Part 29 (1/2)
”Wi' that I knocked the ashes out o' my pipe, stretched myself out wi'
my feet to the fire, an' rolled my blanket round me. The critter larfed again at this as if it was a great joke, but he shut up his book, put it and the bag o' leetle birds under his head for a pillow, spread himself out over the camp like a great spider that was awk'ard in the use o' its limbs, an' went off to sleep even before I did--an' that was sharp practice, let me tell you.
”Well,” continued the trapper, clasping his great bony hands over one of his knees, and allowing the lines of humour to play on his visage, while the boys drew nearer in open-eyed expectancy, ”we slep' about three hours, an' then had a bit o' breakfast, after which we parted, for he said he knew his way back to the camp, where he left his friends; but the poor critter didn't know nothin'--'cept ornithology. He lost himself an took to wanderin' in a circle arter I left him. I came to know it 'cause I struck his trail the same arternoon, an' there could be no mistakin' it, the length o' stride bein' somethin' awful! So I followed it up.
”I hadn't gone far when I came to a place pretty much like this, as I said before, and when I was lookin' at the view--for I'm fond of a fine view, it takes a man's mind off trappin' an' victuals somehow--I heerd a most awful screech, an' then another. A moment later an' the ornithologist busted out o' the bushes with his long legs goin' like the legs of a big water-wagtail. He was too fur off to see the look of his face, but his hair was tremendous to behold. When he saw the precipice before him he gave a most horrible yell, for he knew that he couldn't escape that way from whatever was chasin' him. I couldn't well help him, for there was a wide gully between him an' me, an' it was too fur off for a fair shot. Howsever, I stood ready. Suddenly I seed the critter face right about an' down on one knee like a pair o' broken compa.s.ses; up went the shot-gun, an' at the same moment out busted a great old grizzly b'ar from the bushes. Crack! went my rifle at once, but I could see that the ball didn't hurt him much, although it hit him fair on the head. Loadin' in hot haste, I obsarved that the ornithologist sat like a post till that b'ar was within six foot of him, when he let drive both barrels of his popgun straight into its face.
Then he jumped a one side with a spurt like a gra.s.shopper, an' the b'ar tumbled heels over head and got up with an angry growl to rub its face, then it made a savage rush for'ard and fell over a low bank, jumped up again, an' went slap agin a face of rock. I seed at once that it was blind. The small shot used by the critter for his leetle birds had put out both its eyes, an' it went blunderin' about while the ornithologist kep' well out of its way. I knew he was safe, so waited to see what he'd do, an' what d'ye think he did?”
”Shoved his knife into him,” suggested Tolly Trevor, in eager anxiety.
”What! shove his knife into a healthy old b'ar with nothin' gone but his sight? No, lad, he did do nothing so mad as that, but he ran coolly up to it an' screeched in its face. Of course the b'ar went straight at the sound, helter-skelter, and the ornithologist turned an' ran to the edge o' the precipice, screechin' as he went. When he got there he pulled up an' darted a one side, but the b'ar went slap over, an' I believe I'm well within the mark when I say that that b'ar turned five complete somersaults before it got to the bottom, where it came to the ground with a whack that would have busted an elephant. I don't think we found a whole bone in its carca.s.s when the ornithologist helped me to cut it up that night in camp.”
”Well done!” exclaimed little Trevor, with enthusiasm, ”an' what came o'
the orny-what-d'ye-callum?”
”That's more than I can tell, lad. He went off wi' the b'ar's claws to show to his friends, an' I never saw him again. But look there, boys,”
continued the trapper in a suddenly lowered tone of voice, while he threw forward and c.o.c.ked his rifle, ”d'ye see our supper?”
”What? Where?” exclaimed Tolly, in a soft whisper, straining his eyes in the direction indicated.
The sharp crack of the trapper's rifle immediately followed, and a fine buck lay p.r.o.ne upon the ground.
”'Twas an easy shot,” said Drake, recharging his weapon, ”only a man needs a leetle experience before he can fire down a precipice correctly.
Come along, boys.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
Nothing further worth mentioning occurred to the hunters that day, save that little Tolly Trevor was amazed--we might almost say petrified--by the splendour and precision of the trapper's shooting, besides which he was deeply impressed with the undercurrent of what we may style grave fun, coupled with calm enthusiasm, which characterised the man, and the utter absence of self-a.s.sertion or boastfulness.
But if the remainder of the day was uneventful, the stories round the camp-fire more than compensated him and his friend Leaping Buck. The latter was intimately acquainted with the trapper, and seemed to derive more pleasure from watching the effect of his anecdotes on his new friend than in listening to them himself. Probably this was in part owing to the fact that he had heard them all before more than once.
The spot they had selected for their encampment was the summit of a projecting crag, which was crowned with a little thicket, and surrounded on three sides by sheer precipices. The neck of rock by which it was reached was free from shrubs, besides being split across by a deep chasm of several feet in width, so that it formed a natural fortress, and the marks of old encampments seemed to indicate that it had been used as a camping-place by the red man long before his white brother--too often his white foe--had appeared in that western wilderness to disturb him.
The Indians had no special name for the spot, but the roving trappers who first came to it had named it the Outlook, because from its summit a magnificent view of nearly the whole region could be obtained. The great chasm or fissure already mentioned descended sheer down, like the neighbouring precipices, to an immense depth, so that the Outlook, being a species of aerial island, was usually reached by a narrow plank which bridged the chasm. It had stood many a siege in times past, and when used as a fortress, whether by white hunters or savages, the plank bridge was withdrawn, and the place rendered--at least esteemed-- impregnable.
When Mahoghany Drake and his young friends came up to the chasm a little before sunset Leaping Buck took a short run and bounded clear over it.
”Ha! I knowed he couldn't resist the temptation,” said Mahoghany, with a quiet chuckle, ”an' it's not many boys--no, nor yet men--who could jump that. I wouldn't try it myself for a noo rifle--no, though ye was to throw in a silver-mounted powder-horn to the bargain.”
”But you _have_ jumped it?” cried the Indian boy, turning round with a gleeful face.
”Ay, lad, long ago, and then I was forced to, when runnin' for my life.
A man'll do many a deed when so sitooate that he couldn't do in cold blood. Come, come, young feller,” he added, suddenly laying his heavy hand on little Trevor's collar and arresting him, ”you wasn't thinkin'
o' tryin' it was ye?”
”Indeed I was, and I _think_ I could manage it,” said the foolishly ambitious Tolly.
”Thinkin' is not enough, boy,” returned the trapper, with a grave shake of the head. ”You should always make _sure_. Suppose you was wrong in your thinkin', now, who d'ee think would go down there to pick up the bits of 'ee an' carry them home to your mother.”