. "We just need alittle exercise and that climb will about fill the bill."

  They started off and in a short time Mr. Waterman and Mr. Anderson, whowere busy down on the water front putting the finishing touches to thelanding place, saw them seated in the lee of a big rock looking out overthe country. There they sat and for nearly two hours they could be seenwith heads close together, evidently very much interested in theirconversation. The fact of the matter was that Pud and Bill had asked Bobto tell them what the guides had told him the previous evening. As theysat up on the mountain, they looked far off to the south and saw themighty St. Lawrence dividing the country as if with a giant silverknife.

  "The Indians have had lots of experiences up north of here, hunting andtrapping in the winter time," Bob began.

  "What did Pierre tell you?" asked Pud. "Has he ever scalped any one?"

  "You big dub," said Bill. "Indians don't go on scalping expeditions anymore."

  "Well, I thought that maybe some other Indian tribe might have tried toattack them," said Pud.

  "Don't be foolish," said Bob. "There are few Indians up in this countryand I guess from what Pierre tells me that they have enough troublesfighting for their lives against the forces of nature to keep them fromthinking of fighting one another. In addition, the Canadian Governmentwould soon put a stop to that. Anyway, these Indians are just as peaceloving as any white man."

  "I suppose you're right," said Pud. "All the same, I like to think of anIndian with tomahawk in hand having a fierce fight for his life withsome other Indians or with the pale faces."

  "You've been brought up on Nick Carter," laughed Bill. "Get that foolishrot out of your mind. Indians are just ordinary human beings and that isall."

  "I don't know about that," said Pud. "That young Jean is some boy forhis age. He can follow a trail just like the Indians we read of, and heknows all about the woods, animals, birds and all that. He's certainlylike the Indians we read of in history."

  "Yes," said Bob. "Jean is a fine specimen. He has all the good points ofour ancestors, the real aborigines, without their failings."

  "But what about Pierre? You were talking a long time with him, Bob,"said Bill. "What was so interesting?"

  "He was telling me of his winter hunting trips and he has had somethrilling experiences. He says that every year he gets ready just assoon as the snow flies in the fall. This generally means about themiddle of November in this country. As soon as the earth is blanketedwith snow, he gets his dogs and sleds ready and starts out withprovisions to last for three months. Since his boy has grown up hetakes him with him. Sometimes they make up a small party of three orfour. It is always better to have two or three companions because Pierresays that it is not well to go alone into this wild, lonely region, forthen a simple accident might mean death. He told me of several incidentswhere his life was in danger and only his quickness and presence of mindsaved his life.

  "Once, early in the spring, he had stayed too long in the woods. Thetrapping had been good and he had hated to leave while the skins wereheaping up. At last a real thaw came and he had to start for Escoumains.He was about sixty miles north of here, he said, and he rushed alongwith his dogs wallowing in the snow at every step. When he came to thePort Neuf River, he found the ice just ready to go out. As he got in themiddle of the river, it started to break up. He feverishly drove aheadand though he lost part of his load, he got to the other side. His sonwas not so fortunate, for on looking back, he saw him on a big ice floatthat had become separated from the shore. He yelled to Jean, who wasthen only fifteen years of age, and directed him what to do. The icesuddenly began to break up, and he followed his son down the rivernearly a mile before he could get to land, and then he was on the wrongside of the river.

  "Signing to him to stay where he was, Pierre had to retrace his steps toget his dogs and sleigh. He found them nearly frozen to death, for withthe going down of the sun, it began to get very cold. He at last rousedthem and started down the river. He could see the water steadily risingand knew that it would be only a short time until he would have to getback to higher ground. By hurrying, he reached a point opposite to whereJean was. He yelled across and his cry was answered. He then starteddown the river, hoping that in some place the ice would still beholding. After going about two miles, the river narrowed and the ice hadpiled up into a jam. It was threshing around, munching and crunchinglike some giant monster. He stopped there and waited for the moon torise.

  "The night had become cold and the fore part of the jam seemed frozeninto a solid mass. He determined to risk a crossing. Strappingeverything tightly on the sleigh, he called to the dogs. They werefrightened and he had to lick them to get them started. Four or fivetimes on the way across he thought they were lost, but they finally gotto the other side. Everything was drenched and he found himself in greatdanger of freezing to death, and he found Jean in almost as bad shape.Their first care was to find some rising ground. After slipping intoseveral pools of icy water, they at last got to a small hill. Withfrost-bitten fingers and frozen feet, they both were almost helpless. Byexercising the greatest determination, they at last succeeded in makinga fire and they gradually warmed themselves.

  "So far, their experience had been very disheartening. They had lost oneload of furs, together with the sled and the dogs. In addition, two ofPierre's five dogs died before morning from their exposure to the icywaters. The next morning, they found themselves marooned on their littlehill. The jam could be seen still holding and the waters had been backedup far over the banks. There was nothing to do except to wait for thejam to break. This it did that afternoon and the waters went out with amighty roar, no doubt carrying dev
astation down through the valley. Thismade it possible for them to leave their refuge, but they did not daredo so at once for the thaw had continued all that day and it would havebeen impossible for the dogs to make any headway.

  "After careful deliberation, the father and son determined to make theirway if possible down the river about twelve miles to an old lumber camp.They started about midnight to take advantage of the frost that had puta hard surface on the snow. The dogs went along finely for they were nottoo heavy for the crust on the snow. Time after time, the two men brokethrough, frequently going up to their hips in water. They kept going andby dawn they had covered about half the distance. They again sought ahillock and once more thawed out their frosted hands and feet. Bothsuffered intensely because of the hardships they had undergone. Theyagain started a fire going and got a little sleep for the first time intwo days.

  "They repeated their previous night's experience again and at lastarrived at the lumber camp. Their troubles were then nearly over forthey found a canoe there. This they determined to confiscate as they hadbut few provisions since most of their supplies had been lost on thesled that had gone under the ice. They rested up a whole day and then asthe ice had practically all gone down the river, they set out. The riverwas very high and they came near swamping on several occasions but atlast they came to the mouth of the river and reached their friendssafely. Pierre stated that he lost two toes through the frost on thatadventure. He said that it taught him a lesson for if he had not been sogreedy for pelts and had come out when he knew he ought to, he wouldhave had no trouble."

  "That was an ugly experience," said Bill. "I guess it gets pretty coldup here in the winter time."

  "Yes, Pierre says that it often gets to forty below zero," replied Bob."He says that in such weather, he wears three suits and then can keepwarm only by sticking close to the fire or by continual motion whenoutside."

  "Three suits! And I think that one heavy suit is a little too much attimes. But did Pierre tell you any more of his experiences?" inquiredPud.

  "Yes," said Bob. "He told me a great bear story, but it's getting latenow, so don't you think I better tell you that to-night after supper? Ifwe go back to camp now, we can have a swim before supper."

  "Sure, that's a go," said Bill.

  The boys were soon back in camp, and seen splashing around in the coolwater. So after supper they sat around the fire that evening filled withthe real and lasting content that comes only from living close tonature.

  "What were you young fellows so interested in this afternoon over on themountain?" asked Mr. Anderson, interrupting the peaceful silence. "I sawyou up there, for the longest time with your heads together as if youwere plotting the destruction of the world."

  "Far from that. Bob was telling us some of the experiences that Pierrehas had in his winter hunting," replied Bill.

  "Pierre has certainly had some interesting experiences. It is rarelythat one can get him to talk, but when he does he always has somethingworth telling," said Mr. Anderson.

  "Yes, and he relates incidents of the most desperate character in thatsame colorless tone, just as if they were the most ordinary routine,"said Mr. Waterman.

  "Say, Bob, tell us the bear story you promised?" demanded Pud.

  "Let's get Pierre to tell it himself," suggested Bob.

  "That would be all right for you, but you forget that we do notunderstand French," said Bill.

  "I forgot about that. He's a clever Indian for he talks two languagesquite well and can make himself understood in English," said Bob.

  "What two languages can he talk?" asked Pud.

  "He speaks the Montagnais language," replied Mr. Waterman. "He is aMontagnais Indian of the very same stock as was seen by Jacques Cartierwhen he first landed at Tadousac when he was going up the St. LawrenceRiver hoping to discover a new route to China."

  "Well, tell us the bear story anyway," said Mr. Anderson.

  "We want to hear it."

  Scenting a good tale, they all moved closer to the fire, and Bob began.

  "Pierre says that this experience with the bear happened in the latespring. He had been back from his winter's hunting about a month and thespring had opened up very finely. One day, the call to nature was tooinsistent. He got out his gun, told his wife to tell Mr. MacPherson atthe store that he would not be down to the big saw mill to work for afew days, and he started back into the country. The rivers were ratherswollen then, the woods were wet and damp, but there was the rush oflife in the trees and in the very air itself. Pierre swung along withJean by his side, his heart full of happiness. He had had a goodwinter's hunt and his wife had money for everything necessary. But morethan anything else he wanted the golden sunshine, the ripple of thewaters in the stream, the curved body of the salmon as they darted outof the water in their eagerness to get up the streams. He told his boythat though they had come out for game, he really just wanted to be inthe woods when the buds were coming out and when he could feel the sapdriving up from the ground into the furthest shoots of the bushes andtrees. Jean's face was just as bright as his own and he raised his headand sniffed the air as if in answer to the voice of spring that reignedeverywhere.

  "Back they went along the wood road. They stopped for lunch at the footof a riffle where they very soon caught all the trout they wished tofind. They made their whole lunch on the fish, using only a little saltto make it palatable; a simple fare but really good enough for a king.On they went after lunch and they were lucky enough to bag fourpartridges as they went along. Early in the afternoon, they came to anold lumber camp and they decided to stay there for the night. It canwell be imagined that though Pierre and his son said little to eachother, they were enjoying themselves just like two boys playing hookeyfrom school. They had spent the winter in the freedom and wildness ofthe woods and a month of the dreary grind in the saw mill had made themas restive as colts.

  "They made a fine supper off the partridges and were up early the nextmorning. The remains of the partridges and some freshly caught trout setthem on their way again with well filled stomachs and happy hearts. Theyhad not gone far before Pierre stopped dead. 'I smell bear,' said he toJean. 'Big black one,' said Jean, as he looked around. How he had knownthat it was big and black will remain one of the mysteries thatdistinguish the real Indian from his woodland imitators. They lookedaround and sure enough they had not gone far before they saw an oldhollow tree that had been scratched and torn by the bear's big claws inhis eagerness to get the grubs that no doubt were living among therotting wood. They followed the bear's tracks. Jean in his eagernesswent ahead and the father watched his boy with pride as he followed theindistinct tracks with swiftness and sureness. Finally the bear led themup one of the numerous mountains that are a feature of this country, asyou know. Soon the tracks could be followed only with the greatestdifficulty. Pierre was soon in the van and about noon he stopped deadand pointed off about half a mile where they saw the bear himself busytearing away at another rotting tree.

  "As they were somewhat to the windward side of the bear, they turned offand went down the valley. An hour's swift walking and climbing broughtthem out on the ridge on which they had seen the bear. Jean in hiseagerness had gone ahead again. Just as they rounded a point of rock,the bear rose up almost on top of Jean. He had only a small caliberrifle, but he gave it to the bear at once. The bullet cut a hole in thebeast's shoulder and with a growl of rage he rushed at the boy. Jeangave him another, but it only seemed to enrage the bear the more, for heplunged right on and threw Jean back with a mighty thrust.

  "In the meantime, Pierre was in terror, not for himself but for Jean. Onthe rather narrow ledge, he found his boy right in line with the bearand he did not dare shoot for fear of killing him. When the bulletsfrom the small rifle failed to stop the rush of the wounded bear, Pierrerushed forward, and as the bear thrust Jean back, he stepped over thebody of the boy, gave him a bullet from his rifle point blank andthrowing away his gun, he plunged his hunting knife into the bear withall his might
just as the monster flung him off as though he were aplaything.

  "Pierre says that about ten or twenty minutes later, perhaps half anhour, he awoke to consciousness and started up on one elbow half dazed.He felt that he had just narrowly escaped death, but for a moment hecould not just remember what had happened. Then the whole thing rushedback to his mind and he got unsteadily to his feet. He found that he hada bad scalp wound and a big bump on the back of his head which he hadhit on falling. When he got his dazed eyes to seeing properly, he was atfirst horror-struck, for the bear lay half over his Jean. The latter waslying on his back with his breast laid bare by the cruel claws of thebear, deathly pale and to all appearances dead. One look at the bearshowed Pierre that it was dead. He hauled it with difficulty off hisboy's legs and then felt his heart.

  "At first, he could distinguish no movement and he was almost overcomeby grief, but a slight heart movement galvanized him into action. He atonce looked around and seeing a spring a short distance away, he ran,and filling his coonskin cap with water he was back by the side of theboy in a moment. Signs of life finally returned and Jean was soonlooking around trying with glazed eyes to come back from the HappyHunting Grounds to which his soul had just paid such a fleeting visit.In a short time, father and son were fully back to consciousness but itwas only after a night spent right there that they felt like real livemen again.

  "Jean had a very ugly slash across his chest and the father felt surethat at least two of his ribs had been broken by the savage blow thebear had dealt him. Though pretty sore himself, he felt fairly well,though his scalp wound left no doubt that he had come near to death.They camped there that day enjoying the bear steaks and getting off theskin. In fact, it was not until two days later, that they set out on theback trail. Then, though they presented a rather dilapidated appearance,they managed to carry off the skin of the bear and the best portions ofthe meat. Jean with his broken ribs went light and then had trouble infollowing his sturdy father, who thought very little of having tackled abear with his hunting knife. Pierre told me," concluded Bob, "that hefound that the death stroke given the bear was dealt by his huntingknife just as the bear closed in on him."

  "What a narrow escape! And I guess they think such events arecommonplace. Let's go up to their tents and ask them to show us thescars," said Pud.

  "Don't you believe Pierre, then?" asked Mr. Anderson.

  "Sure," said Pud, "but I would like to see the scars. It would make thewhole story more real."

  Thereupon the boys went up to the tent and Bob talked to Pierre inFrench. Pierre then pulled back the hair and showed the boys a whitescar across his head and Jean showed them a ragged scar that made Pud'sflesh creep.

  "Gee," said Pud, "that bear must have given Jean some rip. Ask Pierrehow he got that wound to heal."

  Bob did so and Pierre explained that he put some healing herbs on thewounds and that they got well very quickly.

  "De rib, she no get well queeck," said Pierre, turning to Pud. "She verasore, some long time."

  "You two certainly had a narrow escape," said Mr. Anderson, as the wholeparty, admiring the wonderful bravery and courage of these Indians, saidgood-night.

  "I wonder if any such thing as that would happen to us?" asked Bill.

  "Maybe," said Mr. Waterman aloud, but to Mr. Anderson, "in their sleep Iguess."

  By this time the boys were ready for bed and they were soon lying snuglyin their sleeping bags, no doubt dreaming of bears and what they woulddo if they saw a big black bear come rushing down on them when they wereon a narrow ledge.

  Some such dream was surely surging through the brains of Pud and Bill,for Bob was awakened by an awful racket and nearly smothered to death byfeeling two heavy bodies plunk down on him.

  "Hey, there, get up!" yelled Bob.

  It seemed that Pud and Bill had dreamt of the bear. Bill in his dreamjumped up just as the dream bear was rushing on him, and fell on Pudjust as Pud in his dream was set grimly to await the onset of themonster. Bill, though half awake, was sure the bear had him, and Pud wasjust as sure when Bill grabbed him that he was in the clutches of amighty black bear. They threshed around a moment and did not really wakeup until they fell on Bob and nearly smothered him. Bob had been toosleepy to dream of bears, but he got up very quickly. After a heartylaugh at their vivid dreams, the boys got into their blankets again andwere not disturbed until morning.