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The sharp edge of the ledge was of ice of the most gla.s.sy nature, and Steve closed his eyes, for he had done all that mortal could do; his fingers glided over the angle to which they had for a moment or two clung, and then, as he drew himself up, he was falling like a ball, and as swift right on to the climbing bear.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
WATTY'S FEAST.
Watty Links was undoubtedly great in a certain capacity. He resembled a Dutch galliot, especially built to contain the largest quant.i.ty of merchandise in the smallest tonnage. Of course Watty was not built to receive merchandise, but he was built to receive food, and the quant.i.ty he could consume when he was unfettered was so great that a crew made up of men proportionately as great eaters would have made a captain wince when stores were running out, and shipowners decline to take them again at any wage.
There being a pretty good amount of the deer haunch left when the men departed--for in their hurry and excitement no one had thought it worth while to pack it up--Watty was left, so to speak, with a free hand--that is to say, he had a fire, plenty of meat, a knife, he knew how to cook, and there was no one to say, "Hold hard, young fellow! I'm sure you have had quite enough." So after making such arrangements as should provide an ample amount of roast deer for Steve when he returned, and also for the three personages of the expedition, Watty took a look round.
The sun was getting lower, but the glittering ice peaks and the lights and shades on the mountain were beautiful to behold. But Watty did not see that beauty. He noticed how profound the silence was, thought it very lonely, and turned back to the fire, which was the most beautiful thing he had seen that day, for the gas and smoke were gone, and the coal was all of a hot glow, there being plenty and no question of its price per ton.
"She wonters where the young chief has gone," muttered Watty. "Hey, but what a fire to broil a bone!"
A minute later the leg bone of the buck was spitting and sputtering on the glowing coals, and Watty smiled as he felt in his pockets and brought out a tobacco box, which, on being opened, proved to contain two pieces of rag, which he also opened, and displayed about a dessert-spoonful of salt and about half that quant.i.ty of black pepper.
"She smells fine alreaty," said the lad; and he took a pinch of pepper as if it were snuff, and carefully sprinkled it over the grilling bone, following it up with a pinch of salt. Then the box, with its contents, was put away, and Watty dived into his pockets again, to bring out a couple of biscuits.
"Twa biscuit," he said. "Hey, but she willna waste ta pread when she can have sae muckle gude meat!"
He turned the bone over and waited a few minutes, which he spent in whetting the blade of his knife on a piece of smooth stone, and trying its edge again and again, and ending by giving it a stropping on his boot sole as if he meant to shave.
"Done!" he cried suddenly; and whisking the browned and in some places blackened bone from the fire, he squatted down with his legs doubled under him like a j.a.panese, and began to skin off pieces of the tempting venison, and ate them deliberately, smiling with satisfaction the while.
"I ken naebody could hae cookit deer meat efer so petter as tat," he said as he worked away, thoroughly enjoying his picnic meal till the last sc.r.a.p was cleaned off, and then he cracked the bone with the back of his knife, and managed to get out a good deal of the marrow.
"She's fine, though she is mickle," he said; and then he sighed and looked hard at the pieces of the deer set aside for the absent ones--a shabby, raggedly cut lot, though of course of delicious meat.
Watty stretched his eyes away and had a look round.
"They dinna come pack," he said, "and it's chust wasting a bonnie bit fire."
There was a pause.
"She'd petter pit on some mair coal," muttered Watty; and he picked up a weather-worn lump, but dropped it again.
"It's chust spoiling a gude fire to put on mair coal," he said softly, with his face all wrinkles, "and a' tat meat waiting."
He had another look round.
"She's ferry hungry," he muttered; "and she'll chust hae ane wee pit.
The captain said he couldna eat. She can."
He made a dart at the biggest piece, laid it on the glowing coal, seasoned it as before, waited till it was done on one side, and then picked it up cleverly on the point of his knife and turned it, seasoned this side also, and replaced his box.
"Peautiful, peautiful!" he murmured. "Hey, put she smells petter than floores!"
He did not leave the meat to cook too long, but soon had it out and laid upon a nicely warmed, flat piece of slaty stone, which served him for a plate as he began to eat with the greatest of gusto.
"Hey, put she is chuicy," he muttered, as he munched away without paying much heed to a bit or two of cinder adhering to the meat and sounding unpleasant as he crunched them between his strong, white teeth.
"Peautiful!" he murmured again, as he got about half-way through.
"She's thenking it would pe petter to begin cooking mair so as to be retty when they come pack."
So he placed another piece on the fire, and then went on eating his second snack so slowly and deliberately, spending a certain amount of time the while in watching and turning the cooking piece that it was beautifully done by the time he had finished; and now came a terrible test of his powers of endurance. He looked at the frizzled slice, then away from it, then back at it; and it tempted him so sorely that he got up and walked away.
"She's letting the fire oot," he cried, and ran back to stand looking down at it. "Nay, put she'd spoil a gude cooking fire if she put on anny coal. She'll cook ta rest."
No sooner said than done. A fresh piece was put on the glowing cinders, and the newly cooked slice placed upon the bit of shale.
"She'll chust spoil if she gets caud," muttered Watty. "The teer-fat goes hart and stickits to the roof of her mouth, an' it's a pity to spoil such bonnie meat."
He gave his shock head a rub, and looked round again, wondering whether there were any bears likely to come and disturb him; but, as far as he could see, he was quite alone in the grand solitude, and he uttered a deep sigh.
"She never said she was to cook anny meat," he said, "an' it such a pity to let it spoil. She'll chust eat this wee pit, an' they'll pe pack py the time the nex' pit is tone."
Watty took another look, then seasoned and saw to the fresh piece frizzling; and the next minute the smell and sight of the slice upon the stone were too tempting to be resisted longer, and he began upon it and finished it as ravenously as if he had not had a morsel before.
"Hey, put she is fine," he murmured with a sigh of satisfaction; "she never hat such a gran' treat pefore, an' it would pe wicket to let such gude meat spoil by ketting caud. The captain an' the tocktor poth said they wadna eat a pit, an' perhaps Meester Stevey's gone pack to ta ship or the poat pecause she was tired. She hasna the hairt to see such gude meat spoil."
Poor Watty had grown reckless now, and, casting conscience to the winds, he went on with his banquet. His appet.i.te seemed to increase as he went on, and, forgetful of bears, captains, doctors, Nors.e.m.e.n, and Steves, seeing, tasting, and enjoying the cooking and eating of these juicy, well-seasoned, delicious pieces of venison, time seemed to be no more for him, and he only awoke to his position as he shook out the contents of his pepper and salt rags on the last piece of meat, a goodly slice, the best of all, which he had avoided eating, always having selected the smaller bits.
"Hat she petter leave tat?" he sighed, as he looked at it longingly and pa.s.sed his tongue over his lips. "Nay, if she toes, they'll expeckit mair; put if there's nane they winna say a word. She'll hae to eat tat, too."
The piece was half done, and he turned it, inhaling its delicious odour as he gloated over the brown side, and then took out his biscuits and had them ready.
"Chust to fanish off," he said, smiling faintly. "She'll chust pit it atween twa biscuit, an' mak' a santwich of it, an' then--Yah!"
Watty uttered an unearthly yell, for a great shadow fell across the fire at that moment, and he was thrust sidewise, to fall just clear of the fire upon his face.
"The pears--the pears!" he groaned. "What shall she to?" But he did not stir, neither did he see that the piece of hot meat had been literally s.n.a.t.c.hed off the fire, and a crunching sound told him that a pair of strong jaws, with great, white teeth that in imagination he could see gleaming, were grinding up the biscuits that were to form the _finale_ of his meal.
"The pear always hugs her pefore she eats her oop," thought Watty, as he lay there shivering with dread, this being the only movement he could contrive, feeling as he did that if he attempted to escape the great animal would seize him. Then he recollected reading about a traveller pretending to be dead, and lying face downward till a bear in pursuit overtook him, smelled him over, and then went away.
"She lie as tet as a toornail," thought Watty; and he tried to hold his breath as he waited for the bear to come. But it was evidently too busy with the food, crunching up the biscuits and finishing the meat.
"Oh, if she could only lie still an' not preathe a pit!" said the lad to himself. "She can't, an' it makes a noise. She wishes the pear would come an' smell her an' go."
But the new arrival was too busy, and made Watty, as he lay there on his face, moist with perspiration, wonder how so big a beast could be so long eating so small a quant.i.ty of food.
At last the boy felt as if he could endure no more, and that he must make a leap to his feet and run for his life. He knew that the thing to do would be to draw a very deep breath, make a sudden effort, and run, for the suffering from lying there those brief minutes, which seemed to be like hours, was more than he could endure.
He had made up his mind to try, but his heart sank, and he lay a little longer. A second time he tried to screw himself up to the sticking-point, but failed, and lay panting, till all at once, just as he was saying to himself, "She must to it ta third time," the bear uttered a low "Ah-ah-ah!" and the lad sprang to his feet.
"That's right, Watty; get me a drink of water."
"Meester Stevey!" exclaimed the lad. "Oh! oh! oh!" he half sobbed, and, throwing himself again upon the ground, he buried his face in his hands, and lay gently rolling from side to side, trying to stifle the hysterical fit which had attacked him; for it was mingled with relief from what he had looked upon as certain death, anger with himself for making such a blunder, and delight at Steve's return.