CHAPTER NINE.
METEOROLOGICAL CHANGES AND CONSEQUENCES, AND A GRAND OPPORTUNITYMISIMPROVED.
It must not be supposed that the life of a backwoodsman is all pleasureand excitement. Not wishing to disappoint our readers with it, we havehitherto presented chiefly its bright phases, but truth requires that weshould now portray some of the darker aspects of that life. Forinstance, it was a very sombre aspect indeed of prairie-life when VictorRavenshaw and his party crossed a stony place where Victor's horsetripped and rolled over, causing the rider to execute a somersault whichlaid him flat upon the plain, compelling the party to encamp there forthree days until he was sufficiently recovered to resume the journey.Perhaps we should say the chase, for, although the trail had been lost,hope was strong, and the pursuers continued to advance steadily in whatthey believed to be the right direction.
The aspect of things became still more dreary when the fine weather,which was almost uninterrupted as summer advanced, gave way to a periodof wind and rain. Still, they pushed on hopefully. Michel Rollin alonewas despondent.
"It is a wild goose chase now," he remarked sulkily one day, while thewet fuel refused to kindle.
That same night Victor half awoke and growled. He seldom awoke of hisown accord. Nature had so arranged it that parents, or comrades,usually found it necessary to arouse him with much shouting andshaking--not unfrequently with kicks. But there was a more powerfulinfluence than parents, comrades, or kicks at work that night. Beingtired and sleepy, the party had carelessly made their beds in a hollow.It was fair when they lay down. Soon afterwards, a small butexceedingly heavy rain descended like dew upon their unprotected heads.It soaked their blankets and passed through. It soaked their garmentsand passed through. It reached their skins, which it could not soeasily pass through, but was stopped and warmed before being absorbed.A few uneasy turns and movements, with an occasional growl, was theresult--nothing more. But when the density of the rain increased, andthe crevices in the soil turned into active water-courses, and theirhollow became a pool, Victor became, as we have said, half-awake.Presently he awoke completely, sat up, and scratched his head. It wasthe power of a soft and gentle but persistent influence triumphantlyasserted.
"W'ass-'e-marrer?" asked Ian, without moving.
"Why," (yawning), "Lake Winnipeg is a trifle to this," said Victor.
"O-gor-o-sleep," returned Ian.
"Niagara have com to de plains!" exclaimed Rollin, rising to a sittingposture in desperation. "It have been rush 'longside of me spine fortwo hours by de cloke. Oui."
This aroused Ian, who also sat up disconsolate and yawned.
"It's uncomfortable," he remarked.
No one replied to so ridiculously obvious a truth, but each man slowlyrose and stumbled towards higher ground. To add to their discomfort thenight was intensely dark; even if wide awake they could not have seen ayard in front of them.
"Have you found a tree?" asked Victor.
"Oui--yes--to be sure," said Rollin angrily. "Anyhow von branch of atree have found _me_, an' a'most split my head."
"Where is it?--speak, Ian; I can see nothing. Is it--ah! I've found ittoo."
"Vid yoos head?" inquired Rollin, chuckling.
Victor condescended not to reply, but lay down under the partial shelterof the tree, rolled himself up in his wet blanket, and went to sleep.His companions followed suit. Yes, reader, we can vouch for the truthof this, having more than once slept damp and soundly in a wet blanket.But they did not like it, and their spirits were down about zero whenthey mounted at grey dawn and resumed the chase in a dull, dreadfuldrizzle.
After a time the aspect of the scenery changed. The rolling plainbecame more irregular and broken than heretofore, and was more studdedwith patches of woodland, which here and there almost assumed thedignity of forests.
One evening the clouds broke; glimpses of the heavenly blue appeared togladden our travellers, and ere long the sun beamed forth in all itswonted splendour. Riding out into a wide stretch of open country, theybounded away with that exuberance of feeling which is frequently theresult of sunshine after rain.
"It is like heaven upon earth," cried Victor, pulling up after a longrun.
"I wonder what heaven is like," returned Ian musingly. "It sometimesoccurs to me that we think and speak far too little of heaven, which isa strange thing, considering that we all hope to go there in thelong-run, and expect to live there for ever."
"Oh! come now, Mr Wiseman," said Victor, "I didn't mean to call forth asermon."
"Your remark, Vic, only brings out one of the curious features of thecase. If I had spoken of buffalo-hunting, or riding, or boating, oreven of the redskin's happy hunting-grounds--anything under the sun orabove it--all would have been well and in order, but directly I refer to_our own_ heaven I am sermonising!"
"Well, because it's so like the parsons," pleaded Victor.
"What then? Were not the parsons, as you style them, sent to raise ourthoughts to God and heaven by preaching Christ? I admit that _some_ ofthem don't raise our thoughts high, and a few of them help rather todrag our thoughts downward. Still, as a class, they are God's servants;and for myself I feel that I don't consider sufficiently what they haveto tell us. I don't wish to sermonise; I merely wish to ventilate myown thoughts and get light if I can. You are willing to chat with me,Vic, on all other subjects; why not on this?"
"Oh! I've no objection, Ian; none whatever, only it's--it's--I say,there seems to me to be some sort of brute moving down in the woodsthere. Hist! let's keep round by that rocky knoll, and I'll run up tosee what it is."
Victor did not mean this as a violent change of subject, although he wasnot sorry to make the change. His attention had really been attractedby some animal which he said and hoped was a bear. They soon gallopedto the foot of the knoll, which was very rugged--covered with rocks andbushes. Victor ascended on foot, while his comrades remained at thebottom holding his horse.
The sight that met his eyes thrilled him. In the distance, on a woodedeminence, sat a huge grizzly bear. The size of Victor's eyes when helooked back at his comrades was eloquently suggestive, even if he hadnot drawn back and descended the slope toward them on tiptoe and withpreternatural caution.
"A monstrous grizzly!" he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper--though the bearwas at beast half a mile off on the other side of the knoll.
The eyes of Ian surpassed those of Victor in the matter of dilation.
"Did he see you?"
"No; he was nibbling his paws when I gave him my last look."
"Now, comrades," said Ian, whose usually calm demeanour had given placeto intense, yet suppressed excitement, "it may seem selfish--though Ihope it is not--when I ask you to leave that bear entirely to me. Youknow, Vic, that your sister Elsie once expressed a wish for agrizzly-bear collar, and at the time I inwardly resolved to get her one,of my own procuring, if I could. It is a whim, you know, but, in thecircumstances, I do hope that--that--"
"Ah! it is for une dame--une affair of de heart. Bon! You shall go inan' vin," said the gallant Rollin.
"I don't know," said Victor dubiously; "it seems to me rather hard togive up my chance of the first grizzly I've ever seen. However, I'mwilling to do so on one condition--that Rollin and I go as near you asmay be without interfering. You know--excuse me, Ian--what an awful badshot you are. If you were to miss, you know--which you're sure to do--and we were not there--eh?"
"All right, you shall go with me; but have a care, no helping of meexcept in case of dire necessity."
This being agreed to, they made a wide circuit to reach a hollow. Inits shelter they galloped swiftly towards the woodland, near the marginof which the bear had been seen. Arrived at a point which they judgedto be near the animal, they dismounted, fastened up their horses, andprepared for war.
There were no encumbrances to lay aside, for they travelled in thesimplest possible costume, but Ian drew the charge of his gun, wiped thepiece carefully out w
ith a bit of rag, made sure that the touch-hole wasclear, fixed in a new flint, and loaded carefully with ball. The othersacted similarly.
"Empty de pan an' prime again ven you gits near," said Rollin.
Ian made some uncalled-for reference to eggs and the education ofRollin's grandmother, tightened his belt, felt that the hatchet andscalping-knife were handy behind him, and set off on his adventure,followed by his companions at a considerable distance.
On drawing near to the outer edge of the woods he stooped slightly, andtrod with the extreme caution of an Indian. Indeed, no red man couldhave beaten Ian at woodcraft--except, of course, in the matter ofshooting. He felt this defect keenly as he glided along, but neverfaltered for an instant. Elsie smiled at him as visibly as if she hadbeen there. His mind was made up.
At the edge of the wood he saw the rough spot where the bear had beenseen, but no bear was visible. He felt a sinking of the heart. "Itmust have heard me and run away," he thought, and hurried forward. Theactual spot where it had been seen was reached, but Bruin was not there.Disappointment rendered Ian somewhat impatient. He entered the bushesbeyond the knoll hastily. The bear had only changed its position, andwas wagging its head and nibbling its paws on the other side of thesebushes. It heard a footstep, ceased to nibble and wag, and looked upinquiringly. Suddenly Macdonald burst through the bushes and stoodbefore him.
It is an open question whether the man or the beast was the moresurprised, for the former had given up all hope by that time. But thebear was first to recover self-possession, and advanced to meet theintruder.
It is well known that the king of the western wilds is endowed with morethan average ferocity and courage. He may perhaps let you alone if youlet him alone, but if you take him by surprise he is not prone to flee.The bear in question was a magnificent specimen, with claws like thefingers of a man. Even in that moment of extreme peril Ian saw theseclaws strung together and encircling Elsie's neck.
We say that the peril was extreme, for not only was the hunter a badshot, but the hunted was a creature whose tenacity of life is so greatthat one shot, even if well placed, is not sufficient to kill itoutright.
No one knew all this better than Ian Macdonald, but Elsie smiledapproval, and Ian, being a matter-of-fact, unromantic fellow, clenchedhis teeth with a snap and went down on one knee. The bear quickened hispace and came straight at him. Ian raised his gun. Then there came agush of feeling of some sort at his heart. What if he should miss?What if the gun should miss fire? Certain death! he well knew that. Hetook deadly aim when the monster was within a few yards of him and firedat the centre of its chest. The ball took effect on the extreme pointof its nose, coursed under the skin over its forehead, and went out atthe back of its head.
Never before was a shot taken with a more demonstrative expression ofrage. To say that the bear roared would be feeble. A compoundedsteam-whistle and bassoon might give a suggestive illustration. Thepain must have been acute, for the creature fell on its knees, drove itsnose into the ground, and produced a miniature earthquake with a snort.Then it sprang up and rushed at its foe. Ian was reloading swiftly forhis life. Vain hope. Men used to breech-loaders can scarce understandthe slow operations of muzzle-loaders. He had only got the powder in,and was plucking a bullet from his pouch. Another moment and he wouldhave been down, when crack! crack! went shots on either side of him, andthe bear fell with a ball from Victor in its heart and another fromRollin in its spine.
Even thus fatally wounded it strove to reach its conquerors, andcontinued to show signs of ungovernable fury until its huge life wentout.
Poor Ian stood resting on his gun, and looking at it, the picture ofdespair.
"You hit him after all," said Victor, with a look of admiration at hisfriend, not on account of the shooting, but of his dauntless courage."And of course," he continued, "the grizzly is yours, because you drewfirst blood."
Ian did not reply at once, but shook his head gravely.
"If you and Rollin had not been here," he said, "I should have been deadby this time. No, Vic, no. Do you think I would present Elsie with acollar thus procured? The bear belongs to you and Rollin, for it seemsto me that both shots have been equally fatal. You shall divide theclaws between you, I will have none of them."
There was bitterness in poor Ian's spirit, for grizzly bears were not tobe fallen in with every day, and it might be that he would never haveanother opportunity. Even if he had, what could he do?
"I don't believe I could hit a house if it were running," he remarkedthat night at supper. "My only chance will be to wait till the bear isupon me, shove my gun into his mouth, and pull the trigger when themuzzle is well down his throat."
"That would be throttling a bear indeed," said Victor, with a laugh, ashe threw a fresh log on the fire. "What say you, Rollin?"
"It vould bu'st de gun," replied the half-breed, whose mind, just then,was steeped in tobacco smoke. "Bot," he continued, "it vould be worthvile to try. Possiblement de bu'stin' of de gun in his troat might dover vell. It vould give him con--con--vat you call him? De ting vatleetil chile have?"
"Contrariness," said Victor.
"Contradictiousness," suggested Ian; "they're both good long words,after your own heart."
"Non, non! Con--convulsions, dat is it. Anyhow it vould injure hisdigestiveness."
"Ha! ha! yes, so it would," cried Victor, tossing off a can of coldwater like a very toper. "Well, boys, I'm off to sleep, mydigestiveness being uninjured as yet. Good-night."
"What! without a pipe, Vic?"
"Come, now, don't chaff. To tell you the truth, Ian, I've been actingyour part lately. I've been preaching a sermon to myself, the text ofwhich was given to me by Herr Winklemann the night before we left thebuffalo-runners, and I've been considerably impressed by my ownpreaching. Anyhow, I mean to take my own advice--good-night, again."
Ian returned "good-night" with a smile, and, lying down beside him,gazed long and thoughtfully through the trees overhead at the twinkling,tranquil stars. Michel Rollin continued to smoke and meditate foranother hour. Then he shook the ashes out of his pipe, heaped freshlogs on the declining fire, and followed his comrades to the land ofNod.
The Red Man's Revenge: A Tale of The Red River Flood Page 10
