A Boy of the Dominion: A Tale of Canadian Immigration

by F. S. Brereton

Beaver Jack could enjoy a joke with anyone, only he enjoyed it in a manner peculiarly his own, or, one might more correctly say, in a manner characteristic of his people. His eyes were twinkling as he faced about, while his hooked nose and upturned chin seemed to have approached even nearer.

"It is well that the young men should know what is happening," he said. "They look to their elders for instruction, and in asking thus Joe shows that he is interested. It will also tell him the need there is always to watch the country he passes through. Listen: the land beyond falls very steeply. Leaving the camp, we passed to the right, so as to gain a track which was easy. To climb is hard; to descend is a different matter."

It was not all said in that fashion, for Beaver Jack's English was not of an advanced order. But a man of intelligence could understand him with ease, and, hearing what he had to say, Joe quickly realized what was about to happen. Also he remembered that the ground did rise immediately in front of their camp, and at such an angle that to climb it would have been almost impossible; but to descend would be easy.

"Easy as fallin' off a house," grunted Hank. "Jest sit down on your snowshoes and slide; sleighing won't be in it."

Speeding along now across a field of virgin snow through which an occasional tree cropped, the party were not long in gaining a belt of forest trees clinging to the hillside. Passing through these, they again emerged on to a space which was open, and over which the white winter mantle was spread, without so much as a footmark to mar its beauty. But the field seemed to end abruptly on that edge farthest from the summit of the hills, and striking out for the white line where sky and snow seemed to merge, the trio soon found themselves on the verge of a steep and smooth declivity. From it a splendid view was to be obtained, for the rays from the declining sun lit up a gorgeous landscape, swept with white from end to end, dotted here and there with darker patches, showing long shadows where the hollows lay, while patches of trees of larger and smaller extent cropped up everywhere. There was their camp, too, nestling at the foot of a clump of pines, while at its back was one huge expanse of white, unbroken, unmarked, bearing not even a shadow.

"A lake, and a big 'un, too," observed Hank. "Ef we'd looked that way this morning once we got on to the hill we might have seen it. But we was in the trees most of the time, and I expect that folds in the ground kept us elsewhere. Now fer a slide. Slip yer gun from yer shoulder and use it as a guiding stick. Yer see, it's mighty steep here, and though, ef you rolled from top to bottom, it wouldn't do no great harm—for there's drifts that would catch you—still it's nicer and better to go face forward. So put the butt in on one side and a little behind, and guide and brake with it."

That was a glorious ride down the hill. It carried Joe back to days, now so far off they seemed, when there had been a heavy fall of snow in England, and he, with friends in the little town, had rigged up a toboggan and had carried it to the hills. The speed then had been great; it was terrific here. However, there was no time for pausing; besides, the Redskin made nothing of it. This form of progress seemed to him to be much the same as any other. Without a word, with hardly a look at his comrades, he strode to the very edge, sat down on his snowshoes, and, thrusting the butt of his gun into the snow, pushed himself over the brink. He went whirling down before a mighty cloud of snowflakes kicked up by his shoes, and left behind him a track which a man standing in the valley below could have seen from a great distance. Once he swerved, and looked as if he were about to turn over; but the guiding gun held him straight, and in an extraordinary short space of time he was waiting for them at the bottom.

"Wall," grinned Hank, "you or me? Ef there was a chance of them critters coming along I'd say you."

"And I'd say you," laughed Joe. "I'd feel that I had to stay to protect you."

"Gee! Ef that don't beat the hull band," gasped Hank. "Protect me, you said! As ef I war a baby. Now, see here, lad; we'll make a race of it. You're heavier nor me, and so will have an advantage. At the same time, I'm that light I'll slide over the snow easier. We'll see who makes the quickest job of it."