Across the sub-Arctics of Canada

by J. W. Tyrrell

The following morning, though a strong breeze was blowing, we determined to make a start, for to remain where we were meant that we must soon starve to death. We were already much reduced and weakened from the effects of cold and hunger, and the condition of the weather had of late been most disheartening. Churchill, the nearest habitation of man, was still fully three hundred miles distant. We had not one bite of food. The country was covered with snow, the climate piercingly cold. No fuel was to be had, and worst of all, the weather was such, the greater part of the time, that we were unable to travel. It was difficult to be cheerful under such circumstances, but we kept up courage and pushed on.

While we were bending to our paddles, after making perhaps seven or eight miles south-westerly along the coast, a band of deer was seen upon the shore. Our course was quickly altered and a landing effected, though with some difficulty, as the tide was falling and the water rapidly receding. The men were left to keep the canoes afloat while my brother and I, with our rifles, went in pursuit of the deer, which were at this time much more difficult to hunt than earlier in the season, when they run in great herds. The country here was a vast and dreary plain, affording no cover for the hunter save that of a few scattered boulders. Concealed by some of these we crept for long distances, but finding it impossible to get within any kind of medium range, we opened fire at a distance of four or five hundred yards. At first the deer trotted about in confusion, but soon locating their enemies they fled straight away across the plains. For several hours we followed, vainly seeking for opportunity of nearer approach, but being unsuccessful, retraced our weary steps to the shore, where we arrived faint and exhausted. We found the men had been unable to keep the canoes afloat because of the ebbing tide. They were now high and dry, and the water of the Bay barely visible in the distance—such was the extremely low and flat character of the coast.

BLACKFOOT BOY.

CHAPTER XIV.
POLAR BEARS.

As it was impossible to launch until the return of the tide, Pierre and Louis were given our rifles and sent off to try their fortunes. As they departed and left us lying in the shelter of a rock we sincerely wished them success. We had done our utmost and had failed; if they also should fail it was too apparent what must soon be the result. Two of the other men were sent off with shot-guns; then anxious hours of waiting followed. No shots were heard, but towards evening Pierre and Louis, and afterwards the other men, could be seen returning in the distance. None of them appeared to be bringing any game, as we had hoped they might, and at the sight I confess my heart grew sick. As they came nearer, however, Louis, holding up something in his hand, exclaimed, “I got him.” It was the claw of a polar bear, and we soon learned with joy that, sure enough, he had killed a bear, which he had unexpectedly come upon at the edge of a lake while following the deer.

The encounter had taken place about six miles inland, and Louis was alone at the time, his brother having gone off on a diverging track. The meeting was a mutual surprise, for the bear, which was lying on the snow near the ice, being very white himself, was unobserved until the hunter’s approaching footsteps aroused him. There was then a distance of not more than fifty yards between them, and no time for consideration.

The bear, springing to his feet, made straight for Louis, who met his charge with a slug and brought him to his knees. He was up in an instant, though, and followed the Indian, who had taken to the ice, thinking that in a conflict he would there have the advantage. But in this he found he was mistaken. The bear was quickly overtaking him, being at home on the ice, so he turned and with a second shot again knocked the animal down.

As Louis made for the shore the bear regained his feet, and with blood streaming from his wounds, and a roar of fury, made one more desperate charge. He was now within a few feet of Louis. The intrepid hunter, realizing his situation as critical, turned quickly and by a well-aimed shot laid his savage pursuer dead at his feet.