Dick Onslow Among the Redskins

by William Henry Giles Kingston

I thought that I was at sea, when a violent storm arose, and that a huge whale got hold of the vessel, and towed her on at a terrific rate, spouting away and roaring most furiously. Suddenly there was a crash, and I found that the whale had dragged us against a rock, and ran itself on shore. There it lay floundering away, till suddenly it gave a curious kick with its tail, and sprung back again right over our heads into deep water. I never saw a whale, or indeed any creature for that matter, give such a leap. I had very serious doubts, however, whether it was a real whale after all. As it went off skimming over the sea, it looked back with such a wicked expression in its little twinkling eye, as much as to say, “There, I’ve done for you. I hope you may like it;” at the same time snorting and blowing louder than ever, in a way most unusual, at all events for whales, which, except when in a flurry, are generally quiet, well-behaved creatures.

The boiling sea soon knocked the vessel to pieces, and the crash of the wreck made me start up to swim for my life. There really had been a crash, though not so loud as I supposed, for it had not awakened the rest of the sleepers. The noise still continued, as if some one was breaking into the hut or store, and turning over the articles piled up in it. I jumped into my clothes, for with the thermometer twenty degrees below zero, it is not pleasant to run out without some covering, and calling up my companions, seized my rifle and axe, ever ready at hand, and rushed out to ascertain what was the matter. I fully believed that the camp was attacked by red-skins, and that we were about to have a desperate affray. The door of the store was close to that of our sleeping hut, but it was closed of course at night. I opened it and sprang in with my axe, ready to strike, hoping by the suddenness of my attack to scare the Indians, and prevent them from defending themselves. The moon was shining with a splendour which she never exhibits through the denser atmosphere of merrie England, and she was just then casting her beams through the open doorway. There was a window in the hut which had been boarded up, but the boards had been torn away, and a glistening sheet of snow was seen through it. Thus there was enough light in the shed to render a lantern unnecessary. I started back; for, instead of the party of red-skins I expected to see, my eyes fell on a huge grizzly bear, who was busily rolling the casks about, in a vain attempt to get at their contents.

He was a ferocious-looking monster, gaunt and hairy, and had evidently been driven out to forage in our camp by the pangs of hunger. When he saw me he gave forth a fierce growl of defiance, and instead of decamping, as I expected he would, he made a desperate rush at me. I stepped back and lifted my axe, intending to make its sharp edge fall with all my strength on his head; but he was too quick for me, and seizing my arm, in another instant the savage brute had me fast locked in his deadly embrace. He would have killed me in an instant, I verily believe, had I not as he caught me, shoved the head of the axe into his open mouth, where it served the purpose of a gag, and considerably incommoded him. It may be supposed that I sung out pretty lustily at the same time for help. As to doing anything for myself, I found that was impossible, beyond the holding the axe with all my might in the bear’s mouth. I felt certain that the moment it got out would be my last.

“Help! help! Obed, Short! Quick, quick!—a huge grizzly bear has got me,” I shouted.

The monster seemed to comprehend the meaning of my cries; for he made off with me through the aperture by which he had entered, carrying me along as easily as if I was an infant in arms. As he made off through the window, my companions, whose responding shouts I had just before heard, made their appearance at the door. It would have been easy for them to shoot the bear, but in doing so they would very likely have hit me, so I begged that they would not make the attempt. They therefore followed the bear and me with their glittering axes in hand. If my weight did not prove much of a hindrance to him, my axe at all events did, and they were not long in overtaking us. A bear’s winter coat is almost as impervious as a suit of armour, and for some time, though they hacked away at him very lustily, their axes had but little effect. At length, Short, who had his rifle loaded in his hand, and was ever as cool as a snow-ball, which, I conceive, is cooler than a cucumber, managed to get ahead of the bearish marauder, and looking him full in the face, levelled his weapon.

“Shall I fire, Dick?” he asked. “I know that I can hit him.”

“Yes, yes; fire,” I grunted out as well as I could; for the brute, fearing that he was going to lose me, began to give me some unpleasantly strong hugs. I was afraid also that should my strength fail me he might get the axe out of his mouth, when he would soon have made mincemeat of my nose.

“I’ll hit his right eye, then,” cried Short.

“Fire,” I cried.

There was the crack of his rifle, a loud roar, and I found myself well bespattered with bear’s grease, rolling over and over in the snow, but at length Bruin turned on his back, opened his claws, and to my great delight I found myself free. On jumping out of bed I had slipped on my thick buffalo-skin coat, which fastened round the waist with a thong, and this had much preserved me, or I should have been mangled terribly. As it was, I could scarcely rise to get clear of the bear; and if my friends had not come to my assistance I could not have crawled home. Bruin was dead and fit for smoking. While Obed helped me along, the rest dragged him to the camp, where we found all the rest of the men afoot to ascertain what was the matter. I went to bed feeling very much bruised and knocked about, but by rubbing myself over plentifully with grease I was next morning tolerably limp and pliable. After breakfast we cut up the bear, but as may be supposed, he was in very bad condition, nearly all sinews and bones, though when in good condition he could not have weighed less than eight hundred pounds. We, however, managed to get some ham and a few steaks out of him, and a small supply of fat, while his skin afforded a very acceptable addition to our bed coverings. Just as the operation was concluded, Short, who had gone out, came back, saying that, a little snow having fallen in the first part of the night, he could make out the bear’s trail.