Part 9 (1/2)

”I have made one trip to the north,” continued Barwell Dawson, ”and I am soon going to make another.”

”You mean to Canada?” queried Andy.

”Not exactly. I am going to Greenland, and then into the polar regions.

I want to hunt seals, polar bears, and musk oxen.”

”You'll be frozen to death!”

”Hardly,” answered the hunter. ”On my previous trip I stood the cold very well, and this time I shall go much better prepared. Somehow, I like hunting in the Arctic Circle better than hunting anywhere else.

Besides, I wish to--But never mind that now,” and Barwell Dawson broke off rather abruptly. Then he told a story of a hunt after polar bears that made Chet's eyes water.

”That's the stuff!” whispered Chet to Andy. ”That beats a deer hunt all hollow!”

”Yes, provided the polar bear doesn't eat you up.”

”Huh! I'd not be afraid. I don't believe a polar bear is any more dangerous than a moose.”

”I saw a moose just before I had the tumble,” said Barwell Dawson. ”I climbed up the cliff after him, but I couldn't get very close. I took two shots at him, but he got away.”

”If we are going to be snowed up here we ought to try for some game,”

said Chet. ”Maybe I can stir up some rabbits, or something.”

It was decided that he should go out, leaving Andy to look after Mr.

Dawson and the campfire.

”But don't go far,” cautioned Andy. ”The snow is coming down so thick that you may get lost.”

”Oh, I'll take care of myself,” answered Chet.

He knew it would be a bad move to go out into the open, so he kept to the timber, blazing a tree here and there as he went along. He knew very little game would be stirring.

”If I get anything it will be more accident than anything else,” he reasoned. ”No animal is going to stir out in this storm.”

He was just pa.s.sing under a big spruce tree when, chancing to glance up, he saw a sight that quickened his pulse. On a limb close at hand were several wild turkeys, huddled together to keep warm.

With great caution he moved to one side, to get a good aim. Then, raising his gun, he blazed away. There was a whirr and a flutter, and two of the turkeys came down, one dead and the other wounded. Rus.h.i.+ng forward, Chet caught the wounded bird by the neck, and soon put it out of its misery.

”That's a good start,” he told himself, with much satisfaction. ”I hope my luck continues.”

Placing the game in his bag, he went forward again, looking for more signs of birds, and also for signs of squirrels and rabbits.

It was growing dark, and Chet began to think it was time to turn back, when he saw some rabbits in a thick clump of bushes. He sprang in after them, and they leaped out into the snow and across a small opening.

Then, before he could fire, they were out of sight again.

”You shan't get away from me as easily as that,” the youth muttered to himself, and ran out into the opening. Here the snow was so thick he could see but little, yet he kept on, and soon reached more brushwood.

He saw some branches close to the snow move, and blazed away in the dark.