Lost in the Barrens

by Farley Mowat

  When the cabin was illuminated once more they looked at one another with broad smiles on their faces. “Well, we got them!” Jamie said happily.

  Awasin’s smile slowly faded and left him looking a little foolish. “But what do we do now?” he asked.

  The look of dismay on Jamie’s face as he realized what Awasin meant was so funny Awasin couldn’t help chuckling. They had thought only of catching the dogs—not of what would follow. The dogs were in the porch and the boys could not get out except by passing through the porch themselves.

  “This is a mess,” Jamie said ruefully. “Guess I was too smart. How are we going to get out of here without opening that door?”

  “No way,” Awasin replied. “All we can do is open the door and hope for the best. But wait—I’ll make a couple of rawhide nooses and if we’re lucky we can slip them over the dogs’ heads. If we’re lucky!”

  When the nooses were ready, Awasin stationed himself by the fire with a noose in one hand and a chunk of spruce in the other for a club. Jamie raised the wooden latch of the door, swung it open a few inches, and jumped behind it.

  The two dogs were throwing themselves about the tiny porch like mad things, and neither boy could guess what the Huskies would do when they saw the door opened.

  What happened was—silence. All movement ceased and there was not a sound while long seconds passed and the boys waited nervously. At last Jamie peered around the edge of the doorway.

  The dogs were crouched together, huddled into one big ball of fur from which four eyes gleamed fearfully. As Jamie peered at them he heard a whine—a sound about as ferocious as a fox terrier pup might make.

  “They don’t act dangerous!” Awasin said a little shakily. “Let’s leave the door open wide and see if we can make friends with them.”

  For the next hour they coaxed the dogs with pieces of cooked meat and with gentle words. At last one Husky crawled a few feet forward on its belly. Its ears were flat against its broad head, and it was fawning abjectly.

  Jamie threw it a scrap of meat, and after a moment the dog gulped it down. Then its huge and bushy tail wagged almost imperceptibly.

  That was the turning point. The rest was only a matter of time. By midnight both dogs had left the porch and crawled timidly into the cabin, where they ate themselves into repletion. Gratefully the boys closed the door—for the cabin had become as cold as an icehouse—and heaped up the fire. When they went to bed the dogs were curled up in a corner, cocking an eye occasionally at the boys in case of danger.

  During the whole of the next day neither boy made any effort to touch the dogs. After supper Awasin turned his hand to whittling some arrows from a bunch of straight willow sticks brought up from Stone Igloo Camp. Jamie squatted by the fire sewing himself a new pair of deer-hide mitts. It was warm and comfortable and quiet in the cabin.

  Engrossed in his job, Jamie forgot about the dogs. Suddenly he felt a cold nose touching the nape of his neck.

  At the same moment Awasin said quietly, “Sit still, Jamie—he’s sniffing you!”

  It was the longest minute Jamie had ever lived. At every instant he expected to feel those long white fangs. But what he felt instead was a hot, wet lick as the Husky ran its tongue over his ear. Cautiously Jamie turned his head. The big dog was standing behind him, its great tail waving slowly back and forth. It looked at him out of huge yellow eyes, then with a sigh lay down, curled up, and put its nose under its tail. It was content. It had found not only food and a home—but a master as well.

  In two days’ time the dogs were tame. But they were still nervous of sudden movements, and the boys patted them and handled them with care, avoiding any hurried actions. The bigger animal, which weighed nearly a hundred pounds, was a male, and he attached himself particularly to Jamie. The smaller dog was a female. Awasin soon made friends with her.

  Now the loss of little Otanak was made good. The presence of the dogs in the camp dispelled the loneliness of the land as nothing else could have done. The boys had a fresh interest in life, and they devoted themselves to the Huskies, who—if all went well—might be the means of delivering them from the winter Barrens.

  Jamie decided to call the male Fang, while Awasin called his dog Ayuskeemo, which is the Cree word for Eskimo.

  It was clear these were Eskimo dogs, for they were much bigger than the Huskies used inside the forests. This fact gave the boys, and Awasin in particular, some uneasy moments, for somewhere not too far away there must be an Eskimo camp. Still, it was possible the dogs had been lost and wandering for many days, and they might easily have traveled a hundred or more miles.

  Not even a vague fear of the Eskimos could really dim the pleasure that the boys took in their dogs. Fang and Ayuskeemo brought a new atmosphere into the camp, and a new happiness into the hearts of the two boys.

  CHAPTER 22

  The Great One of the Barrens

  IN A WEEK’S TIME AWASIN’S PROPHECY about owning a dog team had come true. While the boys had been taming the beasts, Awasin had spent some spare time making two sets of harness. They were of a simple type having a belly, breast and back strap, but no collar.

  One day the boys got their sled down from the cabin roof, where they had stored it to keep the wolverines from eating the rawhide lashings. When the dogs saw the sled they began to howl excitedly and to rush in circles about the boys.

  “They know a sled when they see one, anyway,” Jamie said hopefully. “Let’s see what they do when they see the harness.”

  Awasin brought the harnesses out of the cabin and attached them to the drawropes on the sled. At once the dogs scampered to the front of the sled and stood waiting until Awasin hitched them up. He put Ayuskeemo in the lead, then he tied the knots on Fang’s harness. He had hardly finished when Ayuskeemo gave a great bound and in an instant the sled was moving. The dogs tore out of the cabin clearing and went dashing down the slope with the sled careening and bouncing wildly behind them.

  When Jamie and Awasin recovered from their surprise, they raced in pursuit.

  They caught up with the runaways two miles down the valley. Sled and dogs were all in a tangle, the dogs lying happily in their traces, waiting to be released.

  Back at camp, Jamie and Awasin viewed the experiment with mixed pleasure. “We have a dog team all right,” Jamie said, “but it’s going to be a tough job to teach them to mind in English. Let’s run them down to Stone Igloo a few times for practice before we start any long treks.”

  For the next four days the dogs and the boys worked on the long haul between the camps. Awasin tied an anchor line to the sled—one that trailed away behind, and that could be caught if the dogs began to run. On the return trips the sled was so heavily laden that the dogs had no chance of running away. In four days they made seven trips, and on the last one they brought back all the remaining food cached at Stone Igloo Camp.

  The dogs worked with great energy and endurance, and they began to learn to answer the forest-country driving cries—“Chaw” and “Hew” for left and right. They also displayed amazing appetites. Working dogs, in winter, must have an enormous amount of meat or fish to keep them fit, and the boys viewed this new drain on their food supplies with some uneasiness.

  It was clear that more meat was going to be needed soon. There were the deer at the head of Hidden Valley of course, but the boys hesitated to kill any of them—partly for sentimental reasons, and partly because the herd of bucks was an insurance against hunger later on.

  For this reason, and because they were anxious to make a real trip with the dog team, they decided on a hunting expedition farther afield.

  Jamie thought that there might be other protected valleys along the line of hills to the north, where other herds of deer might have remained. So they made preparations for a search that was to last three days. On the sled they packed their food, sleeping bags, camp gear, and a big bundle of firewood.

  It was a clear winter morning with a little pale sunlight falling on the snow w
hen they set out. Dressed in their fur clothes, they looked like Eskimos. Jamie carried the rifle, while Awasin had the bow slung over his shoulder, and in a little skin quiver he had five arrows, two tipped with copper points and three simply of fire-hardened wood.

  The dogs pulled at full speed, so that the boys had to trot in order to keep up. The air was so cold it hurt when it was sucked too suddenly into the lungs. Crystals of hoarfrost soon began to form about the edges of their parka hoods. Every now and then Jamie had to rub his nose and cheeks with an ungloved hand to prevent them from freezing.

  Cold though it was, it became a beautiful day. The ice on the little lakes cracked and boomed in the grip of the frost. There was not a breath of wind, and sound carried for many miles. The boys could clearly hear the hungry cry of a raven, so high in the sky it was invisible.

  Reaching the River of the Frozen Lake, the boys turned north, into new country. For about two hours they followed the river ice. The western hills began to draw in toward the river so that the valley became narrower. The snow underfoot was as hard as pavement and there were no tracks of living things to be seen anywhere.

  About noon they stopped for lunch, and while Awasin got a tiny fire going Jamie climbed a slope to see what the country ahead looked like.

  It was a breathtaking sight, and lonely beyond belief. As far as the eye could see there was a rolling expanse that looked like a frozen ocean. The hard snow glittered blindingly and not a tree or a stone ridge broke through the white blanket. The atmosphere seemed unreal, as if it belonged to another, older world than ours.

  The sight impressed Jamie in a peculiar way. When he climbed down to join Awasin at the fire he tried to express what he felt.

  “Down south,” he said, “it’s as if the world has a roof and walls. But out here it’s as if somebody has knocked down all the walls and lifted off the roof. I never knew before how big the world could be!”

  “Big—and empty,” Awasin replied. “We haven’t heard or seen a single thing except a raven since we started. Let’s get away from the river and have a look under the hills.”

  They ate a hurried lunch, repacked the sled, and turned westward to where the rocky hills thrust their snow-free slopes up from the plains. For half an hour they traveled uneventfully, then Ayuskeemo lifted her head and howled. Fang caught her excitement and both dogs threw themselves into the harness and pulled forward as hard as they could.

  “They smell something!” Awasin cried warningly. “Maybe deer!”

  Running to keep up, the boys kept a keen watch ahead. The hills grew closer and they could see a small blind valley in the face of the gray cliffs. Awasin suddenly spurted ahead, caught the dogs and stopped them.

  “Something moving in that gap ahead,” he called softly to Jamie. “Better get the rifle ready. One of us will have to stay here and hold the dogs while the other does the hunting.”

  Nodding, Jamie levered a shell into the chamber of the rifle, and bending low, began to run ahead. He took shelter behind a low ridge and followed it for a hundred yards before cautiously raising his head above the crest.

  He caught a momentary glimpse of a brown shape passing behind some immense boulders. Ducking down again, Jamie ran on to a gap in the ridge. He slid through it and turned south. He did not know what it was he had seen. Already he had learned how easily the eye is deceived by distances in the winter plains. The shape might have been a hare close up, or a caribou a long way off, but Jamie took no chances and he kept under cover.

  Now he was close to the hills and he had entered an area of small, steep ridges between which were confused mazes of shattered boulders. Jamie could not see either the sled or the beast he was hunting. Becoming a little confused, he paused to climb a ridge for a better view, and at that moment he heard a distant cry.

  He thought he recognized Awasin’s voice and he thought he also heard the howling of the dogs—but it was too faint to be certain.

  Turning around, he raced back the way he had come until he reached a tall rock which, with much difficulty, he managed to scale. Clinging to the top, he looked out over the plains to the east.

  There was the sled, a tiny toy upon the snow. Some distance from it was the minute figure of Awasin—running. Behind him, and not far behind, loomed a figure that sent a chill of fear through Jamie’s heart. It was a bear, though such a bear as few men have ever seen. It bulked as huge as a buffalo and it dwarfed the figure of the Indian boy who fled before it.

  Appalled by the sight, Jamie hardly noticed the two dogs, loose from the sled, closing in behind the bear. He half jumped, half slid from the rocky pinnacle, and he was running when he hit the snow. One fact kept hammering through his brain. He had the rifle—while Awasin had only the almost useless bow!

  With panting lungs and a bursting heart Jamie ran as he had never run before. Once he fell headlong and almost stunned himself. But he was up in the instant and driving on again. His tired legs worked like rusty pistons and he was so dizzy from the effort that he could hardly see.

  It seemed to him that hours passed before he staggered up the last ridge and down the other side. The sled was there, a few hundred yards in front of him. A tremendous outcry from the dogs smote his throbbing ears. Dimly Jamie saw that one of them had been hurt and was crawling weakly away from the giant bear while the other dog tried frantically to hold the monster’s attention.

  Awasin was circling just out of the bear’s reach. Jamie tried to shout, but his lungs hurt as if they were full of shattered glass. He only managed a croak, but it was enough. Awasin turned, saw him, and came dashing toward him.

  The Indian boy caught Jamie as he reeled and fell. “The gun!” Jamie muttered as he fainted. “Take the gun!”

  Great waves of blackness closed in on Jamie then, but faintly he heard the booming crash of a rifle shot, closely followed by three more; then the darkness was complete and Jamie heard no more.

  When he came to himself he was securely wrapped in two sleeping robes, lying beside a blazing fire. It was dark beyond the firelight and the northern lights were flickering overhead. His chest hurt so that he could hardly breathe. Jamie tried to roll over. Something stirred and a great red tongue flapped over his face. It was Fang, curled up on the robes beside him.

  Awasin, squatting beside the fire, saw the motion and looked up. Relief flooded his face. He grinned broadly and said, “About time you took an interest! Soup’s cooking. But first have a look at your new mattress.”

  Painfully Jamie turned his head. Under the sleeping robes was an immense expanse of coarse brown fur, as long as that on his own head. The fur covered an area as big as a tent and Jamie touched it with amazement.

  At that moment Awasin came over to him with the tea-pail full of thick meat soup. “Drink this and you’ll feel better,” Awasin said cheerfully. “It’s a wonder you didn’t kill yourself. Running like that in this temperature, you can freeze your lungs! How does your chest feel now?”

  Awasin spoke lightly, but he was worried. He knew that men have died from gulping down the frigid arctic air.

  Jamie tried to smile. “Hurts!” he said; then, “What happened?”

  Relieved to hear Jamie speak, Awasin gladly launched into the story of the fight with the bear.

  “Well,” he began, “when you were out of sight I took the dogs forward so I could see what was happening. I was ahead of the sled when the dogs began to growl. I thought they were just excited. Finally Fang howled. I turned to quiet him so that he wouldn’t scare the game you were after. There, not more than a quarter of a mile away, was the bear. He was coming upwind at a gallop. He must have smelled the meat on our sled.

  “I was too scared even to move. The bear reared up on his hind legs. The dogs were going crazy. I yelled for you as loud as I could. Then the bear snorted, dropped down on all fours, and came on at the run.

  “Harnessed the way they were the dogs could never have got away, so I cut them loose. Then I ran too. I hoped the bear would stop at t
he sled and help himself to our meat.

  “Well, he didn’t! He was right behind me and gaining. I heard the dogs set up an awful racket.

  “Then I got winded, and I looked behind. The bear was on his hind feet with the two dogs tearing into him. They’re big dogs—but alongside that bear they looked like mice worrying a fox!”

  Forgetting his sore chest in the excitement of the story, Jamie sat upright in the robes. “Then what?” he asked breathlessly.

  “The dogs had the bear stopped,” Awasin continued, “but I knew they couldn’t hold him long before they would both be killed. I ran back, but the bear never looked at me—thought I was harmless. When I got close, I opened fire with the bow. The first arrow must have gone in a foot, but that bear never even shook himself.

  “Then he caught Ayuskeemo the tag end of a blow with his paw and she shot through the air like a snowball and turned over three times when she hit. Fang went crazy when that happened. He got hold of the bear’s rear end and just hung on. I had no more arrows, and I was desperate when I heard you coming.

  “The rest was easy. I grabbed the rifle from you and began shooting.

  “He was tough, but not even he could take that much lead. He dropped down, made a charge at me, then stopped, looked sort of puzzled, and just collapsed.

  “That’s about all. If Ayuskeemo hadn’t been hurt and you sick, I’d have passed right out. But I had to look after the dog and you, so when I stopped shaking I got the fire going. Then I had to skin the bear. If we’d left him till he froze we’d never have got the hide off. I only skinned one side, because I couldn’t turn him over.”

  In the morning Jamie’s lungs felt as if they had been seared with a hot iron, but he could breathe more easily and he felt strong enough to head for home. Awasin piled snow blocks over the dead bear, then loaded Ayuskeemo on the sled (for she could not walk) and let Fang pull her.

  Slowly, so that Jamie would not need to strain his lungs, they made for home.

  By nightfall they were at the cabin, where Awasin put Jamie to bed again, then bound up Ayuskeemo’s wounds. Apart from a badly bruised back and two deep gashes on her hip, she was not seriously hurt.