The Wilderness Castaways Part 21

Anything'll turn on a feller when 'tis cornered."

"I thought I was a goner, and I don't understand how I ever killed it.

Do I seem to be hurt much? I feel sore all over."

"Not so bad. Scratched a bit, but 't ain't no account. You sticks your knife in his heart. Feelin' like gettin' up now?"

"I'll try."

With Dan's a.s.sistance Paul rose to his feet, but he felt very weak, and uncertain on his legs.

"I never can walk back to the boat, Dan."

"We'll not be goin' back t' th' boat this evenin'. There, keep a good holt of me, an' we'll cross th' creek an' put a fire on. You're s.h.i.+verin' with th' cold."

Dan piloted the tottering Paul to a comfortable place beside the embers of Paul's former fire, relighted the fire and presently had a cheerful blaze. Then he broke some spruce boughs for a couch, and when Paul said he was quite comfortable and feeling "bully good again, except for the sore spots," Dan spread out before him a porcupine, a big Arctic hare and five more ptarmigans.

"That's what I were gettin' on th' hunt," he announced proudly. "Now what you thinkin' o' un?"

"Dan, that's just fine. Why, we can live like kings now. I suppose that's a porcupine, isn't it? And of course it's good to eat--everything seems to be good to eat in this country."

"Yes, they's rare fine eatin'. I likes un as well as deer's meat. Now I'll have a snack an' then pack th' tent an' beddin' in here. I feels wonderful gaunt."

"Dan, you're a wonder! Here you've been tramping after game all this time, and stopping to help me, without a thing to eat since yesterday."

"If a feller gets game he's got t' keep after un when he sees un,"

commented Dan, between mouthfuls of the now cold ptarmigan Paul had cooked for him. "An' 'tis tastin' wonderful fine, now I gets un. We'll be havin' a good feed when I gets back, an' we'll find th' tent rare snug in this timber, free from th' gale. She's blowin' wonderful stiff outside."

"I'm strong enough now, I guess, to go along and help carry the things. I don't want you to do it alone, Dan. You do all the hard things," and Paul attempted to rise.

"You'll be stayin' where you is," objected Dan, forcing Paul back upon his couch. "'Tis but a light load for me. I'm used t' packin', an'

I'll not be long."

"I do feel pretty weak," admitted Paul, settling on his couch again.

When Dan returned an hour later the sun had set. He brought with him the tent, blankets, cooking utensils and stove, but declared they were not heavy. He declined Paul's a.s.sistance in pitching the tent, and working with the skill of a woodsman soon had all in readiness for the night, a fire in the stove, and three ptarmigans stewing in the kettle.

"They's a wonderful rough sea runnin'," he remarked when he finally sat down. "I'm thinkin' we'll not be gettin' out o' here for two days yet. Th' wind's s.h.i.+fted t' th' west'ard an' she's blowin' a gale, an'

she's kickin' up a sea as won't settle in a day after th' blow stops."

Dan's weather prophecy proved quite correct, and three days pa.s.sed before they were permitted by weather and sea to break camp and resume their journey. Paul's wounds were not serious, though the deep scratches he had received were painful and troublesome. However, he was able while they remained ash.o.r.e to attend to camp duties, while Dan hunted.

Under Dan's direction he roasted the four quarters of lynx and the porcupine, together with another porcupine Dan had secured, as a reserve supply of food. The porcupines were placed upon the coals and the quills and hair thoroughly singed off, after which they were sc.r.a.ped. This done, a big log fire was built. On either side and slightly in front of the fire a stake was driven, and a pole extending from stake to stake was tied in position. From the pole, and directly before the fire, the porcupines and quarters of lynx were so suspended, each at the end of a string, that they hung just high enough to clear the ground. By occasionally twirling the string upon which each was hung, every portion of the roasting meat was exposed to the heat and thoroughly cooked.

Paul found Dan's estimate of porcupine not at all overdrawn. He declared it not unlike, and even superior to, roasted young pig; and the lynx he insisted was equal to the finest veal.

Dan's hunting during this period brought them, besides the second porcupine, forty more ptarmigans and three snowshoe rabbits. Thus when they broke camp they were not only well fed but were well supplied with provisions for several days.

It was early dawn of a keen, cold morning when they turned toward the boat with the outfit on their backs. The frost crackled under foot, and when the sun broke out, as they were crossing the berry-covered ridge, it set the frost-covered earth sparkling and scintillating, transforming it into a fairy world strewn with diamonds.

From the hilltop they could see the sea stretching far away to the eastward in a silvery, s.h.i.+mmering sheen.

"Isn't it immense!" exclaimed Paul, as they sat beside their packs for a brief rest. "I've learned to love the sea, in spite of the rough way it's knocked us about, and I'll be mighty glad to be afloat again."

"'Tis wonderful fine," admitted Dan, rising to lead the way down.

A gentle swell was running, and with a good sailing breeze from the northwest they made excellent progress. To their astonishment, however, they discovered early in the afternoon a long coast line, just discernible, directly east of them.

"Now this must be a bay we're runnin' into," suggested Dan when this new coast was discovered, "and I'm thinkin' 't will be best to cross un, for if we runs t' th' head of un we'll be losin' a rare lot o'

time."

Accordingly they took an easterly course, and with sunset made a comfortable landing and cheerful camp, where driftwood in plenty was to be found for their stove. It was a cozy, snug camp, and a savory supper of hot broth and boiled birds, added to the satisfaction of having accomplished a good day's voyage to the southward, made them very jolly and happy.

When they had eaten Dan produced his harmonica and blew a few notes.

Suddenly he ceased the music and listened intently, then springing to his feet left the tent. Paul, aware that something of importance had happened, was close at his heels. Outside Dan listened again, keeping silence for several minutes. Then he asked excitedly:

"Does you hear un? Does you hear un?"

"Yes, what is it?" asked Paul, also excited. "Wolves?"

"Dogs! 'Tis husky dogs! They's huskies clost by t' th' east'ard, an'

them's their dogs howlin'! Hear un!"

They were silent again for a moment, to be certain that there was no mistake, and as the distant "How-oo, how-oo, how-oo" came up from the eastward, Paul shouted:

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" and then threw his cap in the air in an ecstasy of delight.

"They's down t' th' east'ard, an' we'll sure see un tomorrow," said Dan. "When I first hears un in th' tent, I were thinkin' 't were wolves howlin', they howls so like wolves. But 't ain't wolves, 'tis sure husky dogs."

"And tomorrow we'll meet people again, even if they are huskies, and our troubles will be ended! Oh, Dan, I'm so thankful I can hardly contain myself!"

They sat and talked about home and the hope of the morrow until late, and even when they did lie down excitement and antic.i.p.ation kept them still talking and awake until at last they fell into restless sleep.

Long before daybreak Dan arose very quietly for a look at the weather and to light the fire, but quiet as he was Paul heard him. "Is it time to get up, Dan?" he asked.

"'T will soon be time," answered Dan. "I wakes an' gets up, for we're wantin' t' be early, sure, so's t' be fair ready t' start soon's we can see."

"I can hardly wait to get away!" exclaimed Paul.

Breakfast was eaten in darkness, and the boat loaded and ready for the start before the first hint of dawn appeared in the east. In spite of their impatience Dan deemed it unwise, however, to venture upon the unknown waters until it was sufficiently light to avoid submerged reefs and treacherous bars, and for nearly an hour they were compelled to walk up and down the sh.o.r.e to keep warm, for the morning was stinging cold. At length Dan announced:

"We may's well be goin' now. 'T is fair light."

They hugged the sh.o.r.e closely, turning the boat into every cove and bight, that there might be no possibility of missing the Eskimos for whom they were looking.

"There!" said Dan at length. "There they is!"

Deep down in a cove, in a shelter of a towering ledge of rocks, stood a skin tupek of the Eskimos. Two men and some women and children, who had discovered the approaching boat even before Dan had discovered them, were watching them curiously from the beach.

The welcome was most hospitable, as the welcome of Eskimos always is, everyone shaking hands with Paul and Dan, laughing and greeting them with "Oksunae."