SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES.
BY KIRK MUNROE.
CHAPTER XXXI.
NEL-TE QUALIFIES AS A BRANCH PILOT.
Although disappointed of their guide there was nothing for the sledge party to do but push on and trust to their own good judgment to carry them safely to the end of their journey. So as much of the moose meat as could be loaded on a sledge, or several hundred pounds in all, was prepared and frozen that evening. Both then and in the morning the dogs were given all they could eat—so much, in fact, that they were greatly disinclined to travel during most of the following day.
The latest addition to the party, after being rudely awakened from the slumber into which Jalap Coombs's singing had lulled him, called pitifully for his mother, and, refusing to be comforted, finally sobbed himself to sleep on Phil's bear-skin in front of the fire. Here he spent the night, tucked warmly in a rabbit-skin robe, nestled between Phil and Serge with all his sorrows forgotten for the time being. In the early morning he was a very sober little lad, with a grievance that was not to be banished even by the sight of his beloved "doggies," while the advances of his human friends were treated with a dignified silence. He was too hungry to refuse the food offered him by Serge; but he ate it with a strictly businesslike air, in which there was nothing of unbending nor forgiveness. To Phil's attempts at conversation he turned a deaf ear, nor would he even so much as smile when Jalap Coombs made faces at him, or got down on hands and knees and growled for his special benefit. He was evidently not to be won by any such foolishness.
He was roused to an exhibition of slight interest by the tinkling music of Musky's bells when the dogs were harnessed; and when everything being ready for a start, Phil lifted him on the foremost sledge, and tucked him into a spare sleeping-bag that was securely lashed to it, he murmured: "Mamma, Nel-te go mamma."
The loads having been redistributed to provide for the accommodation of the young passenger, this foremost sledge bore besides Nel-te only the Forty-Mile mail, the sleeping equipment of the party, and their extra fur clothing, the chynik, in which was stored the small quantity of tea still remaining, what was left of the pemmican, and an axe. As with its load it did not weigh over two hundred pounds, its team was reduced to three dogs, Musky, Luvtuk, and big Amook. Serge still drove seven dogs, and his sledge bore the entire camp equipment and stock of provisions, except the recently acquired moose meat. This was loaded on the last sledge, which was drawn by five dogs, and driven by Jalap Coombs according to his own peculiar fashion.
As soon as the sledges were in motion, and Nel-te conceived the idea that he was going home his spirits revived to such an extent that he chirruped cheerfully to the dogs, and even smiled occasionally at Phil, who strode alongside.
They crossed Fox Lake, passed up the stream that connected it with Indian Trail Lake, and finally went into camp on the edge of the forest at the head of the latter earlier than usual, because they could not see their way to the making of any further progress. Although they felt certain that there must be some stream flowing into the lake by which they could leave it, they could discover no sign of its opening. So they made camp, and leaving Jalap Coombs to care for it Phil and Serge departed in opposite directions to scan every foot of the shore in search of a place of exit.
On reaching this camping-place Nel-te looked about him inquiringly, and with evident disappointment, but he said nothing, and only gazed wistfully after the two lads when they set forth on their search. For a time he hung about the camp-fire watching Jalap Coombs, who was too busily engaged in cooking supper and preparing for the night to pay much attention to him. At length the little chap strolled over to the sledges, and engaged in a romp with the three dogs who dragged his particular conveyance. Every now and then his shrill laughter came to Jalap's ears, and assured the latter that the child was safe.
Alter a while the explorers returned, both completely discouraged and perplexed.
"I don't believe there is any inlet to this wretched lake!" cried Phil, flinging himself down on a pile of robes. "I've searched every foot of coast on my side, and am willing to swear that there isn't an opening big enough for a rabbit to squeeze through, so far as I went."
"Nor could I find a sign of one," affirmed Serge, "though perhaps in the morning—"
"Hello! Where's Nel-te?" interrupted Phil, springing to his feet and gazing about him anxiously.
"He were about here just as you boys kim in," replied Jalap Coombs, suspending operations at the fire, and gazing about him with a startled expression. "I heered him playing with the dogs not more'n a minute ago."
"Well, he isn't in sight now," said Phil, in a voice whose tone betrayed his alarm, "and if we don't find him in a hurry there's a chance of our not doing it at all, for it will be dark in fifteen minutes more."
As he spoke, Phil hastily replaced the snow-shoes that he had just laid aside. Serge did the same thing, and then they began to circle about the camp with heads bent low in search of the tiny trail. At short intervals they called aloud the name of the missing one, but only the mocking forest echoes answered them.
Suddenly Serge uttered a joyful shout. He had found the prints of small snow-shoes crossed and recrossed by those of dogs. In a moment Phil joined him, and the two followed the trail together. It led for a short distance along the border of the lake in the direction previously taken by Phil, and then making a sharp bend to the right struck directly into the forest.
When the boys reached the edge of the timber they found a low opening so overhung by bushes as to be effectually concealed from careless observation. The curtaining growth was so bent down with a weight of snow that even Nel-te must have stooped to pass under it. That he had gone that way was shown by the trail dimly visible in the growing dusk, and the lads did not hesitate to follow. Forcing a path through the bushes, which extended only a few yards back from the lake, they found themselves in an open highway, evidently the frozen surface of a stream.
"Hurrah!" shouted Phil, who was the first to gain it. "I believe this is the very creek we have been searching for. It must be, and the little chap has found it for us."
"Yes," replied Serge. "It begins to look as though Cree Jim's son had taken Cree Jim's place as guide."
Now the boys pushed forward with increased speed. At length they heard the barking of dogs, and began to shout, but received no answer. They had gone a full quarter of a mile from the lake ere they caught sight of the little fur-clad figure plodding steadily forward on what he fondly hoped to be his way toward home and the mother for whom his baby heart so longed. Musky, Luvtuk, and big Amook were his companions, and not until he was caught up in Phil's arms did the child so much as turn his head, or pay the slightest heed to those who followed his trail.
As he was borne back in triumph toward camp his lower lip quivered, and two big tears rolled down his chubby cheeks, but he did not cry nor utter a complaint; nor from that time on did he make further effort to regain his lost home. The boys had hardly begun to retrace their steps when another figure loomed out of the shadows, and came rapidly toward them. It looked huge in the dim light, and advanced with gigantic strides.
"Hello!" cried Phil, as he recognized the new-comer. "Where are you bound?"
"Bound to get lost along with the rest of the crew," replied Jalap Coombs, stoutly. "Didn't I tell ye I wouldn't put up with your gettin' lost alone ag'in?"
"That's so; but, you see, I forgot," laughed Phil. "Now that we are all found, though, let's get back to the supper you were cooking before you decided to get lost. By-the-way, Mr. Coombs, do you realize that this is the very stream for which we have been hunting? What do you think of our young pilot now?"
"Think of him!" exclaimed Jalap Coombs. "I think he's just the same as all in the piloting business. Pernicketty—knows a heap more'n he'll ever tell, and won't ever p'int out a channel till you're just about to run aground. Then he'll do it kinder careless and onconsarned, same as the kid done jest now. Oh, he's a regular branch pilot, he is, and up to all the tricks of the trade."
Bright and early the following morning, thanks to Nel-te's pilotage, the sledges were speeding up the creek on their way to Lost Lake. By nightfall they had crossed it, three other small lakes, descended an outlet of the last to Little Salmon River, and after a run of five miles down that stream found themselves once more amid the ice hummocks of the Yukon, one hundred and twenty miles above the mouth of the Pelly. Of this distance they had saved about one-third by their adventurous cut-off. The end of another week found them one hundred and fifty miles further up the Yukon and at the mouth of the Tahkeena. It had been a week of the roughest kind of travel, and its hard work was telling severely on the dogs.
As they made their last camp on the mighty river they were to leave for good on the morrow they were both glad and sorry. Glad to leave its rough ice and escape the savage difficulties that it offered in the shape of cañons and roaring rapids only a few miles above, and sorry to desert its well-mapped course for the little-known Tahkeena.
Still their dogs could not hold out for another week on the Yukon, while over the smooth going of the tributary stream they might survive the hardships of the journey to its very end; and without these faithful servants our travellers would indeed be in a sorry plight. So while they reminisced before their roaring camp-fire of the many adventures they had encountered since entering Yukon mouth, two thousand miles away, they looked hopefully forward to their journey's end, now less than as many hundred miles from that point. To the dangers of the lofty mountain-range they had yet to cross they gave but little thought, for the mountains were still one hundred miles away.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE FUR-SEAL'S TOOTH CREATES A SENSATION.
One evening late in March the smoke of a lonely camp-fire curled above a fringe of stunted spruces forming the timber line high up on the northern slope of the Alaskan coast range. Kotusk, the natives call these mountains. Far below lay the spotless sheet of Tahk Lake, from which the Tahkeena winds for one hundred miles down its rugged valley to swell the Yukon flood. From the foot of the mountains the unbroken solitude of the vast northern wilderness swept away in ice-bound silence to the polar sea. Far to the westward St. Elias and Wrangel, the great northern sentinels of the Rocky Mountain system, reared their massive heads twenty thousand feet above the Pacific. From them the mighty range of snow-clad peaks follows the coast line eastward, gathering, with icy fingers, the mist clouds ever rising from the warm ocean waters, converting them with frigid breath into the grandest glaciers of the continent, and sending them slowly grinding their resistless way back to the sea.
On one side of this stupendous barrier our sledge party from the Yukon was now halted. On the other side lay the frontier of civilization, safety, and their journey's end. Between the two points rose the mountains, calmly contemptuous of human efforts to penetrate their secrets of avalanche and glacier, icy precipice and snow-filled gorge, fierce blizzard and ice-laden whirlwind, desolation and death. It is no wonder that, face to face with such things, the little group, gathered about the last camp-fire they might see for days or perhaps forever, should be unusually quiet and thoughtful.
Still clad in their well-worn garments of fur they were engaged in characteristic occupations. Phil, looking anxious and careworn, was standing close to the fire, warming and cleaning his rifle. Serge was making a stew of the last of their moose meat, which would afterwards be frozen and taken with them into untimbered regions where camp-fires would be unknown. Jalap Coombs was thoughtfully mending a broken snow-shoe, and at the same time finding his task sadly interrupted by Nel-te, who, nestled between his knees, was trying to attract the sailorman's undivided attention.
The little chap, with his great sorrow forgotten, was now the life and pet of the party. So firmly was his place established among them that they wondered how they had ever borne the loneliness of a camp without his cheery presence, and could hardly realize that he had only recently come into their lives. Now, too, half the anxiety with which they regarded the perilous way before them was on his account.
"I'm worrying most about the dogs," said Phil, continuing a conversation begun some time before, "and I am afraid some of them will give out before we reach the summit."
"Yes," agreed Serge; "To-day's pull up from the lake has told terribly on them, and Amook's feet have been badly cut by the crust ever since he ate his boots."
"Poor old dog!" said Phil. "It was awfully careless of me to forget and leave them on him all night. I don't wonder a bit at his eating them, though, considering the short rations he's been fed on lately."
The dogs were indeed having a hard time. Worn by months of sledge-pulling over weary leagues of snow and ice, their trials only increased as the tedious journey progressed. The days were now so long that each offered a full twelve hours of sunlight, while the snow was so softened by the growing warmth that in the middle of the day it seriously clogged both snow-shoes and sledges. Then a crust would form, through which the poor dogs would break for an hour or more, until it stiffened sufficiently to bear their weight. Added to these tribulations was such a scarcity of food that half-rations had become the rule for every one, men as well as dogs, excepting Nel-te, who had not yet been allowed to suffer on that account. Of the many dogs that had been connected with the expedition at different times only nine were now left, and some of these would evidently not go much further.
As the boys talked of the condition of their trusty servants, and exchanged anxious forebodings concerning the crossing of the mountains, their attention was attracted by an exclamation from Jalap Coombs. Nel-te had been so insistent in demanding his attention that the sailorman was finally obliged to lay aside his work and lift the child to his knees saying,
"Waal, Cap'n Kid, what's the orders now, sir?"
"C'ap'n Kid" was the name he had given to the little fellow on the occasion of the latter's début as pilot; for, as he said, "Every branch pilot answers to the hail of C'ap'n, and this one being a kid becomes 'Cap'n Kid' by rights."
For answer to his question the child held out a small fur-booted foot, and intimated that the boot should be pulled off.
"Bad foot, hurt Nel-te," he said.
"So! something gone wrong with your running rigging, eh?" queried Jalap Coombs, as he pulled off the offending boot. Before he could investigate it the little chap reached forward, and, thrusting a chubby hand down to its very toe, drew forth in triumph the object that had been annoying him. As he made a motion to fling it out into the snow, Jalap Coombs, out of curiosity to see what had worried the child, caught his hand. The next moment he uttered the half-terrified exclamation that attracted the attention of Phil and Serge.
As they looked they saw him holding to the firelight between thumb and finger, and beyond reach of Nel-te, who was striving to regain it, an object so strange and yet so familiar that for a moment they regarded it in speechless amazement.
"The fur-seal's tooth!" cried Phil. "How can it be?"
"It can't be our fur-seal's tooth," objected Serge, in a tone of mingled incredulity and awe. "There must be several of them."
"I should think so myself," replied Phil, who had taken the object in question from Jalap Coombs for a closer examination, "if it were not for a private mark that I scratched on it when it was in our possession at St. Michaels. See, here it is, and so the identity of the tooth is established beyond a doubt. But how it ever got here I can't conceive. There is actually something supernatural about the whole thing. Where did you say you found it, Mr. Coombs?"
"In Cap'n Kid's boot," replied the mate, who had just restored that article to the child's foot. "But blow me for a porpus ef I kin understand how ever it got there. Last time I seen it 'twas back to Forty Mile."
"Yes," said Serge, "Judge Riley had it."
"I remember seeing him put it into a vest pocket," added Phil, "and meant to ask him for it, but forgot to do so. Now to have it appear from the boot of that child, who has never been to Forty Mile, or certainly not since we left there, is simply miraculous. It beats any trick of spiritualism or conspiring I ever heard of. The mystery of the tooth's appearing at St. Michaels after my father lost it, only a short time before at Oonalaska, was strange enough; but that was nothing to this."
"There must be magic in it," said Serge, who from early associations was inclined to be superstitious. "I don't care, though, if there is," he added, stoutly. "I believe the tooth has come to us at this time of our despondency as an omen of good fortune, and now I feel certain that we shall pull through all right. You remember, Phil, the saying that goes with it: 'He who receives it as a gift receives good luck.'"
"Who has received it as a gift this time?" inquired the Yankee lad.
"We all have, though it seems to have been especially sent to Nel-te, and you know he is the one we were most anxious about."
"That's so," assented Phil, "and from this time on Nel-te shall wear it as a charm, though I suppose it won't stay with him any longer than suits its convenience. I never had a superstition in my life, and haven't believed in such things, but I must confess that my unbelief is shaken by this affair. There isn't any possible way, that I can see, for this tooth to have got here except by magic."
"It beats the Flying Dutchman and Merrymaids," said Jalap Coombs, solemnly, as he lighted his pipe for a quieting smoke. "D'ye know, lads, I'm coming to think as how it were all on account of this 'ere curio being aboard the steamer Norsk that she stopped and picked you up in Bering Sea that night."
"Nonsense!" cried Phil. "That is impossible!"
Thus purely through ignorance this lad, who was usually so sensible and level-headed, declared with one breath his belief in an impossibility, and with the next his disbelief of a fact. All of which serves to illustrate the folly of making assertions concerning subjects about which we are ignorant. There is nothing so mysterious that it cannot be explained, and nothing more foolish than to declare a thing impossible simply because we are too ignorant to understand it.
[to be continued.]
BOB, AND BIMBER, AND THE BEAR.
Bob Torrey was cantering slowly over the mesa, returning from an errand to a neighboring cattle ranch, when he caught sight of a hawk's nest in the top of a large cedar, and determined to learn whether it contained any eggs. So he rode up to the tree and dismounted, the pony understanding by the dropped bridle-rein that he was not to stray away. His dog Bimber at once began a diligent investigation of the premises of a badger, the front door of whose burrow opened between two large roots.
Bob had just reached the nest, after some hard scrambling, and was intent upon its four brown-splotched eggs, when he heard Bimber begin barking furiously.
"Guess he's found somebody at home. Teach him to keep out of other people's houses," Bob said to himself, gleefully, but was too busy to look down. The racket continued, and seemed to go away and come back. Lowering his head below the nest to ascertain what was going on, the boy forgot those eggs instantly, for he saw a grizzly bear loping over the ground in close pursuit of that fool of a dog, who was ki-yi-ing and doing his best to reach the tree, while Bob's pony, head and tail up, was making a record for speed in the opposite direction.
The bear seemed as big as an elephant, and was growling savagely. "Oh," he thought, "if I were only a hawk, like that one soaring overhead; or a horse, like that one tearing across the prairie; or even a dog, like Bimber, who—" But where was Bimber? He had disappeared. Had the bear eaten him up? No; the boy must have seen the capture if that had happened.
Then a horrible thought came and nearly chilled his bones. Could a grizzly bear climb a tree?
Suddenly the barking was heard once more, but in a queer, muffled tone, as if the dog were far away, yet no glimpse of his white coat could be caught anywhere, though Bob's eyes searched on all sides. Next the barking would ring out sharp and clear close by, and the bear would give a new roar, but nothing be visible. It was most puzzling.
"Where in the mischief is Bimber?" the prisoner kept asking himself, until he almost forgot his own peril.
Then the terrier suddenly appeared, facing his big enemy, and scolding the best he knew how. The grizzly whirled round and made a dash, but the dog was twice as agile, and in an instant was safe, in that burrow between the roots.
The bear tried to reach in, first one paw and then another, and so drag its small enemy out, but such tactics were of no avail. The dog simply retreated until Bob could scarcely hear its voice, and never once ventured within reach of those formidable claws.
"Maybe I can frighten the beast," thought Bob, as he drew his small double-barrelled pistol from his belt and fired.
The bear gave a roar as the little bullet stung his shoulder, and, dropping the shot-gun, came rushing back to the tree, where it reared up savagely, only to receive the contents of the other barrel, making a scalp wound, which brought out another terrific growl, while Bimber was able to take a nip at a hind leg and escape.
This last bit of impudence was too much. Bruin was thoroughly enraged. He tore at the mouth of the burrow as though he meant to dig it out in three minutes, but the tough roots were in the way, and before long he gave up the task, and, as if decided upon a siege, lay down squarely across the hole and began rubbing his sore head.
For an hour or more the boy sat there, when suddenly an idea occurred to him.
His powder-flask still hung around his neck. Unscrewing its cap, he poured into his left hand as much gunpowder as it could conveniently hold, and replaced the cap. Reaching up to the nest, he lifted out one of the hawk's eggs, broke it gently, and let a little quantity of the sticky "white" run into the powder in his palm. This done, he mixed the two together, adding more of one or the other as needed, until he had formed a paste that suited him. This paste be shaped into a roll or cord around a ravelling from his coat lining, which served as a sort of wick, coiled it closely, and laid it on the branch beside him. This was a "spitting devil," such as he had often used to make Fourth-of-July fun with. He then made two more.
With as little noise as possible Bob crept down to the lowest limb, where he was directly over the huge mass of fur, and twisted his legs round the limb so as to leave both arms free. Holding the three "devils" in one hand, he took a match from his pocket and lighted them rapidly, then dropped the blazing things, one after another, upon the dozing beast beneath him.
If Bruin noticed them at all, he doubtless supposed some twigs had fallen upon his back; but before long their fizzing and snapping woke him up, and the next moment they began to warm him well, especially one, which had caught firmly in the ruff around his neck, and another among the long hair on his haunches. He rolled over and over, but this only ground the devils deeper into the fur, while Bimber, aroused by the rumpus, rushed out to add his clamor to the commotion. Suddenly a terrific explosion rent the air, and nearly knocked Bob off his perch with surprise. The bear, in floundering about, had sat down upon the gun, and, entangling the hammers in his hair, had discharged it; but as the barrels were bent, of course the gun had burst.
That was the finishing touch. Singed, stung, and panic-stricken by the powder on his back and the explosion in his rear, the grizzly uttered a great howl and galloped away at the top of his speed.