The Wilderness Castaways Part 20

"Oh, I hope so!"

"Now I'll be leadin' ag'in, an' you follows a bit behind."

A little way down the slope Dan stopped again, and when Paul overtook him, pointed to the berries at his feet.

"See th' signs? They's been feedin' right here. Just over there they been wallerin' in th' sand."

He went forward again noiselessly, carefully scanning the receding slope ahead. Presently he began a more cautious advance, halting now and again and then advancing.

All at once, quick as a flash he threw the gun to his shoulder and fired--bang! bang!--both barrels almost as one. Quickly he dropped two fresh sh.e.l.ls in the gun, and running forward fired both barrels again.

As he did so a great flock of ptarmigans, with a noise like the wind, rose and flew far away, apparently alighting at the edge of the timber below them.

Paul hurried down to Dan, who was gathering up the fruits of his hunt.

There were eleven fat birds, now nearly white, in their winter dress.

Paul, in happy thankfulness, could scarcely control his emotion.

"It seems almost too good to be true, Dan!" he said finally.

"I finds un fine too," admitted Dan. "They was wonderful tame for a windy day, an' just runs instead of flyin' after I fires th' first shots. That gives me time t' load an' shoot ag'in."

"But how did you get so many with just four shots? Oh, Dan, I believe it's just as you always say; it was Providence sent us here and let you get so many."

"'Twere that. On th' ground I lines 'em up, an' knocks over two or three to a shot, except th' last shots, when they flies away, I only gets one on th' wing. 'Tis hard t' get more 'n one when they's flyin'.

Th' Lord just kept 'em on th' ground!"

"And now we can eat again!" exclaimed Paul.

"Yes, an' th' finest kind o' eatin' too. I'll be lookin' for th'

flock, where they flies to, an' try for another shot, while you plucks two, an' cooks un," suggested Dan, and when they reached the edge of the timber he directed:

"Go straight in here till you comes t' th' creek, an' put on your fire there, an' I'll be findin' you."

Entering the timber, Paul found himself sheltered from the wind, in pleasant contrast to the open hills. Scarcely two hundred yards from where he parted from Dan he came upon the creek. Though he had no axe he made his fire without difficulty, profiting by the wood lore learned from Dan. He had also learned the knack of plucking birds quickly, and in a little while had the two ptarmigans, impaled upon sticks, broiling before the blaze, while he basked in the warmth, and filled in his time plucking the remaining birds.

Dan had not yet put in his appearance when Paul decided that the ptarmigans were quite done. He removed them from the fire, and with a strong exercise of self-restraint waited for Dan to join him in the repast. Presently, however, hunger got the better of him.

"There isn't any use waiting for Dan," he finally said to himself. "I simply can't stand it another minute," and he ate one of the birds with a relish beyond anything, he thought, that he had ever before experienced. The temptation to eat the other was very strong but he turned his back upon it, and, lying down, was presently dozing.

How long he had been asleep he did not know, but at length he opened his eyes, suddenly wide awake, with a consciousness that something was watching him. The fire had died to smouldering coals, and he was cold, but fear of the watcher impelled him to remain motionless and still, while he peered into the shadow of the timber.

Presently he discovered in a clump of bushes on the opposite side of the creek a pair of glowing amber-green eyes. They were malicious, piercing eyes, and Paul's heart stood still for a moment. Then he remembered what Dan had often told him: "They ain't nothin' in this country t' be scared of unless you comes on a big pack o' wolves, an'

they's mostly cowards," and his courage returned.

Very cautiously he reached for Dan's rifle, and with exceeding care sighted it upon a spot just between the glistening eyes. Then steadying his nerves, and holding his breath for an instant, he fired.

Simultaneously with the explosion something sprang into the air and then fell back upon the ground. Whatever the thing was, he had hit it.

Highly excited, he dropped the rifle, and regardless of the icy waters forded the creek, dashed up the opposite bank, and without doubt that the animal was quite dead, ran directly in, incautiously, toward the clump of bushes where it had fallen.

Suddenly, when less than ten feet from the bushes, a great snarling, malevolent cat-like beast appeared at the edge of the cover, directly before him.

Paul stopped, stupefied at the unexpected appearance. The animal crouched for a spring. It was too late to retreat. Paul's heart stood still. A cold chill ran up his spine. He had left his rifle at the fire, and was quite defenseless, save for the hunting knife at his belt. He grabbed the knife, and as the beast leaped toward him instinctively threw up his arms to guard his face.

Its fore paws landed squarely upon his shoulders. With one hand he grasped its throat, and with a tremendous, unnatural strength pushed it from him, while with the other hand he slashed blindly with his knife at its body. He could feel its sharp claws tearing his flesh.

Then the earth began to reel, darkness came, and he fell unconscious.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He could feel its sharp claws tearing his flesh]

CHAPTER XII

FACTOR MACTAVISH OF FORT RELIANCE

When Paul opened his eyes he felt very damp and uncomfortable. As his vision cleared he beheld Dan standing over him with his hat full of water, which Dan was undoubtedly about to dash into his face.

"Don't Dan! Don't throw that on me!" he plead weakly. "What you wetting me down that way for?"

"You comin' to all right?" asked Dan. "You fainted, an' I were sousin'

you t' bring you to. I'm thinkin' I better souse you this un. 'T will do no harm."

"Oh, Dan----"

But Paul's protest came too late, and he received the contents of the hat full in his face.

"There," said Dan with satisfaction, "I'm thinkin' that'll be enough, an' bring you to, all right. How you feelin'?"

"All right now." His voice was stronger, but still weak. "That thing 'most killed me, didn't it?"

"You're a long way from dyin' yet, but you were havin' a rare fine fight with th' varmint, an' when you kills un you faints. Feelin'

stronger? I'm thinkin' a bit more water'll be helpin' you, now."

"No! No, Dan!" plead Paul, trying to rise, but still too weak. "Don't throw any more water on me. I'm soaked and freezing with it now."

"Well, maybe you're havin' enough," said Dan, uncertainly. "Dad says th' best thing t' bring a feller around when he gets done up is plenty o' water."

"What kind of an animal was that? When it came leaping at me I thought my time had come."

"'Twere a lynx, an' a wonderful big un, too, an' nice an' fat. He'll make fine eatin'. How'd he come t' fight? I never heard o' one fightin' before. They always runs."

"Why, I shot him, and thought I'd killed him, and when I came over without the rifle he jumped on me."

Dan examined the b.l.o.o.d.y carca.s.s of the great lynx lying by Paul's side.

"There's where your bullet comes," said he, pointing at a furrow along the top of the head. "'T were breakin' th' skin an' stunnin' he. He just comes to, like you're doin' now, when you gets over, an' bein'

sort o' cornered he jumps on you. That's th' way of all beasts.