The Ice Queen Part 19

"Well," exclaimed Tug, in the country speech he always used when excited, "I allow them curs are the most or'nary critters I ever see!"

"They followed us all the way from the other side of the neck," said Jim, dropping limp into a broken-legged chair, which tumbled him over backward.

"Where did you go, and what did you see?" was Katy's anxious question, choking down her laughter at the plaintive Youngster's accident.

Aleck then told them that from the highest point of the hill he could study the whole island, which was everywhere surrounded by ice, and that eastward he could see what he thought was another island several miles away; but that to the southward it was too misty for a long sight. Going on down the hill, they crossed a neck or isthmus of sand and rocks between two marshy bays, and entered some woods, which seemed to cover pretty much all the rest of the island. Pus.h.i.+ng through this, and gathering a good many dried grapes, which were worth a hungry man's attention if he had plenty of time, they reached the sh.o.r.e somewhere near the farther end of the island without finding any signs that anybody had ever been there before. On the sh.o.r.e, however, by a cove, they found a tumbled-down shanty, and a little clearing where once had been a camp. They were going on still farther, when suddenly they were attacked by the three dogs, and thought it best to retreat. The dogs followed, and they had to fight them off all the way.

"One of them was a giant of a mastiff," said Aleck, "and we were more afraid of him than of the smaller ones, which seemed to be two well-grown pups. I think these dogs must have been left here last summer by somebody. There seems to be four of them altogether--two old ones and two young ones--though we have never seen more than three at once. How they have managed to live beats me. I don't see anything for them to eat. I wish you had some bullets, Tug. We never can hurt 'em much with small shot."

[Ill.u.s.tration: ATTACKED BY THE DOGS.]

"They'll steal everything from the traps, too," Jim piped in. "By the way, Tug, have you set any yet?"

Then Tug told what he had been doing, and said he must go before it became dark and see if anything had been taken. So, wrapping himself up, he took the gun and went off, while Aleck and Jim gathered a supply of wood for the night, and Katy began to get supper. By the time this was ready, and the red glare of a threatening sunset had tinged the snow and suffused the clouds with crimson, Tug came back, bringing nothing at all. It was not a very merry party, therefore, that sat around the table that evening listening to the doleful cries of the outcast dogs, which still kept watch on the hillside.

Chapter XXV.

THE PERILS OF A MIDNIGHT SEARCH.

The next morning snow was falling, and the wind was blowing furiously.

"This ought to bring us some small birds, and maybe an owl or two,"

said Tug, as he watched the dense clouds of snow hurled along from the northern waste of ice.

"Do you think you would dare to go out to the traps, or could find them in this gale?" Aleck asked.

"I reckon so; and while I'm gone you take the gun and see if you can't find snow-birds among the hemlocks."

"What'll you do if those dogs get after you? They're perfectly savage with hunger. It don't take much wildness or long famine to turn a dog back to a wolf, and we've got to look out for these curs as if they were wild beasts."

"You're right," Tug a.s.sented. "But I hardly think they'll be out on the ice in this storm; you are more likely to meet them in the woods.

At any rate, we must have something to eat, and it's my business to tend those traps, wolves or no wolves. If I go under, why, there's one less mouth to feed."

So Tug and Aleck went away into the storm, one out upon the wide white desert, the other wading up the drifted slopes to the woods.

Katy and Jim stayed at home, sitting comfortably in the house. She was reading aloud from an old newspaper they had found lying in a corner, when there came plainly to her ears the twittering of small birds.

"Listen, Jimkin. Did you hear that?"

"Snow-birds!" the boy exclaimed. "Right on the roof, too, and nary a trap!"

"Let us go out," said Katy, eagerly. "Perhaps we could catch one or two somehow."

So they crept out, and saw that the thick hemlock growing beside the big rock was covered with small birds. Some were hiding away from the "cauld blast" in the nooks between the dense branches; some were hanging upon the little cones, swinging and clinging like acrobats; some were taking short flights through the smoke to warm their toes, or sitting on the bare rock near the top of the chimney. They were of two kinds, but all equally happy and unconcerned.

"If I only had the gun I could knock over about twenty at once," Jim whispered. "I believe I could even kill a lot with my pea-shooter."

"Could you? Well, Jimkin, I've got some strong rubber cord in my trunk, and you might make one of those horrid forked-stick things."

"That's a splendid idea, Katy. Get your rubber, and I'll cut a stick.

Hurry up!"

Ten minutes afterwards the weapon was ready. But now it occurred to Jim that he had no "peas" for his "shooter." So he and Katy both hurried down to where they knew there was a bit of beach not covered by ice. They sc.r.a.ped away the new snow, and raked up double handfuls of small pebbles.

Jim's hands grew so cold during this operation that he had to go in and warm them before he could handle his "rubber gun." But the birds still stayed in the trees, as is their custom when a heavy snow-storm is raging, and the excited young hunter waited only long enough to get the stiffest of his fingers into decent shape.

Creeping around to the rear side of the rock, he climbed slowly up until he could peer over the edge, and found himself not more than a dozen feet away from the little feathered group sitting by the chimney-top. Taking the best of aim, and pulling the rubber as far back as it would go, he let fly, and one of the largest of the birds tumbled over the edge. The boy had hard work to refrain from shouting with pride at this early success, though he wasn't sure he had killed the bird.

Chapter XXVI.

FINDING SNOW-BIRDS AND LOSING THE CAPTAIN.

Jim knew he must keep quiet, so he stood like a statue, trying to forget his stinging ears, until the flock had recovered from its surprise, when he knocked over a second bird.

It was slow and very cold work, but the boy stuck to it bravely until his fingers became so stiff that he could not manage his little weapon, and then he crept down to the stove, to dance about and wring his hands with pain as the heat of the room set them aching.

As soon as possible he went out again--missed twice and hit once. Just as he was taking aim a fourth time his foot slipped, and he tumbled backwards, followed by a small avalanche, which half buried him at the foot of the rock. When he picked himself up, every feather had disappeared.

Running round to the front, he found two dead birds and three wounded ones, whose necks were speedily wrung. Never was a boy prouder than this young sportsman, as he laid his trophies in a row and admired them.

"What a delicious broth they will make!" cried Katy, who longed to taste something really good.

"I'm hungry enough to eat 'em raw, like an Indian. Oh, Tug, look what I've shot!" Jim added, as his friend opened the door and stood shaking off the snow.

"Good for you! I've got nothin' 'cept a mighty good appet.i.te. Why, they're cross-bills and red-polls!"

"What are _they_?"

"Birds that come down in winter from away up north. This little streaked sparrow-like fellow, with the rosy breast and the red cap, is the red-poll; they say he never breeds south of Greenland. Now look at these larger ones--see how strong the bills are, and how their points cross! That's so they can twist the hard scales off the cones and get at the seeds."

"Yes," said Jim; "they were hanging upside down and every way on the cones, and I could hardly see them to take aim."

"That's 'cause their plumage is such a vague sort of red and green, so near the color of the leaves and scales on those evergreen trees. The hawks and owls can't see 'em, either, half as well as if they were bright, and that's where the little fellows have the advantage of their big enemies. Did you notice any other kinds?"

"There was one different one, a little larger than any of these, that I caught a glimpse of--it was green, just like the hemlock leaves, and kept inside out of the storm--"

"Like a sensible bird, eh? Correct! I guess he was a pine grosbeak."

"That means 'pine _big_beak' doesn't it? It ought to, for this fellow had a beak twice as thick as any bird I ever saw, except a cardinal from South Carolina that a man had in a cage last summer. Do you think they'll come back?"