Bob Hunt in Canada

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER IV

  ACROSS THE PORTAGE

  Six o'clock the next morning found every one up and ready for a dip. Mr.Anderson, having heard of the fact that Pud was bound to have hismorning dip no matter how cold the water, thought to have some sportwith him.

  "Pud, have you seen our famous shower bath?" asked Mr. Anderson quietly.

  "No. Where is it?" said Pud.

  "It's just up this little stream. It's a little cold for me, but theytell me that you like cold water in the morning."

  "Oh, yes," said Bill, "Pud has to have his cold shower every morning,winter or summer."

  "Lead us to it," said Bob.

  Mr. Anderson then led the boys up a path which finally came out rightunder a fifteen-foot waterfall. It certainly looked like a naturalshower bath, for the water was broken in its fall by the jutting rocks.Bill put his hand into the water and pulled it back with a jerk.

  "Some cold," said he.

  Bob did the same.

  "Me for the lake. That's too cold for my blood," was Bob's remark.

  It was certainly up to Pud. He tried the water and could hardly restrainhimself from pulling back.

  "Fine, fine," said Pud, as he pushed under the down-rushing water andstood there for a minute. He came out almost breathless because of thecontraction of his muscles by the cold water.

  "Won't you indulge?" asked Mr. Anderson, turning to Bill and Bob.

  "No, thank you," said Bill. "To tell the truth, I really prefer thelake."

  "Well, I'll beat you to it," said Bob, and off they dashed down thepath. In a moment Mr. Anderson and Pud heard them splash as they plungedinto the lake.

  "That's some cold shower," said Pud.

  "I thought that you would like it," said Mr. Anderson seriously.

  Pud looked at him said nothing as they went down the path. As they cameout at the lake, Mr. Waterman said,

  "Pierre objects to our using the stream for bathing purposes, as we useit for our drinking and cooking."

  "I didn't think of that," said Mr. Anderson.

  "Neither did I until he spoke to me about it," said Mr. Waterman.

  "That's too bad," said Pud. "I thought I was going to have a real coldshower every morning."

  He said it so seriously that neither Mr. Waterman nor Mr. Anderson knewwhether he really meant it or not. To Bob later, Pud stated that theintervention of Pierre was providential for he had never been under sucha real icy shower before.

  After their swim they all sat down to breakfast and enjoyed every bit ofit. After breakfast they spent some time cleaning up the camp. They goteverything ship-shape in their tents first and then they cleared up apart of the beach. The boys enjoyed this as the experience of wieldingan axe was new to then. They also had cause for wonder at the way inwhich their two leaders used the axes. They went at things verystrenuously and seemed to be able to hit just where they wished. Bobcommented on their skill, but they both stated that they were merebeginners in comparison with the guides.

  About nine o'clock Mr. Waterman called a halt, and they got ready fortheir little journey. They took along just a loaf of bread and a smalltin in which butter, salt and pepper were packed. The boys took alongtheir rods and Mr. Waterman carried a small rifle. In explanation of thelatter he said that they might have a shot at a duck or a partridge.They took two canoes. Bob went with Mr. Waterman, while Pud and Billcarried Mr. Anderson as a passenger. To their surprise, Mr. Waterman ledthe way just around the bend and then to the opposite shore. The boyshad not noticed a path, but on landing they could see a trail leadingoff along a little stream that emptied into the lake at this place. Onlanding, Mr. Waterman fixed the paddles in the right way, took up thecanoe and was off. Bob carried his gun, and he had all he could do tokeep up with his leader. Mr. Anderson also wished to make the firstportage, but Pud prevailed, and after a little trouble, they startedoff. Pud was soon puffing and blowing, for the path was steep. Mr.Anderson led the way for the other two had been lost to view even beforethe second party got started.

  "This isn't so easy as it looks," said Pud to Bill.

  "If you're getting tired, I'll take it," answered Bill.

  "Not on your life. I've got to learn the knack of this portaging, for Imean to do a lot of it this summer, and I might just as well get used toit now as any time," said Pud, between his puffs.

  "Let the weight rest on forearms, head and shoulders and you won't mindit," said Mr. Anderson. "As you say, there's a knack to it. Also, ittakes muscles that we don't use right along, and for that reason it'srather tiring at first."

  By this time they had topped the little divide between the two lakes andthey began to descend. Pud began to have his troubles, for like allnovices, he carried the canoe poorly. He came near to falling severaltimes, and it was with a sigh of relief that he came out on the shore ofa small lake. Bob and Mr. Waterman were in their canoe off the shore,evidently waiting for them.

  "How's the portaging?" yelled Bob, as soon as Pud came in sight.

  "Fine," said Pud. "But I have a crease here in the back of my neck thatwill be sore for a week."

  They were soon off again, with Bob leading. The lake opened out and theyfound themselves in a stretch that gleamed a good mile ahead of them.All at once Bob slowed down and Mr. Anderson called on the boys to stoppaddling.

  "He sees something," said Mr. Anderson.

  All eyes were on Mr. Waterman as he got his gun ready. Over to the leftthe boys saw three ducks swimming, and they knew that this was thereason for their stop. "Bang!" went the gun, and one of the duckstoppled over, but the other two disappeared as if by magic.

  "Pick up the bird," yelled Mr. Waterman to Mr. Anderson.

  "All right," replied the latter.

  Mr. Waterman looked around carefully, and a minute later the two ducksarose to the surface some distance farther on. Bob and he took up theirpaddles and tried to get within a reasonable distance again. They hadscared the birds so that they kept swimming away, keeping out ofdistance. At last Mr. Waterman laid down his paddle and got his rifleagain. This time he missed, for it must be remembered that he wasshooting with a rifle and not with a shotgun. It was only after threemore trials that he bagged his second duck and it took a good hourlonger to get the other one. For some reason the birds did not want toleave the lake and they were all three finally in Mr. Anderson's canoe.

  "That will make another fine pot-pie," said Bill.

  "We haven't any pot to make it in," said Pud.

  "We'll have it back at camp," said Mr. Anderson. "These ducks, with somedumplings and flour gravy, will be some dish."

  They made for the far end of the lake and then got out. By this time itwas nearly twelve o'clock, and they debated whether to climb themountain then or wait until they had had something to eat.

  "I tell you what to do," said Anderson. "You fellows go and climb thismountain. I'll stay here, catch a few fish, then build a fire and haveeverything ready for you when you return."

  This was considered a good plan, so the three boys and Mr. Waterman setout. There was no trail this time, but Mr. Waterman strode ahead withconfidence.

  "Have you been over here before?" asked Bob.

  "Oh, yes," replied Mr. Waterman. "I want to come here again severaltimes before the summer is over, for when we get to the top of thismountain you will see something that very few city dwellers have everseen, namely, a real primeval forest."

  "I thought that this was all primeval, way up here," said Bob.

  "No," was the reply. "The big lumber companies see to it that there isbut little first growth any place where they can get the lumber to tidewater."

  "Well, how is it that we'll see first growth up here, then?" asked Bill.

  "You'll see when we get there," replied Mr. Waterman.

  He walked on and they followed. Pud was saying nothing, but he washaving his troubles keeping up. He looked ahead at Mr. Waterman, who wasapparently sauntering along, and he wondered how he did it. Fortunatelyfor him, Mr. Waterman wa
s very observant, for he noted Pud's distressand slackened his pace or stopped to point out some great pine tree orother object worth noting.

  "Do you smell him?" suddenly said Mr. Waterman, as he stopped and lookedaround carefully.

  "Smell whom?" asked Pud, stopping in his tracks.

  "The bear," said Mr. Waterman. "Can't you smell something in the air? Ican. A bear has been here not very long ago. Ah, there are his tracks."He pointed to an old pine stump, which had been clawed recently. Theboys looked at the stump, but they saw no tracks.

  "Come here," said Mr. Waterman, as he strode over the stump. "Bears likegrubs, ants, and things of that kind, so you will often know that bearsare around by noting stumps, hollow trees, etc., when they have clawedat them."

  The boys came over. Bob looked at the stump and then down at the ground.

  "There's a track," said Bob, as he pointed at a rather big print in thesoft earth on the lower side of the stump. Sure enough, they couldplainly see the footprint of the bear.

  "Will he come after us?" inquired Pud, looking around rather anxiously,with his eyes resting finally on Mr. Waterman's rifle.

  "I'll answer your unasked question first," replied Mr. Waterman. "No,this gun would be worse than nothing for a bear. It would only woundhim, and that would only make sure of an attack. As for your realquestion, there is not one chance in a hundred that the bear will comefor us. The bears in this part of the country are well-known black bearsand they have hardly ever been known to attack men unless wounded orbacked into a corner. Judging by the fact that I smelt this bear evenbefore I noticed this stump, I would guess that we disturbed him andthat as soon as he smelt us, away he went, and he's probably a mile awayby this time."

  They then went on, and after a good climb they came out on the top ofthe mountain. Mr. Waterman first led them to the southern side. Theslope fell quite abruptly to a little lake far below.

  "Do you see the St. Lawrence?" asked Mr. Waterman.

  "No. Where?" asked Bob.

  Mr. Waterman then pointed to the south, and about fifteen miles awaythey could see the broad St. Lawrence stretching as far as the eye couldreach.

  "I thought that was a cloud," said Bill. "I see now that it is water,and away off there to the right I can see a big steamer making forQuebec."

  Mr. Waterman then pointed out several lakes, giving them names andtelling them that they would visit practically all of them before thesummer was over. He told them that Lac Parent, on which they werecamping, was hidden from view by the mountains next to the one on whichthey stood. It was a fine day and Bill thought that he could distinguishthe Andirondack Mountains far off to the south in the United States. Mr.Waterman stated that this might be true, as they had been seen from thisvicinity on very clear days. After thoroughly enjoying the view to thesouth, Mr. Waterman turned away and they went in a northeasterlydirection. In a little while they came to another side of the mountain.In a short time Mr. Waterman led them out onto a bold rocky precipicethat stood out from the mountain. They looked down into a gulch hundredsof feet below. They gazed at an immense coliseum, the sides of whichwere lined with giant trees. It was the wildest bit of scenery that theboys had ever looked on.

  "That looks just like some of the mining camps in the Rockies," saidBob. "I've seen pictures of several that look just like this."

  "That's just what struck me when I first looked down from this rock,"said Mr. Waterman. "It certainly does look as if there might be somekind of mineral down there. As yet, I have not been able to find time togo down to the bottom. Those trees interest me. They are the finest Ihave ever seen. I can't see any lake down there, but there must be someoutlet for the water."

  "Why not come over here some time and go down there and investigate?"said Bill.

  "We'll do that, and I'll bring you along. Let's go down the gulch a bitso you can get a look at some of these great tamaracks and cedars. Youwon't see them any place else."

  They followed their leader, who gave them another hour of hard climbing,though he finally brought them out, half way down the mountain.

  "Ye gods!" cried Mr. Waterman, as he looked at his watch. "It's aftertwo o'clock. Let's hurry, for Mr. Anderson will think that we are lost."

  Suiting action to the word, he plowed along, and though the boys werenot sure in what direction they were going, they soon came out on alake. Mr. Waterman gave a cry, which was answered immediately, not faroff.

  In another moment they saw Mr. Anderson putting off in a canoe. They allgot in, though it brought the gunwale of the canoe down pretty close tothe water. Paddling carefully, they soon landed, to find a fire burning,several fish all ready cleaned and ready for the fire, and bread allready buttered.

  "We forgot the frying pan," said Pud. "How are we going to cook thefish?"

  "That's easy," said Bob. "Haven't you ever cooked fish on a stick overthe fire?"

  "Never," replied Pud.

  "Well, you have something to learn, then," said Mr. Anderson. "You'llfind pointed sticks all ready, so get busy, as it's getting late and wemust be on our way."

  The boys found the sticks all ready prepared, and it was not long beforethey were all sitting around the fire, eating fish with one hand andholding another trout over the fire with the other. The two men hadoften cooked fish this way and they did theirs to a turn, but the boysmore often than not had theirs burned outside and half raw within. Buttheir exercise had given them such appetites that the fish disappearedas if by magic. They stopped when there was no more bread nor fish.

  "You boys are some feeders," said Mr. Anderson. "I thought I had morefish than we could eat."

  "I'm just getting into action," said Pud, as he licked off his fingersand looked around for more. But more there was not, so they got intotheir canoes and were off down the lake. When they came to the portageBob took the canoe and marched off into the bushes followed by Mr.Waterman carrying rod and gun. Bill insisted on carrying the canoe back,and he did very well considering that it was his first experience. Healso found the going down hill rather difficult, but he soon balancedthe canoe properly and had no more trouble. When they got to the end ofthe trail they saw Bob and Mr. Waterman just rounding the point forcamp. They set out after them, but by the time they arrived, they foundthem already stripped and in the water.

  "Come on in, the water's fine," yelled Bob.

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

  On getting out of the canoe they found that the guides had already beenbusy with the landing. Four logs had been split in two and were ready atthe chosen place. Mr. Anderson carried the ducks to the cook tent and hecame back to assure the boys that they were in for a rare treat forsupper.

  "Jack's back, and he said that he would see to this pot-pie himself."

  The boys turned at once to note the new guide. They found a rather oldman, sharp of feature and eye but not very strong-looking.

  "I thought he was a big fellow," said Bob.

  "Oh, no," replied Mr. Waterman. "Jack's not very big, but he can totequite a load over the hardest kind of portage. He's a wonder with theaxe, and he can cook like a French chef. You'll find that outto-night."

  After a fine swim and bath the boys were quite content to lie aroundtheir tents until they heard the welcome call to supper.

  "I feel as empty as a barrel," said Pud, as he walked over to the table."Gee, I'm stiff. I won't be able to get out of my blankets to-morrow."

  "That just shows how soft you are," said Bob. "I'm a little stiffmyself, but not very much. The back of my neck is sore."

  "So is mine," said Bill.

  "That's where you rest the canoe when portaging," said Mr. Anderson, whohad heard the remark. "You'll get a real callous there before the summeris over. Just for curiosity, feel Pierre's neck some time. He has beenat this all his life, and he has a regular muscle there."

  What those hungry fellows did to that pot-pie would be a shame to tell.It disappeared very quickly, while the biscuits that Jack made tastedeven better than those
that mother used to bake. Even the big dish ofprunes that topped off the meal was relished.

  "Take me to my little bed," said Pud as, with a sigh, he saw the lastprune disappear from his plate.

  "Impossible, impossible," said Bob. "I think after that meal that you'llhave to go around and not dare to cross the bridge over the trout pond.You'll break through."

  "Not an extra step," said Pud. "In fact, I've been wondering for thelast five minutes if I can get to my tent. I'm so stiff I can hardlymove." It was indeed only with difficulty that Pud could navigate, forhe had put in a hard day for a fat boy.

  "If I survive the summer," said Pud, with a twinkle in his eye, "justwatch me tear that old line to pieces this fall. This life should putthe stuff into anybody."

  "Yes," said Mr. Waterman, as he winked at Bob, "this was a rather easyday. Later we'll do some real work and cover some ground. I wanted tobreak you in easily at first."

  "Now, what do you think of that?" queried Pud of Bill, as they crossedthe trout pond to their tent. "He says this is an easy day. I wonderwhat he thinks of doing when he gets real strenuous?"

  "I guess he was joking," replied Bob. "Personally, I think that we hadjust about all the exercise to-day that we need."

  "Jack's some cook, isn't he?" queried Bill, as they sat before the firea short time later.

  "We're all agreed on that," said Bob. "I never tasted a better supperthan we had."

  "If we can get some duck and partridge now and then, we'll certainlylive high," said Pud. "I could get along with the trout alone, for Ihave never tasted anything better than that."

  "I was going over and make the guides tell me some of their experiencesto-night," said Bob. "To tell the truth, I'm tired, and I think I'll getto bed early. Anyway, I think I'd better wait a while until I get backmy French again. They talk pretty good French. It's a sort of dialect,but I can understand them pretty well. I am told that it is easier tounderstand their patois or dialect than many of the dialects in Franceitself."

  Shortly after night had fallen the boys turned in, and they were soonfast asleep, all weary after their strenuous day.