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"Wise Bird," almost sobbed Carcajou, in his grat.i.tude, "this scheming rascal took advantage of my misfortune, and tried to make me promise to do something for him, or he would let Francois catch me."
"Pisew is not to be trusted--he is too much like a Man," a.s.serted Jack.
Turning to the Lynx, he exclaimed, angrily: "You go on the back-trail there, and if Francois comes, lead him off slowly; just keep in his sight--he'll follow you. I will get the Lieutenant out of this. Mind, if you play any tricks, or break the Oath of the Boundaries, the King will command Blue Wolf to break your back--he'll do it too. I'm off for help," he said to the prisoner; "just keep your courage up, old Carey;"
and working his fan-like wings with exceeding diligence, he dove through the woods at a great rate toward the King's Burrow.
"I was only joking, dear friend Carcajou," said Lynx, fawningly, for he dreaded the anger of the other animals. "Don't say a word about it to the King; he might think I was in earnest."
"Traitor!" snarled Wolverine; "go back and watch for Francois."
"Don't say any more about it," pleaded Pisew, "and I'll watch, oh, so carefully, most loyal, true Lieutenant."
Whisky-Jack's shrill call from a tree startled the family of the Red Widow.
"Quick, Royal Son," she cried, "there's a danger signal. Listen: 'Hee-e-e-p, hee-e-ep, he-e-e-ep!' That means some one caught. Where are my Sons? All here but Stripes, Goodness!" She wrung her paws miserably, and in her eagerness rushed to the door. "What is it, Bringer of Evil News? Who's caught--not my Baby Cub?" she asked of Whisky-Jack.
"No, Good Dame. Would you believe it, the cleverest one in all the Boundaries, excepting your Son, is now keeping the jaws of a Trap apart with his own soft paws--it's Carcajou."
"What's to do?" cried Black Fox, joining his Mother.
"Carcajou is caught!" she answered, heaving a sigh of relief that it wasn't Cross-stripes.
Jay Bird explained the situation.
"n.o.body but Muskwa can spring a Number Four Trap," a.s.serted the King; "and he is holed up these two days--isn't he, Mother?"
"Yes," she a.s.sented. "And asleep by now. You will find him at the big Burrow that is in the fourth cut-bank from here up stream."
"The old Chap must get up, then," cried Black Fox, with emphasis, "for he is not in the deep frost-sleep yet. Here, Jack, run and bring Beaver to cut off the pole Carcajou's Trap is ringed to, and I'll go for Muskwa; if you see Rof, tell him to meet me at Bear's Burrow."
The King had a tremendous time with Muskwa. Bruin was sleepy and cranky.
"Quick! wake up, Brother!" Black Fox shouted in his ear. The Bear never moved--simply snored.
The energetic visitor turned tail on, and proceeded to rake Bruin's ribs with his strong hind feet as a dog makes the gravel fly. Muskwa grunted and simply flicked his short, woolly ears. The King jumped on him, set up the long howl of the Kill in his very face, put his sharp teeth through one of the nerveless ears, and generally held a small riot over the sleeper. He never would have managed to wake Bear had not Blue Wolf arrived to help him.
Muskwa was for all the world like a maudlin, drunken old sailor. "All right, you Fellows," he said groggily, his eyes still closed, "I don't want any more Berries--eat 'em yourself."
"Not Berries!" howled Wolf; "Carcajou is in a Trap."
"Go 'way--don't believe it. Carcajou's an old Sweep!"
Blue Wolf's powerful voice rang the Chase Note in Muskwa's ear. It woke the big fellow sufficiently to enable him to take a side-hook sweep at the offender with his disengaged paw. The blow was a sleepy one, else it had cracked his tormentor's skull.
"He's coming all right," remarked the King, critically.
"By the Flavour of Meat, he is!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Rof.
In the end they got Muskwa on his feet, with a little understanding in his stupor-clogged brain, and half-pushing, half-leading, conducted him to where Carcajou was sitting in the stocks. In his flight Whisky-Jack had met Mooswa, and he was there also. Beaver was chiselling away at the pole; for once loosened, even if they could not spring the Trap sufficiently to get Carcajou's paws out, between them they might manage to get him away and cached somewhere; anything was better than letting him fall into the Trapper's hands.
"Of all the wood I ever cut this is the worst," panted Umisk, resting for a minute. "It cramps my neck cutting down so close sideways. It is dry Tamarack, the slivers are all sticking in my tongue."
As Black Fox and Rof withdrew their paws from under Muskwa's arms, he keeled over lazily and went sound asleep in two seconds. "Give him a good lift with your hind-foot, Mooswa," commanded the King, sharply.
"Of all the heavy-brained Animals I ever saw!"
"If we but had some of Man's fire," opined Jack, "we could wake him up quick enough by singeing a couple of my feathers under his nose."
Mooswa planted both hind-feet, bang! in Bear's ribs; Rof gave a deep bay in his face; Black King once more put his saw-like teeth through an ear; and by these gentle, persuasive methods Muskwa was wakened sufficiently to get on his feet. He swayed drunkenly. "Stop fighting, Cubs!" he growled, under the impression that he was being bothered by some of his own children.
"Get up and squeeze the springs of the Trap--Carcajou is caught! Here they are--put a paw on each--there! squeeze!" yelled Black Fox.
Just then Beaver finished cutting the pole, and it fell with a crash--the noise helped waken Muskwa.
"Slip the ring off the stub, Umisk, that's a good Chap," cried Wolverine. This done, he and the Trap clattered to the ground.
"Come on!" screamed Black Fox to Muskwa, as he and Rof shouldered him to the Trap. "Squeeze now!" the Fox shouted again, placing Bear's powerful paws on the springs.
"I'll squeeze," answered Bruin, petulantly; "but why don't you speak louder--say what you mean. You Fellows have all got colds--I can't hear you."
"Dead Eagles! but Francois will," remarked Jay.
"There, now, a little harder--use your strength, Muskwa!"
The Bear pressed his great weight on the springs; they slipped down, and the jaws slowly opened like the sides of a travelling-bag. With a cry of delight Carcajou pulled his bruised fingers out, and in grat.i.tude rubbed his short little c.o.o.n-like head against Bruin's great cheek.
"Good old Muskwa!" he cried joyfully; "I'll never forget this."
"Your fingers will be a long time sore, then," sneered Jay.
"Never--mind--little friend. It's all right; let me go--to sleep now, don't--don't bother;" and he flopped over like a bag of potatoes, sighed wearily once or twice, and started off with a monotonous, bubbling snore. "He's hopeless," moaned the King. "We'll never get him home."
"I saw Francois just like that once," chirped Whisky-Jack; "he had some medicine in a bottle, and the more of it he took the sleepier he got."
"How in the name of Many Birds shall we ever get him back to his hole?"
asked Black Fox, perplexedly.
"I'll carry him," declared the Moose. "Here, you Fellows, roll him up on my horns;" and dropping to his knees Mooswa put the great, chair-like spread of his antlers down to the snow.
"Come, Pisew, give us a hand," commanded the King. Beaver, and Lynx, and Rof, and Black Fox shouldered and pushed at the huge black ball, and Mooswa kept edging his horn-cradle in under the ma.s.s, until finally Muskwa lay snugly in the hollow.
"Now all give a mighty push, and help me up!" snuffed the Moose. "All right," he added, staggering to his feet, and pointing his nose skyward, allowing the burdened antlers to lie along his withers.
"Ride with Muskwa, Jack," commanded the King, "and show Mooswa the old Sleeper's house. Branch out, the rest of you, and make the Many-trail; for many trails make few catches." Carcajou was sitting on his haunches, licking his aching paws. "How are you going to get home, Little Comrade?" he asked.
"I'll give him a lift," interposed Blue Wolf. "Clamber up, old Curiosity." They were a funny-looking party--quite like an ambulance train; Muskwa asleep on Mooswa's horns, and Carcajou astraddle of Wolf's strong back.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THEY WERE A FUNNY-LOOKING PARTY.]
"Walk in Rof's tracks, Pisew, till you strike a muskeg," ordered the King; "Francois won't fancy the fun of following a traveller like you through a big swamp."
"I should like to hide that Trap," lamented Carcajou.