Bob Hunt in Canada Page 9

  CHAPTER IX

  A WEEK ON THE TRAIL

  The previous days had been so full of excitement that they hadaltogether forgotten that they were to go on a week's trip. Mr. Watermanwent ahead making preparations. On Sunday evening, after the shortdevotions they always held on that day, said he:

  "Boys, you remember that we are going on an exploring trip this week. Soget ready. You will have to carry everything with you, so take thosethings that are absolutely necessary. In addition, remember that each ofyou boys is expected to carry his share of the grub for the week."

  The boys began to plan and they went to their blankets filled with theidea of taking a real trip under old-time voyageur conditions.

  "Supposing it rains?" suggested Pud.

  "Well, what of it?" replied Bob. "Do you think that we're sugar and thata little rain will hurt us?"

  "Don't worry very much," said Mr. Waterman. "If we have any really badweather you will be surprised how quickly the guides will make a woodhut out of birch bark, and a few supports quickly cut in the woods."

  Very early the next morning they were astir. Bob had to give manysuggestions to Pud and Bill, too, but at last they had their duffle allready so that by means of tump lines they could not only bear their ownblankets and sleeping bags, but also their share of the week's supplies.

  "We are going north," said Mr. Waterman.

  "Let's go to the spy's cabin," said Pud.

  "Ah, do," chimed in Bill. "You see, Pud and I had no part in thatadventure."

  "Very well," said Mr. Waterman, "it won't be a bad thing for us to gothere and see how much of the place the Government agents have left."

  "Have the police been there?" asked Bob.

  "You can bet they've been there," said Mr. Waterman. "A party leftEscoumains the very day we were there."

  They were a picturesque party as they set out. Pierre was the only oneleft behind. Jean, Jack and Joe were there; Joe with his little pointedhat, mackinaw and shoe pack, looking all the world like the pictures ofthe old voyageurs that one sees in the illustrations of the early Frenchoccupation of Canada. With the three guides, Mr. Waterman, Mr. Anderson,and the three boys, there were eight in the party. Mr. Waterman led theway, taking Bob in his canoe. Jack had Pud with him, Jean was pairedwith Bill, while Mr. Anderson and Joe brought up the "honorable rear,"as they say in Japan. In their blue shirts, khaki trousers, bandannahandkerchiefs around their necks and shoe packs, they looked ready totackle a journey to James Bay. In fact, Jean and Joe had both made thetrip to James Bay and back, over the Great Divide almost due north ofTadousac, going first up the St. John River from Chicoutimi. They wouldhave been quite willing to make the trip again but, no doubt, they wouldhave objected to the presence of the boys on such a trip. Such a canoejourney needs real woodsmen and is not for novices such as the boyswere.

  They were soon over into the lake from which the path led to the spy'scabin. Mr. Waterman steered straight for the trail. They got out andwere soon over the short divide and into the big gulch. They found thecabin still standing and apparently with everything just as it had beenleft by them. When, however, they came to the wireless on the top of themountain, they could not find a trace of it. It had been taken awayentirely. The boys enjoyed the view from the top of the mountain.

  "I almost believe that in clear weather Field and his mates couldrecognize the ships on the St. Lawrence if they had strong glasses, asthey most probably had," said Mr. Waterman.

  "Yes, it's so clear to-day," said Mr. Anderson, "that your idea seemsnot only possible but very probable. This was a very fine place for sucha purpose. They could read the wireless messages that were sent fromvessels going or coming from Quebec, and if they could get out to theUnited States now and then they could very easily keep their Governmentinformed as to the movements of the British vessels, at least the mostimportant vessels plying in and out of Quebec."

  In a short time they were down the mountain and at the cabin once more.

  "I must come in here some time and look for the outlet of this gulch,"said Mr. Waterman. "There is quite a big watershed here, and the factthat there is no lake shows that there is a good outlet. Unless thisoutlet is underground it will lead down to either the Portneuf River orthe Escoumains or some lake that empties into one or other of thesestreams."

  "Have we time to look for it now?" asked Mr. Anderson.

  "No," was the reply, "I have planned the trip for the week and it willbe best to make a day's trip here just for the purpose."

  They then went on their way and were soon over into another lake.

  "Do you think you can stand another carry?" asked Mr. Waterman, turningto the boys.

  "Sure," said Bob.

  "Ab-so-lute-el-y," said Bill.

  "All right," replied Pud.

  "Why so modest?" asked Mr. Anderson.

  "I find it hard work," said Pud. "I not only have to carry my load butabout twenty-five pounds of superfluous flesh. I guess I can stand it ifthey can. I'm here to get in shape, so go ahead."

  "We can stay here just as well and go on to the other lake in themorning. It is only mid-afternoon now, though," said Mr. Waterman, "andwe could make the next lake easily. I plan to stay there all dayto-morrow."

  "Don't mind me," said Pud.

  So they went ahead. Bob carried the canoe and a duffle bag full of grub,while Mr. Waterman kept piling on stuff until he had at least onehundred and fifty pounds on his back. With a tump line over hisforehead, he moved ahead, apparently little concerned about the weightof his load. Mr. Anderson and the guides were also similarly loaded. Pudelected to carry his bag and the portion of the grub. Jack kept onpiling up the stuff with a merry wink to Bob. Finally they moved off.The carry proved to be about a mile and a quarter long. They had to goup a fairly steep hill first. All did very well, though Pud was puffingand blowing like a porpoise and sweating like a foundryman when theystopped at the top of the hill for a short rest. They were soon on theirway again. Jack stayed behind with Pud and the others were soon lost toview. Bob and Mr. Waterman walked ahead at a good pace and were soon atthe lake, which opened out before them most invitingly. They were all inswimming when at last Jack and Pud hove in sight. Pud was certainty thepicture of fatigue.

  "Don't overdo it, Jack," said Mr. Waterman. "That was really too big aload for him to carry."

  "I guess you're right," replied Jack. "I put it on him more for a jokethan anything else, intending to take it myself later. But that kid'sgame. He would not let me have it, although I thought he would melt awaybefore we got here. I won't overload him again. When he gets back toPhiladelphia he'll be hard as a rock. With his gameness and his weightand strength, he should tear things loose on that football team. I don'tknow much about the game, but they tell me it's rough.

  "It is a little rough," said Mr. Waterman, who himself had been a notedplayer when he went to college. "A little roughness in sport is reallynecessary for the full development of boys. They must get that personalcontact and feel that they have to get the best of the other fellowthrough their own efforts. If this is done fairly, the roughness willnot deteriorate into anything dangerous."

  In the meantime Pud prepared for a swim, which was certainly a rewardfor him after such a long stretch of portage.

  "Oh, you water," said Pud, as he luxuriously lay out on his backfloating. "That last carry was some hike. It had all the Plattsburgfull-equipment hikes beaten to death. I'm just going to load my paterdown some day with what I had on my back and then ask him how he wouldlike to tote that over a young mountain."

  "You did very well, Pud," said Mr. Waterman. "I did not notice how muchJack was piling on you or I would have taken part of it myself."

  "Not on your life," said Pud. "I'm here, and that extra sweat I had willdo me good. I told Jack I would switch with him now and then. I did notrealize what a load he had. On the previous carries he walked along justas if he was out for a little jaunt. He's getting old, too. I don't seehow how he does it."

  "They
get used to it and know just how to distribute the load so that itwill be carried most easily," said Mr. Waterman.

  While the boys were enjoying the water, the guides were busy. Alreadythey had cut a couple of poles, and with the aid of two trees they hadmade a very serviceable fireplace and was getting ready to makebiscuits.

  "Hey, you boys," called Mr. Waterman, "get busy. We'll clear up aroundhere, but you fellows get out and catch us some trout for supper."

  "Nothing easier," said Bob, as he came ashore and put on his clothes. Ina little while they were all three out on the lake casting likeveterans. Bob was in one canoe alone while Pud paddled Bill in the othercanoe. In a very short time they had over thirty fine trout, and at ashout from Jack they came back to camp.

  "Well, did you have any luck?" asked Jack, as they came to the shore.

  "Bully!" said Bob. "This lake is full of trout as fine as I have everseen."

  "No wonder," replied Jack. "There is no one here to catch them, and theykeep on increasing."

  "Well, I'll reduce the supply if we stay here a few days," said Pud. "Icould eat an ox, let alone a few trout."

  "You'll get all you want to eat and then some," said Jack.

  The fish were soon cleaned, and twenty minutes later they sat around atable made of two big logs with birch bark spread over it. It was notquite so comfortable as in their home camp, where they had a rude benchto sit on, but not one of them even thought of any such luxuries. Theyhad had a strenuous day with but a very small lunch, and they were ashungry as wolves. The way the biscuits, the trout and everything elsedisappeared was a tribute to Jack's cooking. Even Pud at last drew backfrom the improvised table fully satisfied.

  "The Germans have a proverb to the effect that 'Hunger is the bestcook,'" said Mr. Anderson.

  "That's true," broke in Pud, "but when you have a fine cook and hungertoo, then there is real enjoyment in eating even the most simple fare."

  "Well said, old top," remarked Bill. "'But first tell me when you got tobe a philosopher."

  "The best time to philosophize," said Mr. Waterman, "is just after sucha meal as we have had. Then there is such a sense of bodily satisfactionthat everything else appears to us as if detached from our own selves.The true philosophers are the woodsmen. They have time to think overlife and its many chances, and they get to know things at their trueworth. That is why men who are brought up near to nature are always suchgood judges of character either in men, women, or animals."

  "Now we are philosophizing," said Mr. Anderson. "I think you're right,though, for practically the only true philosophers that I have everknown are men of the woods. Pierre is a good example of this. His viewsof life and death would do credit to Dr. Talmage or any other of ourgreat preachers."

  "Well, all I can say is this," said Pud, "I'm glad I'm here."

  At this everybody laughed, for it was typical of big, hearty, jovialPud, that any real serious conversation should go over his head, eventhough his own ideas may have started the talk.

  After supper the boys got their sleeping bags ready and everything elseso placed that they would not be wet by the dew, which is very heavy inthe Saguenay region. Then, like true sons of Nimrod, they once moresought the limpid waters of the little lake in quest of the ever elusiveand ever interesting trout. They all had good luck, which guaranteedthem a hearty breakfast. As Bob and Pud came back to the camp they foundJack out on a log casting. The woods were back of him and almostdirectly above him, but in some uncanny way he managed to cast his flyjust where and just as far as he wanted to. As they came by he showedthem a dozen fine specimens that he had hooked.

  "Why go so far from camp?" said he, in his quizzical way. "They bitejust as good here."

  "For you," said Bob. "You're a wizard with the fly, but for a poornovice like myself it is better to seek the fish where they are prettysure to be found. I'm no Pied Piper of Hamlin to be able to draw fish tomy fly as he did rats with his pipe."

  The camp fire proved more than usually attractive that evening. Allgathered around, even the guides, after they had straightened everythingup.

  "Well, we don't need to worry much now," said Mr. Waterman. "We'll stayright here to-morrow and have a good day's fishing and possiblyhunting."

  "What kind of hunting?" asked Pud.

  "I was thinking merely of a partridge or two," replied Mr. Waterman.

  "Arc you going to use your sleeping bag to-night?" asked Bob.

  "Sure thing," replied Mr. Anderson. "We're going to have a fine night,but about four o'clock to-morrow morning you are liable to make theacquaintance of some of those moustiques or gnats that Pierre tellsabout. If you are in your sleeping bag you can then just pull over theflap and have another snooze."

  "It certainly looks like fine weather," said Bill. "I think that I'llget up real early and visit that trout hole I found to-night. They justjumped at the fly. It was almost dark when I struck the place, so I hadtime only for a 'strike' or two."

  "I'm with you," said Pud, with a yawn.

  "Swell chance," said Bob. "We won't be able to waken you to-morrowmorning until you hear Jack's voice yelling that breakfast is ready."

  "Is that so?" replied Pud. "Now, don't you believe it. I've turned overa new leaf, and I'm going to get up promptly from now on."

  "The only thing you'll turn over to-morrow at dawn is yourself foranother nap," said Bill.

  "Just try me and you'll see," said Pud.

  "You're on," was the reply, "but I warn you that I'll call you justonce."

  Just then Mr. Waterman broke in by asking Joe if this was not the lakewhere he had had such an experience with wolves some years before. Joenodded. The boys immediately wanted to know the story. Bob sat down byJoe and was soon lost as he listened to the vivacious tale of the Frenchhabitant.

  "That isn't fair," said Bill, to no one in particular.

  "What isn't fair?" asked Mr. Anderson.

  "Why, Bob knows French, so he is having Joe tell him the wolf story.We'd like to know that too."

  "It is really a fairly common occurrence; at least was some years ago inthis country," said Mr. Anderson.

  "But Bob will tell us, won't you?" said Pud, turning to him.

  "Sure." So Bob began the interesting tale.

  "Joe was up here with Pierre and another Indian hunting some years ago.The winter had been a very severe one with a wealth of snow. On thisaccount, the wolves had been able to get but little to eat. They werethen much more numerous than they are to-day. At that time there was abounty on wolves and hundreds of heads were turned in to the governmenteach winter and spring. Joe and his party were coming back to Escoumainsafter a good winter's hunt. They stopped on the next lake at a hunter'sshack that was there at that time. As the weather promised to keep cold,they determined to stay there, feeling that if the spring should comewith a rush that they would be able to get down to Escoumains, as it wasonly a week's journey distant.

  "They therefore set their traps and went methodically about theirbusiness of gathering in the furry harvest made profitable to themthrough the desires of 'My Lady' in the large cities, whose fair necksmust be covered and protected from even the cold autumn's breath. Onefine day Joe set out to make the round of the traps. He had good luckand was going home about four o'clock in the afternoon, laden with twofoxes and four rabbits. Joe was hurrying on, for there was no moon andthe shades of night fall very early in these latitudes even in March.They had heard a wolf occasionally, but had felt no fear of them, sothat when Joe heard the long-drawn note, he did not give it even athought. He was intent on getting back before nightfall, so he failed tonote that the howls were rapidly approaching.

  "As he reached the surface of the lake, which was of course frozentightly at that time of year, he was astonished to hear the howl of awolf, immediately followed by other howls only a short distance in hisrear. He hurried on, but before he could get across the lake, he sawseveral dark forms dash out on the ice behind him. He broke into a run,but the pack rapidly overtook him. Raisi
ng his gun to fire, he wasthunderstruck to find that in some way he had jammed the trigger andthat it would not work.

  "He did not have any time to waste, so he threw down two rabbits andhurried on. The wolves stopped only a moment, when they came to therabbits. He could hear them snarling and quarreling over their smallcarcasses. He felt his blood run cold and wondered if he was to be tornto pieces in like manner. Once more the pack came on, so he threwanother couple of rabbits to them and ran ahead. They got quite near tohim the next time, so he dropped the remainder of his load and fled forthe shore. He felt that his only chance lay in getting ashore and up atree. As he ran he tried to fix the trigger of his gun, but he could notget it working. He was quite near the shore now, but the wolves wereclose behind. With a last desperate rush, he sprang up the steep bank.Turning around, he was just in time to strike down with his clubbed guna big gray form that leaped at him with gleaming fangs. This luckystroke probably saved Joe's life, for the rest of the pack stopped todevour their comrade, thus giving Joe time to get safely into thebranches of a tree. The wolves, now with bloody mouths and glaringeyeballs, surrounded the tree and let out howls of such fierceness thatthey made Joe tremble even though he knew that he was safe for thepresent. He was only about a mile and a half away from their shack, andhe knew that if he did not turn up, that sooner or later Pierre would beout to hunt him.

  "But, can you imagine how pleasant it must be to be up in a tree, withbroken gun, a dozen hungry wolves beneath you and a cold night comingon? Already Joe began to get very cold, for in his race across the lakethrough the heavy snow he had broken out into a heavy perspiration. Asdarkness came down he could feel the cold hand of King Frost, as itwere, reaching for him and trying to throw him down to the beasts below.This idea took possession of Joe's mind and he fought it off with allhis strength. He tried as best he could in the gathering darkness to fixhis gun, but it was hopelessly jammed. At last he gave this up andsettled down to wait for the morning, which would surely bring Pierre tohis rescue.

  "As the cold became greater, his desire to sleep became the stronger. Hefelt himself nodding several times and once awoke just as he was on thepoint of falling from the tree. He grabbed a branch lower down, but hisfeet swung beneath and before he could get back safely on the limb oneof the watchful band below by a mighty leap snapped at his leg and tooka piece cleanly out of the calf, tearing his trousers leg almostentirely off him. The smell of the blood put the wolves into a frenzyand they tried again and again to reach him by leaping. They seemedmaddened by hunger, for when one of their number fell after making amighty upward bound, the pack was on him in a minute, and before thehorrified eyes of Joe, they tore their mate to pieces and in ten minutesthere was neither hide nor hair of him to be seen.

  "Joe now had to bind up his leg as best he could. He bound the rags ofhis trouser leg around so that it kept out the cold pretty well. Thisexcitement kept him up for some time, but about twelve o'clock Joe feltthat the cold was sure to get the better of him if he did not dosomething. He thereupon undid the leather strap that he used ordinarilyto carry his gun over his back when not in use. This strap, togetherwith his belt, made a strap sufficiently long so that he was able tobind himself to the tree. He then felt easier, for he knew that atleast, even though he went to sleep, that he would run no risk offalling down as prey for the murderous pack below. He wondered if hewould be able to stand the cold night or whether when Pierre came in themorning he might not find him stark and rigid, tied to the branch of thetree.

  "He shuddered as he remembered the gruesome sight he had once noted farto the north one day. Then, on one of his fishing expeditions, he hadcome upon the body of a man hanging in a tree, evidently treed by wolvesand then frozen. He wondered if some chance passer-by in after yearswould find his skeleton in a similar way and would pass on with only a'Dieu benisse' (May God bless) as he had done, and not even give himdecent burial. He commenced to think that his present position wasdirectly due to his haste on this former occasion. He begged God toforgive him and promised to burn a hundred candles for the soul of theunknown if he ever got back to Escoumains.

  "At last human strength could hold out no longer and Joe fell asleep,asleep with the cold, that forerunner of death. Joe knew nothing untilhe awoke in the cabin with Pierre busy about him. It seems that when hedid not return Pierre had gotten uneasy. He and his mate had startedout. With pine torches they followed his trail, and when they saw thenumerous wolf tracks they feared for the worst. They followed across theice and were themselves attacked by the pack. Their guns soon put themto flight and a few minutes later they found Joe insensible up in thetree. They hurried him back to the hut and in a few days Joe was nonethe worse for his experience except for the painful wound on his legmade by the champion high jumper of the pack."

  "Are there any wolves up here now?" asked Pud, as he looked out into theforest with its dark avenues of trees.

  "Not so many," replied Mr. Anderson, "but Sandy, down at Escoumains,told me the other day that they were getting numerous again, and that abounty had once more been put on their heads."

  "Don't be dreaming of wolves and pounce on me again, as you did whendreaming of bears," laughed Bob.

  "Yes, to bed, to bed, now," cried Mr. Waterman. "I'm sure we all needthe rest, for we have had a great day."

  They all agreed with him and were soon warm and cozy in their sleepingbags, sleeping as only tired men can sleep out of doors. The fire dieddown, the greenness of the nearby branches became gray and then blackand were finally merged into the blackness of the surrounding woods, andnot a sound told that here under God's own canopy slept human beingsenjoying nature as the primeval men of old did.