Poems of James McIntyre Part 15

BEAR HUNT.

Two youths came over from York state, Bill Brown and Tom Dawes his mate, For many months they were wishing The sport of hunting and of fishing.

They rowed along the lake in punt, When tired of fishing they would hunt, At river's mouth they caught fine trout, In woods close by they saw bear's snout.

In front of her play little chubs, Fat and slick her darling cubs, Kind thoughts in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s they smother And cruelly they shoot the mother.

And bullet fearful tore her jaws, A b.l.o.o.d.y wound, but with her paws, Erect in air an awful sight, She was prepared for her young to fight.

But this did not daunt bold Bill Brown, With club he tried to knock her down, But she gave him an awful hug, With paws she at him fierce did tug.

He would been smothered but for Dawes, Who rescued him from her great paws, With club he knocked her on the crown And thus he saved the life of Brown.

She rose again with savage frown And quickly broke two ribs for Brown, His clothes were all torn with her claws, She smeared with blood both Brown and Dawes.

But Dawes now quick doth end the strife By stabbing her with hunting knife, And now around this hunter bold His bear skin coat keeps out the cold.

c.o.o.n HUNTING.

Canadians oft by light of moon Love to go a hunting c.o.o.n, But this our tale it is no yarn, While chopping down tree Henry Karn Found therein a hollow chamber Full of c.o.o.ns who there did clamber, It made them a home superior, Warm and snug in the interior.

And he did count therein eleven Who long had found it a safe haven, But it is sad to read their fate, For out of them he slaughtered eight.

But trouble to him now occurs What shall he do with those fine furs, Shall he grand overcoat display Or make them into robe for sleigh.

SAILOR'S YARN.

While voyaging on northern seas For days we could not catch a breeze, But were held fast as if in vice Surrounded by the bergs of ice, We could not move the ship or boat But on low, flat iceberg we did float; Of provisions we took good store With big oars we rowed the berg to sh.o.r.e, And pride and joy each one feels When we had caught ten thousand seals, And our brave boys each one they dare To boldly capture great white bear; On floating berg we built with boards A storehouse for to hold our hordes, We had a stove and stock of coal, So we enjoyed this voyage droll, In centre of berg we dug a hole And erected a strong pole, The frost and ice soon held it fast And well it served us for a mast, On which we stretched out our sails And scud along before the gales, Until we came to an island And on its sides it seemed highland, And Britain being queen of seas, For her this island we did seize, To give her new coaling station For to benefit the nation, So when we had sailed landward We erected British standard On the highest mountain top, Which graceful down to sea did slope, We cast our anchor in its side So to explore it far and wide, But what was our astonishment Without the least admonishment, Our island soon away did float As if it was a mighty boat.

Can you believe this wondrous tale?

It proved to be a monster whale, And o'er the ocean quick it flew With our great iceberg and our crew, Until it came to Newfoundland, Where all did safe on the ground land; Poor whale was stranded on the beach And his sea home no more could reach, Our crew in great wealth each on shares, By selling whale and seals and bears, We hired steam tug to reach our ship, Now free from ice we had quick trip, And she being loaded down with seal, And we all shared in common weal, For joy each of us had reason, Making two trips in one season.

HUNTERS AND TRAPPERS.

Two hunters near to Hudson Bay, Their names John Grant and Tom McKay, Their skill and courage naught could daunt, The boldest one perhaps was Grant.

The winter was their busy time, When all was snow and frost and rime, It paid best then to pull trigger, For then furs were better thicker.

While setting trap Grant cut through boot And quick the blood gushed from his foot, The horrid scene, now who can paint, For loss of blood soon makes him faint.

But his kind partner Tom McKay The rush of blood he tried to stay, And when its flow did somewhat slack He carried him upon his back.

As homeward he doth slowly go, A track of blood is o'er the snow, But long and weary is the way And soon exhausted is McKay.

He feels a.s.sistance he doth want, For to rescue his dear friend Grant, He stood him up against a tree While the blood yet flowed quite free.

Now wolves had visited the trap And blood from snow they eager lap, Then tracked poor Grant, for on the snow The blood in heavy drops did flow.

He soon got help, then John McKay Doth hurry back without delay, And what a sight then met their gaze Filled them with horror and amaze.

The sight their minds will ever haunt, Mangled by wolves was their friend Grant, But round him several wolves were slain With bullet holes right through their brain.

For he had fought hard for his life, And some he slew with hunting knife, And he is still quite surrounded, While fierce brutes are badly wounded.

Now clubs doth soon dash out their brains And then they gather Grant's remains, They cut two saplings both same size, With twigs they lace them acrosswise.

So it then made for the poor dead A good soft and pliable bed, Now to his home remains they bear, Where his poor wife is in despair.

WILD GOOSE SHOT AT MIDNIGHT, NOV., 1888.

From the regions of the north Where the waters now are frozen, Towards the south they issue forth A flock of wild geese of four dozen.

But when they flew o'er the river Thames They swooped down to take a dive, But sport with shot gun at them aims And one at least did not survive.

And he now says it tasted fine, And that it was both fat and big, A hungry man did on it dine, Satisfied with just one leg.

He was sorry fowl to kill, But they awoke him from his slumber, The air with cackle they did fill, And thus they lost one of their number.

ADVENTURES WITH BEARS.

I bought of land two miles square, I knew not it contained a bear, I never thought there would be any, But alas, I found many; The bush was thick and mat and tangle, It made it a perfect jungle, But one mile square of good dry land Was enough for me to take in hand; Swamp I could reach but when frozen, Then I saw bears by the dozen, Thick as monkies in Africa, And many a strange trick I saw, Gamboling with the greatest ease, High up the trunks of the big trees, While some were swinging from branches And hanging on them with their haunches; But quietly I then tilled my farm, The bears at first done me no harm, Till one night I was roused by dogs, And found a bear was at my hogs, He threw a pig across each shoulder And there I was a sad beholder, But to the house I quickly run For to procure my loaded gun, And as he could not run but slow, So heavy laden through the snow, I him full soon did overtake, And his courage quick I did shake, For by the leg my good bold dog He bravely caught the thievish rogue, And this move made him soon fork o'er To me at once the largest porker, For moment squeeze it did pig stun, But up he rose and quick he run, The bear now scared his only hope, To let at once the other pig drop, I shot the bear right through the eyes And secured a valued prize, There's nothing I love so to eat In winter time as the bear's meat, So a victory I soon won And sold for high price grease and skin; The bears on honey love to thrive, One morn was wrecked my best beehive, That day I was to sell the honey For to raise some ready money, But bear my views he did despise And proudly carried off the prize; That night I set a good spring gun, With rails I built for him a run, Open all way to hive of bees, He tried again a hive to seize, But all his efforts were in vain, He sprung the gun and he was slain, O'er the fact I felt quite funny It well repaid me for my honey; One bear was playing on me joke, Carrying off all my young stock, I set my trap, built round it fence, Resolved he ne'er would get from thence, But at the first he did me hoax, For he was cunning as a fox, He dug under and stole my bait, But I next sunk trap and sealed his fate, My good iron trap again it caught A great bear but it came to naught, Breakfast he had at my expense And he then showed wondrous sense, Trap he picked up with greatest ease And dashed it to pieces on the trees, But blacksmith soon did it repair For I was bound to have that bear, I attached to trap a heavy clog, It was like lifting a small log, I drove in it some sharp iron spikes Which would cut deep each time he strikes, He tried again to steal my bait And break my trap at the old rate, But he soon dashed out his own brains, His carca.s.s it brought me great gains; A neighbour man who would not work I thought that he did steal my pork, But at last I found long black hairs, Then I knew it was the bears, I put through barrels rods of iron So they a bear neck would environ, And rods together they would snap, I found him choked quite dead in trap, Since then my strife with bears did cease, Now many years I've lived in peace.

QUEEN'S JUBILEE ODE, 1887.