The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough
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mustn’t ask me,” said he. “This isn’t my country, and I’ve never been here before, nor seen any man who has been here. I know there are caribou in British Columbia, far to the north.”
“Mackenzie talks about seeing reindeer in here.”
“Yes, I suppose he meant the black-faced caribou of the mountains, and not the regular barren-ground animal which goes in the big herds. It’s odd, but those early men didn’t seem to know all the animals on which they depended so much. Without doubt Mackenzie called the musk-ox some sort of buffalo, and he called these mountain caribou the reindeer. But we might get one for all of that. How would you like to go with me across the river, Mr. Rob, and make a little hunt?”
“Fine!” assented Rob, eagerly. “But how about the others?”
“I’ll tell you, Rob,” said John, who, to tell the truth, was just a little tired from the hard work of the day before; “you and Alex go across, and after a while Moise will take Jess and me out on this side a little way back. We’ll all meet here this evening.”
This plan was agreed to, and in the course of a few moments Alex and Rob were pushing across the river in the Mary Ann, equipped lightly for their first hunt after some game which Rob was eager to meet because it was new to him.
Once more they pushed through heavy undergrowth close to the river, traveled up a rather lofty bank, and found themselves in flatter country, beyond which at some distance rose some mountains.
“I’ll bet you,” said Rob, “that this is just about where Mackenzie climbed the tree to look around — you can’t see much from the river down there, and his men were complaining about the hard work, and he didn’t know where he was. So he climbed a tree to have a look.”
“Well, Mr. Rob,” said Alex, “if you don’t mind, I’ll let you do the climbing, while I sit here and smoke. I’m not quite as light as I once was.”
“All right,” said Rob. And, divesting himself of his cartridge-belt and jacket, a little later he began to make his way up to the topmost branches of the tall spruce, breaking off the dead limbs as he slowly advanced upward.
Rob remained aloft for some moments, but at last descended and rejoined Alex.
“Now, what did you see, Mr. Rob?” inquired the old hunter.
“Well, I don’t know,” said Rob; “it’s hard to figure out exactly, of course. But Mackenzie talks about high mountains off to the northwest, and a parallel range of mountains running to the south, with a narrow valley between. That, of course, must be this river, and as near as I can tell, it must have been about here that he and Mackay and the Indian hunters took to the shore to spy out the way.”
“And jolly well got lost, too, eh?”
“They certainly did — got lost from their boat for an entire day! I can imagine how they felt when they didn’t know whether the boat was above them or below them. Mackenzie says the mosquitoes about ate them up. They sent branches down the river to let the boatmen know they were above them. It wasn’t until night that finally they found the boat was far below them. I’ll warrant they were glad when they got together again. The truth is, the men were almost ready to turn back and leave Mackenzie where he was.”
“They’d have done that a dozen times but for his courage,” said Alex. “Well, now, what would you do, Mr. Rob, if you should get lost in the woods or mountains any time?”
“I’d try to keep cool,” said Rob, “but I’m not sure that I could. It’s a mighty bad feeling — I know what it is myself. What would you do, Alex, if you ever got lost in a storm, or anything of that kind?”
“Sit down and build a fire,” answered Alex. “Go to sleep, take it easy, and wait till my mind got cool. Then when you’re rested and all ready to go on, you nearly always know which is the right direction. You see, an Injun is a good deal like a dog, as Moise would say. But now suppose I should get separated from you in here — how would you get back to camp?”
“Well, you see,” said Rob, “there is that high mountain on this side of the river, and there is one right opposite, far off on the east side. I know our camp is on the line between those two peaks. Of course I’d know the river was downhill, unless I wandered off over some other little divide. I’d just simply go downhill as straight as I could until I hit the river. Of course I couldn’t tell, maybe, whether I was just above or below the camp. But I’d wait to see smoke, and I’d fire off my rifle, hoping that some one would hear me. Then I think I would not go very far from that place. I’d sit down and build a smoke, and wait.”
“That would be the best way to do,” Alex assented. “But do you know, simple as that seems, lots of grown men couldn’t do it — they’d lose their heads and be just as apt to go west as east! Many a man has been lost in the wilderness simply because he got excited and scared and didn’t take it easy. Always remember that whenever you are in a wild country it isn’t as dangerous as it seems to be.
“But come, now,” he resumed, “I suppose we must get over in that flat country and see if we can find any sign of game.”
“How do you hunt caribou, Alex? I don’t know anything about it.”
“That’s hard to answer,” rejoined the old hunter. “Of course you can take a trail if you can find it, and if it seems fresh. An Injun hunts moose by following the trail. But either a moose or a caribou has very keen scent, and if you follow straight on after them, and don’t circle once in a while and pick up the trail again, you’re not apt to come up with either one or the other. A caribou, however, is a strange animal — it isn’t nearly as wild as a moose or a bighorn. A grizzly bear has very keen scent but very bad eyes, and I don’t suppose a grizzly can see you half a mile at best. Now, a caribou has good eyes, ears, and nose, but he hasn’t got any head. Sometimes he is very shy, and sometimes he’ll stand and look at you, and let you keep on shooting. He seems to be full of curiosity, and wants to know what you’re doing.
“We’ll work on over a little at a time,” he continued, “and maybe if we skirt around some open meadows or glades we may see some tracks. Sometimes they come out in places like that to feed or stand around. A water-hole or little lake, too, is good for game usually. When an Injun knows he’s in a country where game is moving or feeding he keeps pretty quiet and lets the game come to him rather than going to it.”
The theories laid down by the old hunter seemed soon to work out fairly well, because they had not gone up more than a mile farther until they got into a country which showed considerable sign of moose and caribou, the latter in rather a fresh trail. As this led them to a sort of open, grassy glade, where other sign was abundant, Alex paused for a time in the hope that something might show from the heavy cover in which they had been traveling.
At last he quietly laid a hand on Rob’s arm, and without making any sudden movement, pointed across the glade, which at that place was several hundred yards wide.
“Oh, I see them!” said Rob, in an excited whisper. “What funny-looking things they are — five of them!”
“Two stags, three cows,” said Alex, quietly. “Too far to shoot. Wait awhile.”
They drew back now into the cover of the surrounding valleys, where it is true the mosquitoes annoyed them unspeakably, but where they remained with such patience as they could possess. The caribou seemed to be slowly feeding out from the opposite edge of the forest, but they were very deliberate and uncertain in their progress. The two watched them for the best part of half an hour.
“Too bad!” said Alex, at last, as he peered out from behind the tree which shielded them. “Four hundred yards at best.”
Rob also ventured a look at this time.
“Why, there’s only three,” said he.
“Yes, the two stags went back into the woods.”
“But we can’t kill the cows,” said Rob, decisively.
“Why