Boy With the U. S. Survey

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER XVII

  CLAWED BY AN ANGRY BEAR

  The first day of June saw the party safely in Fort Hamlin, having landedfrom the mail boat. The captain had shown a very great eagerness to berid of them, as their presence reminded him of an incident in his tripwhich he preferred to forget.

  "I am glad to have met you, sir," said the little officer to Rivers, asthe geological party went over the side to their two canoes, "and tohave been able to assist you thus far. But, sir, I trust the next timeyou have occasion to board a United States vessel, sir, you will notdeem it necessary to adopt such summary proceedings."

  "I am sorry, Captain," said Rivers, "but there really did not seem to beany other way of stopping you, and it was necessary."

  The little skipper waved his hand.

  "The incident is closed, sir," he said, "and I wish you good luck onyour trip to the Arctic Ocean. I am only sorry that my duty will notpermit me to take you at least part of the way to Dall City, but, sir, Iam due in Fort Yukon on the sixth of the month."

  An appropriate answering expression of good wishes having been made byRivers, the little steamer started off and in a few minutes was onlyvisible as a cloud of smoke around a bend in the river. A busy day wasspent at Fort Hamlin, making the last preparations for the next lap ofthe journey, namely to Bettles, at the junction of the John and KoyukukRivers, a long and by no means easy trip.

  But the days were growing long, indeed the nights were excessivelyshort, and as everything was ready for the trip by a little after threeo'clock, Rivers gave the word to start, and a few hours' paddlingbrought the voyagers to the Dall River, where it plunged its muddywaters into the north fork of the Yukon. There, immediately across froman Indian village, the party made its first camp on the third stage ofthe journey.

  The Dall River was full to overflowing, as the spring floods had not allcome down, and, so far as the boy could see, it hardly looked like ariver at all, but a large flat marsh, with a sluggish current. Over thisthe boats made good time, sometimes following a blind channel onlymarked by the trees sticking up out of the water, and sometimes making ashort cut over the submerged land. Several times, in the doing of this,the canoes grounded, but the bottom was of mud and no harm was done, themen jumping into the icy water to pull them clear.

  Higher up the stream, however, the ground rose a little and these shortcuts no longer became possible, so that the tortuous channel had to befollowed, and as the valley of the Dall is extremely wide and the streamwinds from side to side, a long day's traveling did not cause so greatan advance. Twenty miles of this irregular going was rarely more thanten or twelve miles of progress, and the eighty-five miles between themouth of the river and Coal Creek consumed an entire week. Here Riverscalled a halt, as he desired to examine the lignite or soft coal of theregion.

  Taking Roger with him, the geologist ascended Coal Creek for a littleover a mile above its confluence with the Dall, and there they found alarge outcrop of lignite, of which one half the thickness of the seamshowed coal of a firm, bright quality.

  "I should think," said Roger, "that this ought to be more valuable thana gold mine, for Alaska would be all right to live in during thewinter, if coal was cheap and easily obtained."

  "It would make an immense difference," his chief rejoined, "for coalwill go further to build up the greatness of a country than any otherfactor. That was largely the cause of England's rise, and the UnitedStates would never be what they are to-day if it were not for theanthracite and bituminous beds of Pennsylvania. If we could lay bare abig anthracite field, Doughty, it would be better for Alaska than allthe gold that's ever been struck, though the soft coking coals, used insteel-making, etc., also are extremely valuable."

  "Perhaps we may," suggested the boy, his eyes alight with the thought ofa possible discovery.

  "I think not," was the conservative reply. "This is the onlycoal-bearing horizon, and though it does crop up all over the country itis a soft coal strata. You see anthracite is a coal much older andsubjected to much greater pressure, so it does not usually occur in thesame strata with soft coal."

  Returning to camp in time to complete the remaining five miles assignedfor that day's trip, Rivers told the boy that they would spend thenight in Dall City. When a couple of hours later the canoes stopped infront of three or four abandoned prospectors' cabins, the boy wascorrespondingly disappointed.

  "Is this Dall City?" he said aloud in disgust.

  "Sure, this is Dall City," said Magee. "The Mayor would have come out topresent us with the freedom of the city on a silk cushion, but as hecouldn't get a quorum of the aldermanic council, he decided to go awayand let us take all the freedom we can lay our hands on. On to freedom!"and the jokester jumped out of the canoe to aid in running her up on thebank.

  Above Dall City the river becomes absolutely impassable, and there wasno thought of trying it, but Rivers knew that there was a long and heavyportage from Dall City, although it was over a well-made and often-usedtrail. But the pass was immensely steep, the mosquitoes wereincomparably bad, Roger's feet were tender, and that two days' portagenearly crumpled him up.

  At the end of the first day he felt pretty well exhausted, but he hadnot shown a sign of letting up throughout the work. He hoped to betoughened up by next morning, but when daylight came his muscles were sosore and tender that he could not bear to touch them with his finger.None the less, he gritted his teeth and settled down to his work,remembering from past athletic experience that in an hour or so he wouldlimber up.

  The noon day stop was what nearly finished the boy. The moment he satdown to rest before dinner, he felt as though he could never get up, andeven the food seemed unable to revive his flagging energies. When thestart was called, however, he caught a glance that Rivers cast first onhim and then to Gersup, the topographer. That was the stimulant heneeded, his pride was touched, and he leaped to his feet although hefelt as though it were the last effort he would ever make.

  But he was fortunate in having a considerate crowd, and though all couldsee that the lad was nearly beaten out, they admired his pluck and gritin saying nothing about it, and would not dishearten him by letting himsee that they realized how near he was to giving up. On the trail,however, his pack on his back, and nothing to do but walk, followingBulson, who was immediately in front of him, his will-power showedstronger than his legs and back, and though he felt numb and without thepower of thought, he still went on. For the first time he realized howbrutalizing exhausting physical labor can be. On and on until a shoutfrom the cook, who had been left at the further end of the portage thenight before, told Roger that the carry was over and supper ready. Asthey reached the spot and Bulson turned to help the boy unstrap hispack, he said briefly:

  "Bully good work, Doughty; that was a long, hard carry."

  "But I had nothing like your load," answered the boy, remembering thathis companion had toted at least forty pounds more in his pack.

  "You're not quite so old yet," answered the other, then with a smile,"maybe I'm a little stronger than you are, too."

  Supper was very welcome and the boiling hot tea seemed to put new lifeinto the boy, but a proposal made by the topographer for a hunting tripfell on deaf ears.

  "If you don't mind, Mr. Gersup," he said, "I think I'd rather not. Nowthat the portage is over, I don't mind confessing that I'm a littletired, and I think a good night's sleep will seem a whole lot betterthan any kind of shooting you can think of. I want to be ready for workto-morrow, and any way, I wouldn't walk half a mile to-night to shootwild elephant."

  "You're wise," answered the older man. "I wouldn't have taken you anyway, but I wanted to see if you'd have the nerve to say, 'No.' I reckonfor your size and age, son, you're about as good an article as I've everseen on a first trip."

  "You've been over this ground before, then?" asked the boy, lying downand resting his head on his elbow.

  "Right over this trail. I made a reconnoissance once from Fort Yukon toKotzebue Sound, and it's because
I know the ground so well that we'remaking such good time now. That portage often takes three days."

  "What a wonder Bulson is on the trail," said Roger, trying to stifle ayawn, "he must have had a hundred and thirty pounds in his pack to-day."

  "Well, he's as strong as a grizzly," replied the older man, "and he justeats up the trail. You're stronger in a canoe. By the way, there aresome rapids on the Kanuti River, down which we start to-morrow, and Isuppose you'll have a chance to shine there. But it's nothing like thatfearful mess on the Cantwell."

  "It's a pretty wild country up here, just the same," suggested the boy,"and, speaking of hunting, there must be lots of big game in theseforests."

  "Plenty of it. It's not more than ten miles from where we are now that Icame across the only man I ever met who had been thoroughly clawed by abear and yet lived to tell the tale."

  "The story!" demanded Roger peremptorily.

  "It wasn't so much of a yarn. I got it from the half-breed guide. It wasquite early in the season," he began, leaning back against the trunk ofa tree, "and we had just made camp, a little further on than we are now,because the water in the Kanuti River was not as high as it is thisseason, when we heard a shot fired, then after a regular intervalanother, and another, and so on."

  "Meaning a signal of distress?" questioned the boy.

  "Right," rejoined the older man. "Well, of course, we responded the sameway, and half an hour later there staggered into the camp a wounded manon horseback, and a half-breed holding him in the saddle. The injuredman was a sight, and as I know quite a little about surgery, I lookedafter his wounds, took a few stitches here and there, pretty much allover at that, and started them off on the trail to Fort Hamlin, a coupleof days' ride away, and thence to Rampart, a couple of hours down theYukon.

  "But before they left I learned in a vague sort of way how the wholething had come about. It appeared that the poor fellow had gone up toCaribou Mountain to shoot some big game, and had taken the half-breedalong as a guide. The luck had been bad, nothing had been shot, or evensighted, and the two of them had started for home.

  "One day, however, the same day that he met us, on turning the corner ofa rock, the half-breed being a little distance away, the hunter saw abear. Not knowing much of the bears in this part of the world, it simplyseemed to him like a smaller species, and, dropping on one knee hepumped three shots into the brute and it fell a few steps away. Then,foolishly laying his rifle down and taking out his hunting knife, hewalked up to the beast to see what his prize was like.

  "Stooping down, he saw that it was but a large well-grown cub, and hestood looking at it for a moment, when a sudden feeling of dangerflashed into his mind. A cub--then the old bears must be near by; heturned swiftly to get and reload his rifle. As he turned, he saw,charging upon him from the direction in which his rifle was lying, themother of the cub. The bear, which was coming like an express train, wasnot seventy-five yards away, and the rifle was ten.

  "Then the fellow did what seemed to me a mighty plucky thing. He knew hecould not outstrip the bear, and he was sure that if he were treed thatwould be the end of it, so instead of running from the bear he tore upthe hill to meet her face to face."

  "Did he expect to get to the rifle first?" asked Roger, full ofinterest.

  "He thought that when the bear saw him charging for her it would causeher to pause, and a few seconds' delay would enable him to get his rifleand he ran a chance of dropping her in her tracks. It was his only hope.But the brute never stopped in her rush, and when the hunter reached thegun she was only twenty feet away.

  "Bringing the rifle to his shoulder with a single motion, he pumpedthree steel-jacketed bullets into her at point-blank distance, then,throwing his rifle up, he caught it by the barrel, prepared to club thebear over the head with an aim to catch her in the eyes and blind her,so that he could make a get-away."

  "That was plucky," said the boy, "to face a mad bear with a clubbedgun."

  "Plucky enough, but foolish. He knew nothing of the strength of a bear,and even as he brought down the clubbed rifle with all his force, sherose suddenly upon her hind legs and swept away the descending gun withher paw. I found it later, bent almost double with the force of thatblow. The hunter jumped aside, but as the bear rushed past she threw outher other paw with claws outstretched, which, catching him on the neck,laid open his right arm from shoulder to wrist.

  "Dazed and incapacitated, he was an easy mark for the bear, who turning,with a growl at the pain of her wounds from the three bullets, seizedhim in her teeth. Then, apparently suffering acutely herself, shedropped him to give a vicious bite at the blood dripping from her side,where one of the bullets had entered.

  "The hunter, who had been thrown several feet when the bear dropped him,was still game. He staggered up with some vague idea of finding andusing the rifle, when, with an angry snort, she rushed at him again. Butone of the steel-coated messengers of death had found a vital part andher eyes were growing dim, so that though her claws lacerated histhigh, her jaws came together a foot from him, and in her overreachingrush she knocked him down without further injury.

  "There, then, crouched bear and man, almost within striking distance ofeach other, and yet both too weak to get up. Prudence bade the hunterlie still, but seeing that the eyes of the bear were glazing fast, hethought he might make shift to defend himself in the event of a finalrush, and he reached out his hand for his hunting knife, which hadfallen a few feet away. But the brute was still conscious of danger, andshe reared with a roar of pain and thundered down upon the man, whostruck with the knife as she fell upon him, the blade striking thesnout, the tenderest part of the whole body. She buried her teeth in hisshoulder, but relaxed the pressure almost instantly from her own painand rolled over him leaving him free.

  "Once more she lurched heavily to her feet, and the man lying on theground in a frenzy of pain, closed his eyes, only hoping that the endmight come quickly. Once he opened them, and there, not three feet away,stood the bear, apparently blind from the approach of death, rocking andsawing unsteadily on her feet, and then toppled over, dying. Three orfour times, even then, she tried to rise, but fell back each time with alow growl, her bloody jaws snapping with fury scarcely a yard from thehunter's face, but the bullets had not failed to do their work, and witha last roar she fell back, dead.

  "The hunter declared, but is not sure whether he was conscious or no,that hardly had the she-bear fallen dead, than out from the woodsstepped another immense bear, almost twice the size of the female.Quietly he walked to the cub, and smelt it with a growl, next smelt thebody of the she-bear with another growl, and with his hair bristling,walked to where the hunter was lying. The man was paralyzed by fear andpain and did not move, whereon the bear, showing no hurry, shambled intothe woods again and was gone.

  "The whole affair, from the first shooting of the cub to the appearanceand disappearance of the parent bear, had not taken five minutes, andwhen the half-breed, who had heard the shooting and the growls, reachedthe place, it was all over. The hunter, dazed and scarcely conscious,was lying beside a stone with the dead cub a few feet behind him and thedead mother a few feet in front of him. Apparently the man had notmoved since the bear died, and probably was not aware of his escape,but was lying there, awaiting death in a most horrible form, notrealizing that his foe had passed beyond revenge."

  "But how did he get to you?" asked the boy.

  "The half-breed brought him, as I told you. In some unexplained way helifted him to the saddle, and had the good judgment to let him fallforward on the neck of the horse, thereby closing the wounds in the neckand shoulder, which were the worst of all. But the hunter was terriblylacerated, for the claws of a bear rip right to the bone, sinews,tendons, veins, everything being shorn clean through.

  "I doctored up his wounds as well as I could, but he did not regainconsciousness all night, and I thought he would never pull through. Butjust as he had shown plenty of pluck in his fight with the bear, so healso showed a good deal
of vitality in his fight with death. Though timewas very precious to us, we stayed there three days to give him achance, and then we sent him down to Rampart."

  "I should have thought that the ride would kill him," said the boy.

  "There was certainly a chance that it would," replied the topographer."But he could not have gone down the Kanuti River with us, and he couldnot stay up there alone with the half-breed. Then I thought there wasless danger of some blood poisoning or infection setting in if he wassomewhere that he could be watched by a doctor, and the journey wasworth the risk."

  "Did you ever hear of him afterwards?"

  "Oh, yes. He is recovering, though, of course, he will never be the sameman again."

  "That," mumbled Roger, his voice thick with sleep, "was a close shave,"and a moment later his heavy breathing told the topographer that hisaudience was asleep.

  "He's a plucky little customer himself," he commented, as he left thetent.