Part 27 (1/2)
he added.
To their quick a.s.sent he rejoined: ”You'll never want to leave. You'll stay on.”
To this Lawless replied, shaking his head: ”I have a wife and child in England.”
But Pierre did not reply. He lifted the bugle, mutely asking a question of Adderley, who as mutely replied, and then, with it in his hand, left the other two beside the fire.
A few minutes later they heard, with three calls of the bugle from the point afterwards, Pierre's voice: ”John York, John York, where art thou gone, John York?”
Then came the reply:
”King of my heart, king of my heart, I am out on the trail of thy bugles.”
THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA
Just at the point where the Peace River first hugs the vast outpost hills of the Rockies, before it hurries timorously on, through an unexplored region, to Fort St. John, there stood a hut. It faced the west, and was built half-way up Clear Mountain. In winter it had snows above it and below it; in summer it had snow above it and a very fair stretch of trees and gra.s.s, while the river flowed on the same, winter and summer. It was a lonely country. Travelling north, you would have come to the Turnagain River; west, to the Frying Pan Mountains; south, to a goodly land. But from the hut you had no outlook towards the south; your eye came plump against a hard lofty hill, like a wall between heaven and earth. It is strange, too, that, when you are in the far north, you do not look towards the south until the north turns an iron hand upon you and refuses the hospitality of food and fire; your eyes are drawn towards the Pole by that charm--deadly and beautiful--for which men have given up three points of the compa.s.s, with their pleasures and ease, to seek a grave solitude, broken only by the beat of a musk-ox's hoofs, the long breath of the caribou, or the wild cry of the puma.
Sir Duke Lawless had felt this charm, and had sworn that one day he would again leave his home in Devon and his house in Pont Street, and, finding Pierre, Shon M'Gann, and others of his old comrades, together they would travel into those austere yet pleasant wilds. He kept his word, found Shon M'Gann, and on an autumn day of a year not so long ago lounged in this hut on Clear Mountain. They had had three months of travel and sport, and were filled, but not sated, with the joy of the hunter. They were very comfortable, for their host, Pourcette, the French Canadian, had fire and meat in plenty, and, if silent, was attentive to their comfort--a little, black-bearded, grey-headed man, with heavy brows over small vigilant eyes, deft with his fingers, and an excellent sportsman, as could be told from the skins heaped in all the corners of the large hut.
The skins were not those of mere foxes or martens or deer, but of mountain lions and grizzlies. There were besides many soft, tiger-like skins, which Sir Duke did not recognise. He kept looking at them, and at last went over and examined one.
”What's this, Monsieur Pourcette?” he said, feeling it as it lay on the top of the pile.
The little man pushed the log on the fireplace with his moccasined foot before he replied: ”Of a puma, m'sieu'.”
Sir Duke smoothed it with his hand. ”I didn't know there were pumas here.”
”Faith, Sir Duke--”
Sir Duke Lawless turned on Shon quickly. ”You're forgetting again, Shon.
There's no 'Sir Dukes' between us. What you were to me years ago on the wally-by-track and the buffalo-trail, you are now, and I'm the same also: M'Gann and Lawless, and no other.”
”Well, then, Lawless, it's true enough as he says it, for I've seen more than wan skin brought in, though I niver clapped eye on the beast alive.
There's few men go huntin' them av their own free will, not more than they do grizzlies; but, bedad, this French gintleman has either the luck o' the world, or the gift o' that man ye tould me of, that slew the wild boars in anciency. Look at that, now: there's thirty or forty puma-skins, and I'd take my oath there isn't another man in the country that's shot half that in his lifetime.”
Pourcette's eyes were on the skins, not on the men, and he did not appear to listen. He sat leaning forward, with a strange look on his face. Presently he got up, came over, and stroked the skins softly. A queer chuckling noise came from his throat.
”It was good sport?” asked Lawless, feeling a new interest in him.
”The grandest sport--but it is not so easy,” answered the old man. ”The grizzly comes on you bold and strong; you know your danger right away, and have it out. So. But the puma comes--G.o.d, how the puma comes!” He broke off, his eyes burning bright under his bushy brows and his body arranging itself into an att.i.tude of expectation and alertness.
”You have travelled far. The sun goes down. You build a fire and cook your meat, and then good tea and the tabac. It is ver' fine. You hear the loon crying on the water, or the last whistle of the heron up the pa.s.s. The lights in the sky come out and s.h.i.+ne through a thin mist--there is nothing like that mist, it is so fine and soft. Allons.
You are sleepy. You bless the good G.o.d. You stretch pine branches, wrap in your blanket, and lie down to sleep. If it is winter and you have a friend, you lie close. It is all quiet. As you sleep, something comes.
It slides along the ground on its belly, like a snake. It is a pity if you have not ears that feel--the whole body as ears. For there is a swift lunge, a snarl--ah, you should hear it! the thing has you by the throat, and there is an end!”
The old man had acted all the scenes: a sidelong glance, a little gesture, a movement of the body, a quick, harsh breath--without emphatic excitement, yet with a reality and force that fascinated his two listeners. When he paused, Shon let go a long breath, and Lawless looked with keen inquiry at their entertainer. This almost unnatural, yet quiet, intensity had behind it something besides the mere spirit of the sportsman. Such exhibitions of feeling generally have an unusual personal interest to give them point and meaning.
”Yes, that's wonderful, Pourcette,” he said; ”but that's when the puma has things its own way. How is it when these come off?” He stroked the soft furs under his hand.