The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough
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stalking their game, because presently the old grizzly changed her mind and led the way out to the bank where several fish were lying flapping. Upon these they all fell eagerly, grunting and grumbling, and now and again fighting among themselves.
Rob turned toward his friends. “Quick now!” he whispered, sternly, and led the way, crawling into the high grass which would afford them cover for a closer approach to their game. The hearts of all of them now were throbbing wildly, and probably each one doubted his ability to do good shooting. Something, however, led them on, and although Rob saw two pale faces following him when he looked back, there was a glitter in the eyes of each which told him that at least each of his friends would do his best.
Passing now out of the grass to the cover of the bank again, Rob ran along crouching, until he pulled up under cover of the bank at a point not more than seventy-five yards from where they could now distinctly hear the bears at their feeding.
“Get ready now!” he whispered.
Slowly the three crawled to the top of the bank. Rob laid a hand on Jesse’s rifle barrel, which he saw was unsteady. He made motions to both of the others not to be excited. A strange sort of calm seemed to have come upon him. Yet, plucky as he was, he was not prepared for the sight which met him as he gazed through the parted grass at the top of the bank.
The old grizzly, once more suspicious, had again sat up on her haunches, and turning her head from side to side began to sniff as though she scented danger. Her shaggy hair shone silvery now in the sun, and she seemed enormously large. Rob’s heart leaped to his mouth, but suddenly dropping to his knee, and calling out to the others “Now!” he fired without longer hesitation.
The sound of the other two rifles followed at once. The great bear gave a hoarse roar which seemed to make the hair prickle on the boys’ heads; but even as she roared she dropped and floundered in the mud of the bank, up which she strove to climb. Again and again the rifles spoke.
“Now the little ones — quick!” cried Rob, half springing to his feet, and continuing to fire steadily. Some one’s shot struck the first cub square through the spine and killed it instantly. The second cub stood but a moment longer. These boys had used rifles many times before, and although not every shot went true, perhaps half of them struck their mark; and it was as Rob had said — the rifles shot as hard for them as for a grown man.
The great she bear, possessed of enormous vitality, was not easily disposed of. The magazines of all the rifles were emptied the second time before Rob would allow them to go a foot closer, and even so, the great gray body retained life enough to roll half down the bank as they approached. This time Rob finished the old bear with a shot through the head, at a distance of not more than thirty yards.
The game was down and dead — three great bears, one of them huge beyond the wildest dreams of any of them, and unbelievably large even for the most widely experienced sportsman. Indeed, any sportsman might have been proud of this record. Rob turned to look at his friends.
Suddenly he himself sat down, and to his surprise found that he was trembling violently all over. Jesse and John were both doing the same. He saw that their faces were deathly pale.
“I’m — I’m — I’m sort of — sort of sick at my stomach!” said Jesse.
X
THE SAVAGE REFUGEE
“Well,” said Rob, finally, looking around at his friends and grinning, “I don’t know which of us is the worst scared; but, anyhow, we’ve got our game, and a lot of it. Do you suppose we can skin these big fellows?”
“We’ll have to,” said John. “There’s meat enough to last us a year. That old bear is bigger than any horse in Valdez.”
“And tough as any horse, too,” said Rob. “The cubs may be better to eat. I have heard my father say that bear liver isn’t bad; and certainly we can get all the fat we want to fry our fish. Lucky we’ve all got our hunting-knives along; so here goes!”
They now arose and began the difficult task of skinning out the great bear — slow work for even an experienced hunter. They kept at it, however, and had made a good beginning when all at once a slight sound at the edge of the creek bank attracted Rob’s attention.
As he turned the others noticed him, and all three of them stood staring an instant later at the same object: a round, dark face gazing at them motionless through the grass — a face with cunning little eyes set slantwise, like those of a Japanese, and long, stringy locks of dark hair hanging down about the cheeks. Instinctively each boy reached for his rifle, which he had left leaning against the carcass of the great bear. Apparently not alarmed, the face kept its place, staring steadily at them. Rob now guessed the truth, which was that this Aleut savage had heard the shots and had entered the mouth of the creek in his boat. Not knowing whether he was friend or foe, Rob motioned the others to follow him, and approached him with his rifle at a ready.
Seeing that they were not afraid, nor disposed to be driven from their place, the Aleut savage — for such it proved to be — arose, and with what he meant to be a smile stretched out his hand as though in friendship. His gun, a rusty old affair, he left lying on the ground at his side. Rob kicked it away as he approached.
They now saw how the Aleut had reached them. His boat, a long, native bidarka, lay in the creek, up which the native had paddled silently on his own errand of discovery. This boat interested the boys very much. It was nearly twenty feet long and not more than two feet wide, covered entirely with tightly stretched skin. In the deck were two round holes, around each of which there was a mantle, or hood, of oiled hide or membrane, which could be drawn up about the waist of a man sitting in the hatch. On the narrow and sloping deck there was lashed a long spear and an extra paddle. The boys also noticed sticking to the deck a stringy-looking mass of grayish white, which at first they could not identify, though later they found it to be a collection of devil-fish, or octopi, which the native had gathered among the rocks for later use as food. Peering into the hatches they saw a copper kettle partly filled with a whitish-looking meat, which later they found to be whale flesh. There was a ragged blanket of fur thrust under the deck between the hatches.
“He’s been cruising along the coast,” said Rob; “but this is a two-hatch bidarka, so probably he’s got a partner somewhere around.”
“Maybe he’s up at our house now stealing everything we left there,” suggested Jesse.
“Yes, and maybe it’s his house that we’ve moved into,” added John.
Rob, the older of the boys, and the one on whose judgment they had come to rely, remained silent a moment.
“Boys,” said he, at last, “this fellow looks like mischief to me. We can’t let him go away, to come back after awhile and rob us. We can’t leave his gun here with him and go on with our work. The only thing we can do is to take him in charge for a while.”
“Let me get his gun away from him,” began John.
Possibly the Aleut understood some of this, for all at once he made a sudden spring and caught at his gun.
Quick as a flash Rob covered him with his own rifle. “No, you don’t,” he said; “drop it! That settles it for you!”
Again the Aleut seemed to understand, for he stood up, tried to smile again, and once more held out his hand.
“Take his gun and chuck it in the boat, Jess,” commanded Rob. “Now you mush on!” he ordered the Aleut, pointing to the carcass of the bear. (“Mush on,” in Alaska dog-train vernacular, means “march on,” being a corruption from the French word marchons.)
The native sullenly walked on ahead, and finally sat down by the side of the bear.
“You watch him, John,” said Rob. “I’ve got to go on skinning this bear.” So saying, he resumed his work,