Bob Hunt in Canada

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Bob Hunt in Canada Page 5

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER V

  THE SHORT TRAIL TO ESCOUMAINS

  They were awakened the next morning by a rifle shot. The boys, as ifwith one accord, rose up on their elbows and looked around with startledglances.

  "What was that?" asked Bob.

  "A rifle shot," answered Bill.

  Their discussion was cut short by another shot, and they heard voicesdown at the lake. They hurried down to the water and they found Mr.Waterman and Pierre there, the latter with a smoking gun in his hand.

  "It's a loon," said Mr. Waterman, as they came up. "Let me have a try,"he said, turning to Pierre and reaching for the gun. Pierre handed itover and Mr. Waterman scanned the waterfront closely. In about a minute,a big bird rose to the surface about one hundred yards away and lookedaround carelessly.

  "No use. Too far away," said Pierre.

  Mr. Waterman took careful aim and blazed away, but the loon disappearedand the bullet was seen to hit the water right where the bird had beenthe previous moment. It looked too fast to be true. The stories that theboys had heard of the wonderful quickness of loons were proven to themright then and there.

  "I'll get him next time," said Mr. Waterman, as he jumped in anothershell. "That blame loon is crazy. He thinks I can't hit him."

  "He's right," said Pierre. "I go help fix breakfast," said the Indian,as he walked away.

  Sure enough, in a short time up came the loon, and swam aroundapparently defying fate. Once more Mr. Waterman took steady aim, but theresult was just the same.

  "That beats the Dutch," said Mr. Waterman. "I thought I had him thattime."

  "What!" said Mr. Anderson, as he came up. "Trying to hit that loonagain. If you get that bird you lose anyway, for you've already shot offmore lead than he's worth."

  "All right," said Mr. Waterman. "Let's have a plunge before breakfast.We'll just have time."

  They all hurried back to their tents, and were still in the water whenthey heard Jack's cheery halloo calling them to the table. They werehungry and enjoyed the fare set before them.

  "We'll have another fishing lesson to-day," said Mr. Waterman, afterthey had eaten. "I think you had better take it easy after yesterday'sstrenuousness, so we'll all start out together at ten o'clock and seewhich boy gets the most fish by twelve."

  This was agreed on, and until the hour set, the boys busied themselvesaround their tents, helped to clear up more of the beach or watched theguides as they worked on the landing. The latter was a very interestingoperation. They had three logs cut in half. It was easy to cut the endsof the logs so that they rested on a short piece on the shore and on thetop of two small pieces that were driven in at the right distance fromthe shore. The whole was kept together by wooden spikes driven intoplace through holes made by fire in the logs. When the first section wascompleted, it was as solid as possible, making a landing over two feetwide and nearly twenty feet long. The guides planned to put in anothersection of the same length, and they expected to have more trouble withit. This extra section was being put in more for swimming and divingpurposes than for any real need. Mr. Waterman made such a remark toJack, who said that it would be just the thing for him when the rest ofthe party were away on trips.

  "I'll just get out on the end of that little landing and I'll bet you Iget just about as many trout as the rest of you," said Jack.

  "I wouldn't be surprised if you would, you old wizard," said Mr.Anderson. "I think you must have some special bait, for those trout justcome to your hook like flies to honey."

  The boys paired off about ten o'clock, and when they came back shortlybefore one o'clock, it was found that Bill had had the best luck, withBob next and Pud last. Bill had twenty-six fine trout in his bag, Bobtwenty-one and Pud fifteen.

  Jack looked them over as they brought them to him.

  "Well, I guess we won't starve for another day or two anyway," he said."I'm glad to see that you can catch enough fish to supply yourselves. Afisherman is no good at all until he can do that."

  "You don't need to be much of a fisherman to do that up here," said Bob.

  "Yes, fortunately, that's so," replied Jack, as he went on with hiswork.

  Several days sped on and it became necessary to go out to Escoumains toget the letters and some more grub. Mr. Waterman made this known oneevening, stating that he thought that he would go out through an oldIndian trail that had not been used for some years.

  "This trail is much shorter than by the road, and, if we can open it up,it will be a fine thing for us."

  "Yes, and it will be a fine thing for the habitants at Escoumains," saidMr. Anderson.

  "I hadn't thought of that," said Mr. Waterman reflectively. "If we gettoo good a road in here they will be coming in themselves and bringingtheir friends."

  "You bet they will," said Jack. "We don't want that bunch in here, sokeep to the old road."

  "It would be a good thing to know this old trail. It is so muchshorter," said Mr. Waterman. "Then if we had need for speed we could getout, or Pierre's cousin could bring in any important mail to us."

  "I'll go out that way anyway, and we'll not make any real improvementsto the trail," said Mr. Waterman.

  "Do you want any one to go with you?" asked Bob.

  "I don't need any one, but I'll be glad to have you if you want to come.That stands for all of you," added Mr. Waterman, as the other boyslooked up.

  The next morning they were up very early. The three boys, Mr. Watermanand Jean were going into the village. Joe, Jack and Pierre were goingalong part of the way to bring back the canoes, for they were going toportage through two lakes on the way. As they were coming back by theroad, they would not be able to get the canoes back themselves. After ahurried breakfast they got in their canoes. Much to the surprise of theboys, Mr. Waterman led them down the lake, around the bend and then intoa cove on the same side of the lake from which they had started. Theygot out at what was evidently a very old trail. This led up verysteeply. Fast time was made, as Pierre and Mr. Waterman carried thecanoes and the others were going light. Up they went, and came to a lakethat must have been at least one hundred feet higher than their ownlake.

  "It would be easy to drain that lake into ours," said Bob, when he sawthe new stretch of water.

  "Yes," said Mr. Anderson. "The lake is just like a big reservoir on ahill. It could easily be drained into Lac Parent, but it is so high upthat no water would be left. Let's leave it as it is, for it will serveus well this morning."

  They set off across the lake with Mr. Waterman, Bob and Jean in thefirst canoe. On they went with strong strokes, so that Pierre and Mr.Anderson, with four in their canoe, had to work hard to keep them insight. The lake was not very long, and soon they were on the trailagain. This time the portage was at least a mile long, and it led down agradual slope. So far there was no trouble following the trail and theparty went ahead without a stop. Once more the canoes were launched, andthis time they paddled through two lakes connected by a small stream. Atthe far end of the second lake the canoes were beached and the partylanded. Here they separated. At first they had no trouble following thetrail, which led along a brook that evidently drained the two lakes overwhich they had just come. Straight ahead they went, with Mr. Watermanleading.

  After they had gone steadily a little over a mile, Jean called to Mr.Waterman and a halt was made. Jean jointed off into the woods and aftera consultation Mr. Waterman concluded that the young Indian was right,and they turned off. The trail soon became very hard to distinguish, buteach time that Mr. Waterman hesitated, the Indian went by him, leadingthe way without a halt. As they were passing through some thickundergrowth Mr. Waterman halted and pointed to a partridge seated on alimb on a nearby tree, only twelve or fifteen feet from the trail. Thebird, evidently trusting to its protective coloring, sat on the limbwithout moving a muscle. Mr. Waterman had just begun to explain to theboys that the bird was undoubtedly trusting to its instinct in remainingin quiet when, with a flutter of the wings, down fell the partridge fromthe tree to be grabbed
almost instantly by the Indian.

  Jean had noted the bird just as quickly as Mr. Waterman, but he hadfollowed his natural bent by swiftly dodging off the trail, cutting astout little club from a hardwood tree, rushing back to the trail andwith unerring aim knocking over the partridge with his improvisedweapon. The boys could see that Mr. Waterman was put out, but heevidently knew that the Indian would not be able to see his point ofview, so he said nothing. The Indian, with a gleam in his eye, walkedahead, having tied the bird to his belt. The boys were all sorry thatthe partridge had met such an untimely end, but they could not helpadmiring the woodcraft shown by the young Indian.

  The only other excitement they had on the way was furnished by Pud.About half way to the village they came to a little stream that wasrather deep. They looked about and at last found a big tree that hadfallen across the stream. All of the party except Pud walked across thelog without any trouble. He got about half way across when he lost hisbalance. He felt himself going, so he threw himself on the log andencircled it with his arms and legs. His weight proved too much for thebark, which had been loosened by the water, and it began to come off. Itmoved around the trunk in a body and Pud followed it. In spite of hisefforts, he gradually disappeared in the dark water. He tried in vain toget up on the log, but he could not make it and finally had to pull hisbody along in the water until he got to the other side. Pud's acrobaticperformance had brought peals of laughter from Bob and Bill. Even theIndian had a smile on his face as Pud got out of the water.

  "What are you laughing at?" asked Pud, as he got ashore, evidently soreat the joke on him.

  "Oh, nothing," said Bob. "Only you reminded me of a fat monkey on astick."

  "I'll 'fat monkey' you, letting me drown without so much as putting outyour hand," said Pud.

  "Letting you drown," said Bill. "You fat porpoise, don't you know thatyou couldn't sink if you tried?"

  "I bet he was just trying to practice walking the greasy pole so hecould show us how to do that stunt," said Bob.

  "That old tree has all the greasy poles you ever saw beaten to death,"said Pud with disgust.

  "Perhaps that was a slippery elm tree," said Bill. "What do you say,Pud? Did you taste it?"

  "No, I didn't taste it. I'll give you both a taste if you don't stopstanding there laughing like two old women," said Pud, as he dashed forthem. He was evidently up to mischief, so they ran up the trail. Pudsoon gave up the chase, and as they came out at a habitant's farmshortly afterwards, he forgot all about his troubles and regained hishabitual cheerfulness.

  Just before they started down a hill on the outskirts of Escoumains,they all stopped to empty out their shoepacks. All of them had at onetime or other gotten into some hole filled with water and all had wetfeet. They wrung out their socks and then put on their footgear again.

  "Holy smoke," said Bill, "if mother saw me do that little stunt shewould call me back home at once."

  "What's that?" asked Mr. Waterman, who had thought nothing of thematter.

  "Why, wringing out my socks and then putting them on again," said Bill."Mother would be sure that that would mean pneumonia at least."

  "Don't worry," said Mr. Anderson. "Before we get home you will probablyhave your feet quite dry again and then much wetter. A little water willnot do any one any harm when one is living out in the open air this way.Of course, in the winter time, it would be different. Then it would beserious to get one's feet so wet."

  "Why so?" asked Pud.

  "Because then, wet feet unless one can get to the fire right away,generally mean frosted or frozen feet, and that always means trouble inthe woods in the winter time."

  Down they all trooped to Escoumains. They stopped in at MadameLaBlanche's boarding house to let her know that they would be there forlunch.

  "Make us up some of those good biscuits of yours," said Mr. Waterman toher in French.

  She promised to do so and also said that her son would be ready at oneo'clock to drive them all back to the woods.

  "Are we going to drive back?" asked Bob.

  "Yes," said Mr. Anderson. "We'll take in quite a supply of grub, for wedo not expect to come out except for mail for at least a month. We'llhave to go in via the ford, as we did the first time, and you know thatthat is some sixteen miles away."

  The boys all received letters and busied themselves reading them andwriting others. They spent the morning very pleasantly and were at theboarding house in good time. They presented quite a different appearancefrom the trim young city fellows that had eaten there on their arrivalsuch a short time before. Now they were clothed for the woods, with blueshirts, mackinaws, heavy trousers and shoe packs. At a distance, onecould hardly distinguish them from the numerous woodsmen that were to beseen around the village. They brought back from the woods greatappetites, and the famous LaBlanche biscuits disappeared by theplateful. Chicken was once more the center of the meal, and it wasthoroughly enjoyed.

  "Thank Heaven," said Pud, as they got up from the table, "we don't haveto walk back. I'm so full I couldn't walk if I tried."

  "You'll do some walking," said Mr. Waterman. "We have only one pair ofhorses and a wagon. We'll all walk on the hills."

  Soon they were off, Mr. Waterman and Mr. Anderson on the front seat withthe driver, and the boys seated on the bags that were stowed behind. Thelittle Canadian horses set off at a sharp trot. The boys nodded at everyone they met as they went through the village, not forgetting even thevivacious, petite, dark-haired and dark-eyed French Canadian misses thatdid not fail to come to many of the windows or doors as the wagonrattled by. It was a fine day and they were happy as the gods. Theylaughed and talked and sang and asked innumerable questions. Their twoleaders were also full of good spirits and gave them all the informationthey had. For the first five miles the horses went along famously. Thenthe roads got poorer and the pace slackened. They soon struck a steephill and they all got out except the driver. At the top of the hill, thewagon stopped and all got on but Pud. He was slow as usual so the drivermade believe that his horses had run away and Pud ran along after themfor nearly a mile. Finally the horses were stopped and Pud at last cameup puffing, blowing and sweating. Mr. Waterman had cautioned every oneto be quite serious and not give the joke away.

  "Sacre," said the driver. "Dese horse, he not get drive enough. He runaway."

  "How's the running, Pud?" asked Bill.

  "Never you mind. Just let me in. I'm done out. I'm no runner like Bobthere," replied Pud.

  "Possibly your life was saved for when these horses ran away, we couldhardly keep on this load," said Bob, as he winked at Mr. Anderson.

  "Yes, if you're born to be hanged you'll never get killed in a runaway,Pud," said Bill solemnly.

  "What's that?" said Pud, who was having too much cleverness thrust athim to take it all in.

  Away they went, and as the way was down hill, the driver once more gavethe reins to his little horses and they started so fast that Pud nearlywent out over the back of the wagon. Bill caught him and Pud held onlike grim death as the wagon bumped and rattled along the rough road.Bill and Bob laughed until they could hardly hold on themselves, forPud's face was a study. He knew that they had put something over on himbut he could not exactly figure it out.

  In spite of the speed shown by the horses in the runaway, it was alreadyfour o'clock when they reached the ford. The driver drove right in andwhen he got to the other side he drove up such a steep part of the bankwith such a rush that he spilled out not only the three boys but alsoabout half his load. No one was hurt and the grub was soon on the wagonagain. He drove for at least half a mile until the road could befollowed no longer. The food was then dumped out on the ground, and withcheery good-by the driver was soon out of sight on the back trail.

  "Let's get busy right away," said Mr. Waterman. "We want to get to campto-night so we'll have to hustle."

  "I wonder where Pierre, Joe and Jack are," said Mr. Anderson.

  "They'll be along right away, I'll bet," said Mr. Waterman
.

  Sure enough, before the boys had been loaded for the walk to the firstlake, the three men hove in sight. It was really wonderful to see whatthey piled on each other. It is enough to tell, that when all wereloaded down, they had taken care of everything that had been brought inthe wagon.

  "When we get to the canoes, we can make this stuff more easily handled,"said Jack. "I did not think you were going to bring too much but Ibrought along some dunnage bags and tump lines."

  "That's the stuff," said Mr. Waterman.

  They moved off Indian file, and though the boys carried only half thatborne by the guides and their leaders, they had difficulty in keeping upwith the procession. They soon came to the first lake to find threecanoes there. In twenty minutes, the baggage was put into the dunnagebags and they were off across the lake. The boys were given a light bagand a canoe to carry and the men carried the rest. In this way, theysoon got to the next lake, and a short time later they were on their ownlake, making for their camp.

  "Just carry everything over to the cook tent and leave it there for thepresent," said Mr. Waterman. "Jack will put things in order to-morrow."

  This was done, and the guides at once set to work to get supper. It wasa hurried meal but it was relished by all. The night had set in by thetime the meal was cooked and they ate by the light of the fire, whichwas kept brightly going by one of the guides. Bob thought as he lookedat the lights and shades cast by the fire, the ruddy face here, thecountenance half in shadow there, the greenness of the leaves that werelighted up by the fire, the solemn avenues of the trees stretching backinto the woods, the animated movements of the guides and the whitenessof the tents as the light on them came and went, that he had never seenanything quite so close to nature, quite so picturesque.

 

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