The Perils and Adventures of Harry Skipwith by Land and Sea

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“What a pity people at home don’t know of this! A few thousand hardy fellows like us, who can stand cold and heat, would soon change the face of the country, and make comfortable houses for themselves into the bargain.”

We stopped for two days at Edmonton, a large trading port or fort of the Hudson’s Bay Company. It stands on high ground above the Saskatchewan, is formed of rough palisades, with flanking towers, sufficiently strong to resist an attack of Indians, and contains a blacksmith’s forge and carpenter’s shop, and some thirty families; while attached to it is a large body of hunters, employed in collecting furs for the Company, or in killing buffalo for food. Bound the fort, wheat, potatoes, and vegetables of all sorts, are produced in abundance; indeed, the whole of the Saskatchewan district through which we passed is capable of supporting a dense population. I can state also, once for all, that the scenery, though not grand, is highly picturesque and beautiful, with wooded slopes, green meadows, sunny uplands, lakes, streams, groves, and distant hills, yearning for an industrious population to give it life, and to fulfil the object of the beneficent Creator who formed it thus.

At Edmonton we exchanged our carts for packs and pack horses, as with those alone could we hope to pass over the Rocky Mountains, or, at all events, traverse the region on the other side of them. We did not, however, travel faster, as the delay, when we had to cross rivers, in building rafts to ferry over our goods, was greater.

There was no great probability of our having to encounter any formidable enemies during our journey. We might, however, meet with Indians who would perhaps set envious eyes on our horses, or with grizzlies, which would dispute our progress, or wish to appropriate our provisions. Of course, we should have rivers to cross, floods from melting snow to encounter, thunderstorms, or prairie fires, maybe; perhaps even avalanches and whirlwinds to battle with; or, at least, to reckon upon overturns, breakdowns, and similar incidents, to which all exploring parties are liable. Indeed, I will not attempt to describe how we had to cross and recross some of the rivers, or to follow through the prairie a track which only the practised eye of an Indian could distinguish.

We had been travelling along the banks of a wide stream, which, with the breaking up of the ice, had become too rapid to be navigable for our canoes, and had reached a small lake, on the shore of which we resolved to camp before continuing our ascent. While supper was preparing, I took my gun and strolled on by the shore of the lake, with Ready, hoping to get a shot at some wild fowl, or, if in luck, perhaps at a prong buck, a big horn, as the sheep of the mountains are called, or at a Rocky Mountain goat—all three most difficult to hunt. The scenery was magnificent—high mountain ranges rose on either hand, some directly out of the lake, with snow-capped peaks above standing out against the deep-blue sky, their images reflected in the mirror-like water. I strolled on; now glancing at the lake, now at the height nearest hand, where I fancied that I saw a fine mountain goat feeding. This was the first I had seen. It is the most wild, solitary, and unsocial of all animals, and seldom found but at the summit of the Rocky Mountains. All at once I was startled by the rustling of leaves near me, and wishing to ascertain what animal was there, I climbed to the top of the fallen trunk of a tree which lay in my path. Bending aside the branch of a tree before me, I saw—what I would rather not have seen so close at hand—a huge brown creature, a monster grizzly, busily employed in tearing open the rotten trunk of a tree for the sake of the insects therein contained. I retreated, hoping that I had not disturbed the gentleman in his entomological researches. I was mistaken, however, for as the bough sprang back to its former position, he looked up, and before I could jump down, his quick eye had discerned me.

To escape by flight was impossible. Had I attempted to run over the rough ground he would have overtaken me, and as certainly squeezed the life out of my body; so I stood still where I was, threw up my arms, and prepared to bring my rifle down to my shoulder to fire. I had heard that the action I performed had usually the effect of making a grizzly bear stop and stand up on his hind legs, or rather sit down with his fore paws up. This, to my infinite satisfaction, my friend did; but he curled his lips, showing his teeth, and opening his huge mouth in a most unpleasant manner. My safety depended on my putting a bullet into a vital part. Should I only wound him, I knew that he would be upon me in a moment. It is not surprising that I hesitated. While I did so I heard a loud rustling among the branches behind him, and from out of the brushwood two other rather smaller bears appeared, squatting down by the side of their big companion, and looking at me savagely.

Had there been only two of them I might, I thought, possibly kill one with one barrel, and one with the other; but how could I hope to dispose of three? Even should I shoot two, the survivor would certainly pursue and attack me. All this time, Ready, who had jumped upon the log, stood, like a well-trained dog, by my side. There was not a particle of fear in him. A word from me would have made him attack the bears, and proved his certain destruction. There they all three sat looking at me and grinning, and with Ready alongside I stood looking at them, thinking how I could best turn them into meat fit to be eaten. At last I determined to risk a shot, or rather two shots. I levelled my rifle. The hammer came down as I pulled the trigger, but there was no report. The cap split and missed fire. The bears growled more fiercely than ever, and I thought were about to make a rush on me. I dared not attempt to fire the second barrel; for should that go off, I should have been entirely unarmed. I therefore gently lowered my rifle till I could put on a new cap. The bears did not like the movement, and showed signs of advancing. I was afraid that Ready would have flown at them. It would have been all up with him and me had he done so. I stood stock still for a moment; so did the bears. Then I rapidly capped my rifle—fired first at the big fellow, with a steady aim, and then at one of his companions, and not stopping an instant to ascertain what effect my shots had taken, leaped down off the log, and ran off as fast as my legs would carry me, calling Ready to follow, loading my gun as I went. A loud growl told me that I was pursued, and I then felt that I had done a very foolish thing in firing, and that I should be fortunate if I escaped with life and limb. Had it not been for the tree, my escape would have been impossible.

The growls grew louder and fiercer. They were answered by a sharp bark. I turned my head. Two bears were following me—the large fellow and a smaller one. From the neck of the first the blood was trickling down. My faithful Ready, seeing my danger, was trying to draw off their attention from me. He succeeded sufficiently, at the great risk of his life, to enable me to load one barrel of my rifle. “Which of the two shall I shoot?” I asked myself. I selected the one already wounded. I fired. He stopped a second, and then came on more savagely than ever. He was close upon me—the other being only a little way behind. I must kill the big one or be destroyed. I stopped, faced him boldly—as dangers should always be faced—and fired. Not another inch did he advance, but immediately rolled over—shot through the heart. Still his companion remained unhurt. He continued to advance towards me, growling fiercely. In vain did Ready, with wonderful activity, endeavour to distract his attention. Had I attempted to fly he would have been on me in a moment. My only chance was standing still and keeping him at bay. I threw up my arms as before—made as if I would run at him—though I felt much more inclined to leap backwards—and shouted at the top of my voice, hoping to frighten him, but all to no purpose. On he came, and in another instant I should have been made into mincemeat, or into a perfect hash, at all events, when, just as the beast, having sent Ready flying on one side, was about to seize me in his terrible paws, a bullet whistled past my ear, the powder almost singeing my whiskers, and over he went, shot through the heart. I was safe, but so sensible was I of the danger I had incurred, that for a time I felt my knees trembling under me. On recovering myself I looked round to see who was my deliverer.

About a dozen yards behind me stood Swiftfoot, leaning quietly on his rifle, with true Indian calmness, as if he had been there for the last few hours, his countenance expressive of utter indifference to what had occurred. He knew the danger I might incur should my path be crossed by bear or panther, and had most considerately followed in my wake, keeping just within earshot without letting me know, and had heard my loud shouting at the grizzly. No words were spoken by either of us at the moment. A shake of the hand was all that passed; but it expressed far more than words could then have done. It took some little time to still my nerves, and with excellent tact Swiftfoot set to work to cut up the game which had thus fallen to our share, going about it as if nothing had happened out of the common, in a businesslike manner carefully selecting all that was to be carried into camp. Ready seemed to think the operation excellent fun; indeed, he was able practically to enjoy it till I was compelled to call him off from his banquet for fear that he would over-eat himself. All this time I kept eyeing the neighbouring thicket lest the third bear might come to look for his companions and catch us engaged in a manner which he might think fit to resent. Having cut up the two bears, Swiftfoot made a number of thongs out of their skins, and with these he slung as much of the bears’ flesh as he could carry over his shoulders. I followed his example, and the remainder we hung up in a tree, that we believed we could again easily find when we returned to fetch it.