As these three animals will be my constant companions during many months, through many long leagues of ice and snow, I have here sketched their outward semblance with some care. Civilization and a steamboat appeared to agree but poorly with my new friends. Spanker, failing in making his teeth emancipate his own neck, turned all his attention towards freeing his companion, and after a deal of toil he succeeded in gnawing Pony loose. This notable instance of canine abnegation (in which supporters of the Darwinian theory will easily recognize the connecting link between the Algerine captives assisting each other to freedom, &c., &c., after the manner of the Middle Ages), resulted in the absconding of the dog Pony, who took advantage of the momentary grounding of the steamer to jump on shore and disappear into the neighbouring forest.
It was a wild, tempestuous night; the storm swept the waters of the Red River until at length the steamboat was forced to seek her moorings against the tree-lined shore. Here was a chance of recovering the lost dog. Unfortunately the boat lay on the Dakota side, and the dog was at large somewhere on the Minnesota shore, while between the stormy water heaved in inky darkness. How was the capture to be effected?
As I stood on the lower deck of the steamboat, pondering how to cross the dark river, a man paddled a small skiff close to the boat’s side. “Will you be good enough to put me across the river?” I asked.
“I’ve no darned time to lose a night like this,” he answered, “but if you want to cross jump in.” The lantern which he carried showed the skiff to be half-filled with water, but the chance was too good to be lost. I sprang in, and we shot away over the rough river. Kneeling in the bottom of the boat I held the lantern aloft, while my gruff comrade paddled hard. At last we touched the shore; clambering up the wet, slippery bank, I held the light amidst the forest; there, not twenty paces distant, stood Pony.
“Pony, poor fellow, good dog, come, Pony, cess, cess, poor old boy.” Alas! all the alluring dogisms by which we usually attract the animal were now utterly useless, and the more I cried “Here, here,” the more the wretch went there, there. Meanwhile my boating friend grew impatient; I could hear him above the storm shouting and cursing at me with great volubility: so I made my way back to the shore, gave him his lantern, and went back into the forest, while he shot out into the darkness of the river.
Every now and again I heard the brute Pony close to me in the brushwood. For some time I wandered on; suddenly a light glimmered through the wet trees: approaching the light I found it to issue from an Indian wigwam, and at my summons two or three half-clad creatures came out. There was a dog lost in the woods, would they get lights and help me to catch him? a dollar would be the reward. The dollar threw a new light upon the matter. Burning brands were instantly brought forth from the wigwam fire, but with little result; the vagabond Pony, now utterly scared out of all semblance of dog wit, sought safety in the deepest recesses of the forest, from whence he poured forth howls into the night. I returned to the river, and with the aid of my wigwam friends regained the steamboat. Half an hour later the man on watch saw a dark object swimming around the boat; it was the lost dog. Cerf-vola, tied in the rain as a lure, had continued to howl without intermission, and the vagrant Pony had evidently come to the conclusion that there were worse places on a wet autumnal night than the warm deck of the steamboat “Selkirk.”
In the earliest days of October all phases of civilization were passed with little regret; and at the Rat Creek, near the southern shore of Lake Manitoba, I bid good-bye to society. The party was a small one—a member of the Imperial Legislature, well known in Ireland, now en route to get a glimpse of the great solitudes ere winter had closed in, his servant, mine own, five horses, and two carts.
CHAPTER IV.
The Wilderness.—A Sunset-Scene.—A white Savage.—Cerf-vola the Untiring.—Doggerel for a Dog.—The Hill of the Wolverine.—The Indian Paradise.—I plan a Surprise.—Biscuits and Water.