The Young Voyageurs Part 16

There was no wood in the neighbourhood wherewith to make a fire; but they had sc.r.a.ped the snow from the place over which their tent was pitched, and under it their skins were spread upon the ground. As the tent was a very small one, Marengo's sledge, with the utensils and pemmican bags, was always left outside close by the opening. Marengo himself slept there, and that was considered sufficient to secure all these things from wolves, or any other creatures that might be prowling about.

On the evening in question, the sledge was in its usual place--the dog having been taken from it--and as our voyageurs had not yet had their supper, the pemmican bags were lying loosely about, one or two of them being open. There was a small rivulet at the foot of the ridge--some two hundred paces distant--and Basil and Francois had gone down to it to get water. One of them took the axe to break the ice with, while the other carried a vessel. On arriving near the bank of the rivulet, the attention of the boys was attracted to a singular appearance upon the snow. A fresh shower had fallen that morning, and the surface was still soft, and very smooth. Upon this they observed double lines of little dots, running in different directions, which, upon close inspection, appeared to be the tracks of some animal. At first, Basil and Francois could hardly believe them to be such, the tracks were so very small.

They had never seen so small ones before--those of a mouse being quite double the size. But when they looked more closely at them, the boys could distinguish the marks of five little toes with claws upon them, which left no doubt upon their minds that some living creature, and that a very diminutive one, must have pa.s.sed over the spot. Indeed, had the snow not been both fine-grained and soft, the feet of such a creature could not have made any impression upon it.

The boys stopped and looked around, thinking they might see the animal itself. There was a wide circle of snow around them, and its surface was smooth and level; but not a speck upon it betrayed the presence of any creature.

"Perhaps it was a bird," said Francois, "and has taken flight."

"I think not," rejoined Basil. "They are not the tracks of a bird. It is some animal that has gone under the snow, I fancy."

"But I see no hole," said Francois, "where even a beetle could have gone down. Let us look for one."

At Francois' suggestion, they walked on following one of the dotted lines. Presently they came to a place, where a stalk of long gra.s.s stood up through the snow--its seedless panicle just appearing above the surface. Round this stalk a little hole had been formed--partly by the melting of the snow, and partly by the action of the wind upon the panicle--and into this hole the tracks led. It was evident that the animal, whatever it was, must have gone down the culm of the gra.s.s in making its descent from the surface of the snow! They now observed another track going from the hole in an opposite direction, which showed that the creature had climbed up in the same way. Curious to know what it might have been, the boys hailed Lucien and Norman, telling them to come down. These, followed by Marengo, soon arrived upon the spot.

When Lucien saw the tracks, he p.r.o.nounced them at once to be those of the little shrew-mouse (_Sorex parvus_), the smallest of all the quadrupeds of America. Several of them had evidently been out upon the snow--as there were other dotted lines--and the tops of many stalks of gra.s.s were seen above the surface, each of which had formed a little hole around it, by which the mice were enabled to get up and down.

Norman, who had seen these little animals before, cautioned his companions to remain quiet awhile, and perhaps some of them might come to the surface. They all stopped therefore, and stood some time without moving, or speaking to one another. Presently, a little head not much bigger than a pea was seen peeping up, and then a body followed, which in size did not exceed that of a large gooseberry! To this a tail was suspended, just one inch in length, of a square shape, and tapering from root to point, like that of any other mouse. The little creature was covered with a close smooth fur, of a clove-brown colour above, but more yellowish upon the belly and sides; and was certainly, as it sat upon the even surface of the snow, the most diminutive and oddest-looking quadruped that any of the party had ever beheld.

They were just whispering to one another what means they should use to capture it, when Marengo, whom Basil had been holding quiet, all at once uttered a loud bay; and, springing out of the hands of his master, galloped off towards the camp. All of them looked after, wondering what had started the dog; but his strange behaviour was at once explained, and to their consternation. Around the tent, and close to its entrance, several large wolves were seen. They were leaping about hurriedly, and worrying some objects that lay upon the ground. What these objects were was too plain. They were _the bags of pemmican_! Part of their contents was seen strewed over the snow, and part was already in the stomachs of the wolves.

The boys uttered a simultaneous shout, and ran forward. Marengo was by this time among the wolves, and had set fiercely upon one of them. Had his masters not been at hand, the fierce brutes would soon have settled the account with Marengo. But the former were now close by, and the wolves, seeing them, ran off; but, to the consternation of the boys, each of them carried off a bag of the pemmican in his mouth with as much lightness and speed as if nothing enc.u.mbered them!

"We are lost!" cried Norman, in a voice of terror. "Our provisions are gone!--all gone!"

It was true. The next moment the wolves disappeared over the summit of the ridge; and although each of the boys had seized his gun, and ran after, the pursuit proved an idle one. Not a wolf was overtaken.

Scarce a sc.r.a.p of the pemmican had been left--only some fragments that had been gnawed by the ravenous brutes, and scattered over the snow.

That night our travellers went to bed supperless; and, what with hunger, and the depression of spirits caused by this incident, one and all of them kept awake nearly the whole of the night.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

They left their skin-couch at an early hour, close after daybreak.

Hunger and anxiety drove them out of their tent. Not a morsel of anything for breakfast! They looked abroad over the country, in order, if possible, to descry some living creature. None could be seen-- nothing but the wilderness waste of snow, with here and there the side of a steep hill, or a rock showing cold and bleak. Even the wolves that had robbed them were no longer to be seen, as if these creatures knew that they had got all that was worth having, and had now taken themselves off to hunt for plunder elsewhere.

The situation of our travellers was really one of extreme peril, although it may be difficult for you, young reader, to conceive why it should be so. They, however, knew it well. They knew that they might travel for days through that inhospitable region, without falling in with anything that would make a single meal for them. But less time than that would suffice to starve them all. Already they felt the pangs of hunger--for they had not eaten since their breakfast of the preceding day, the wolves having interrupted their preparations for dinner.

It was of no use remaining where they were; so, striking their tent once more, they travelled forward. It was but poor consolation to them that they travelled much lighter than before. They had nothing to carry but their guns, and these they had got ready for work--so that their journey partook somewhat of the character of a hunting excursion. They did not even follow a direct course, but occasionally turned to one side or the other, wherever a clump of willows, or any other roughness on the ground, looked like it might be the shelter of game. But during that whole day--although they travelled from near sunrise to sunset--not a living thing was seen; and for the second night they went supperless to bed.

A man will bear hunger for many days--some more, some less--without actually dying of it; but at no period will his sufferings be greater than during the third or fourth day. He will grow more feeble afterwards, but the pain which he endures will not be greater.

On the third day the sufferings of our party were extreme. They began to chew pieces of their skin-tent and blankets; but although this took the sharp edge off their appet.i.tes, it added nothing to their strength; and they still craved for food, and grew feebler.

To use a poetical phrase, Marengo now became the "cynosure of every eye." Marengo was not very fat. The sledge and short rations had thinned him down, and his ribs could be easily traced. Although the boys, and Basil in particular, would have suffered much before sacrificing him, yet starvation will reconcile a man to part with his best friend. In spite of their friendship for Marengo, his masters could not help scanning him from time to time with hungry looks.

Marengo was an old dog, and, no doubt, as tough as a piece of tan-leather; but their appet.i.tes were made up for anything.

It was near midday. They had started early, as on the day before. They were trudging wearily along, and making but little progress. Marengo was struggling with his sledge, feeble as any of the party. Basil saw that the eyes of his companions were from time to time bent upon the dog; and though none of them said anything, he understood the thoughts that were pa.s.sing within them. He knew that none of them wished to propose it--as Basil was the real master of Marengo--but their glances were sufficiently intelligible to him. He looked at the downcast countenance of the once merry Francois,--at the serious air of Norman-- at the wan cheek and sunken eye of Lucien, whom Basil dearly loved. He hesitated no longer. His duty to his companions at once overcame his affection for his faithful dog.

"We must kill him!" said he, suddenly stopping, and pointing to Marengo.

The rest halted.

"I fear there's no help for it," said Norman, turning his face in every direction, and sweeping the surface of the snow with hopeless glances.

Francois also a.s.sented to the proposal.

"Let us make a condition," suggested Lucien; "I for one could walk five miles farther." And as Lucien said this, he made an effort to stand erect, and look strong and brave; but Basil knew it was an effort of _generosity_.

"No," said he,--"no, dear Luce. You are done up. We must kill the dog!"

"Nonsense, Basil, you mistake," replied the other; "I a.s.sure you I am far from being done up. I could go much farther yet. Stay!" continued he, pointing ahead; "you see yonder rocks? They are about three miles off, I should think. They lie directly in our course. Well, now, let us agree to this condition. Let us give poor Marengo a chance for his life. If we find nothing before reaching those rocks, why then--"

And Lucien, seeing Marengo gazing up in his face, left the sentence unfinished. The poor brute looked up at all of them as though he understood every word that they were saying; and his mute appeal, had it been necessary, would not have been thrown away. But it did not require that to get him the proposed respite. All agreed willingly with Lucien's proposition; and, shouldering their pieces, the party moved on.

Lucien had purposely understated the distance to the rocks. It was five, instead of three miles; and some of them made it full ten, as they were determined Marengo should have the benefit of every chance. They deployed like skirmishers; and not a brake or brush that lay to the right or left of the path but was visited and beaten by one or other of them. Their diligence was to no purpose. After two hours' weary work, they arrived among the rocks, having seen not a trace of either quadruped or bird.

"Come!" cried Lucien in his now feeble voice, still trying to look cheerful, "we must pa.s.s through them. There is a chance yet. Let him have fair play. The rocks were to be the limit, but it was not stated what part of them. Let us pa.s.s through to the other side--they do not extend far."

Encouraged by the words of Lucien, the party entered among the rocks, moving on separate paths. They had gone only a few paces, when a shout from Norman caused the rest to look to him for an explanation. No animal was in sight. Had he seen any? No; but something that gratified him certainly, for his voice and manner expressed it.

"What is it?" inquired the others, all speaking at the same time.

"_Tripe de roche_!" answered he.

"_Tripe de roche_?"

"Yes," replied Norman, "look there!" and he pointed to one of the rocks directly ahead of them, at the same time moving forward to it. The others hastened up after. On reaching the rock, they saw what Norman had meant by the words _tripe de roche_ (rock-tripe). It was a black, hard, crumply substance, that nearly covered the surface of the rock, and was evidently of a vegetable nature. Lucien knew what it was as well as Norman, and joy had expressed itself upon his pale cheeks at the sight. As for Basil and Francois they only stood waiting an explanation, and wondering what value a quant.i.ty of "rock moss," as they deemed it, could be to persons in their condition. Lucien soon informed them that it was not a "moss," but a "lichen," and of that celebrated species which will sustain human life. It was the _Gyrophora_. Norman confirmed Lucien's statement, and furthermore affirmed, that not only the Indians and Esquimaux, but also parties of voyageurs, had often subsisted upon it for days, when they would otherwise have starved.

There are many species,--not less than five or six. All of them possess nutritive properties, but only one is a palatable food--the _Gyrophora vellea_ of botanists. Unfortunately, this was not the sort which our voyageurs had happened upon, as it grows only upon rocks shaded by woods, and is rarely met with in the open barrens. The one, however, which Norman had discovered was the "next best," and they were all glad at finding even that.

The first thing to be thought of was to collect it, and all four set to peeling and sc.r.a.ping it from the rocks. The next thought was to make it ready for eating. Here a new difficulty stared them in the face. The _tripe de roche_ had to be boiled,--it could not be eaten else,--and where was the fire? where was the wood to make one? Not a stick was to be seen. They had not met with a tree during all that day's journey!

They were now as badly off as ever. The _tripe de roche_ would be of no more use to them than so much dry gra.s.s. What could they do with it?

In the midst of their suspense, one of them thought of the sledge-- Marengo's sledge. That would make a fire, but a very small one. It might do to cook a single meal. Even that was better than none.

Marengo was not going to object to the arrangement. He looked quite willing to part with the sledge. But a few hours before, it came near being used to cook Marengo himself. He was not aware of that, perhaps, but no matter. All agreed that the sledge must be broken up, and converted into firewood.

They were about taking it to pieces, and had already "unhitched" Marengo from it, when Basil, who had walked to the other side of the rocky jumble, cried back to them to desist. He had espied some willows at no great distance. Out of these a fire could be made. The sledge, therefore, was let alone for the present. Basil and Francois immediately started for the willows, while Norman and Lucien remained upon the spot to prepare the "tripe" for the pot.

In a short time the former parties returned with two large bundles of willows, and the fire was kindled. The _tripe de roche_, with some snow--for there was no water near--was put into the pot, and the latter hung over the blaze.

After boiling for nearly an hour, the lichen became reduced to a soft gummy pulp, and Norman thickened the mess to his taste by putting in more snow, or more of the "tripe," as it seemed to require it. The pot was then taken from the fire, and all four greedily ate of its contents.

It was far from being palatable, and had a clammy "feel" in the mouth, something like sago; but none of the party was in any way either dainty or fastidious just at that time, and they soon consumed all that had been cooked. It did not satisfy the appet.i.te, though it filled the stomach, and made their situation less painful to bear.

Norman informed them that it was much better when cooked with a little meat, so as to make broth. This Norman's companions could easily credit, but where was the meat to come from? The Indians prefer the _tripe de roche_ when prepared along with the roe of fish, or when boiled in fish liquor.

Our weary voyageurs resolved to remain among the rocks for that night at least; and with this intent they put up their little tent. They did not kindle any fire, as the willows were scarce, and there would be barely enough to make one or two more boilings of the rock-tripe. They spread their skins within the tent, and creeping in, kept one another as warm as they could until morning.