The Young Alaskans on the Trail, Emerson Hough [tharntype novel english .TXT] 📗

breast-bone, an’ he’ll say, ‘Ah, ha! he’ll been fat goose; bimeby he’ll be good for eat.’ But he’ll know if you watch goose he’ll not get done. So bimeby Wiesacajac he’ll walk off away in the wood for to let those goose get brown in the ashes. This’ll be fine day—beau temps—an’ he’ll be happy, for he’ll got meat in camp. So bimeby he’ll sit down on log an’ look at those sky an’ those wind, an’ maybe he’ll light his pipe, I don’t know, me.

“Now about this tam some red fox he’ll be lie down over those ridge an’ watch Wiesacajac an’ those goose. This fox he’ll be hongree, too, for he’ll ain’t got no goose. He’ll been thief, too, all same like every fox. So he’ll see Wiesacajac walk off in woods, an’ he’ll smell aroun’ an’ he’ll sneak down to the camp where those goose will be with his feet stick out of ashes.

“Those thief of fox he’ll dig up the fat goose of Wiesacajac, an’ tase’ it, an’ find it ver’ good. He’ll ron off in the woods with the goose an’ eat it all up, all ’cept the foots an’ the leg-bones. Then the fox he’ll sneak back to the fire once more, an’ he’ll push the dirt back in the hole, an’ he’ll stick up these foots an’ the leg-bones just like they was before, only there don’t been no goose under those foots now, because he’ll eat up the goose.

“‘Ah, ha!’ says Mr. Fox then, ‘I’m so fat I must go sleep now.’ So he’ll go off in woods a little way an’ he’ll lie down, an’ he’ll go to sleep.

“Bimeby Wiesacajac he’ll look at the sun an’ the wind plenty long, an’ he’ll got more hongree. So he’ll come back to camp an’ look for his goose. He’ll take hol’ of those foots that stick up there, an’ pull them up, but the foots come loose! So he’ll dig in the sand an’ ashes, an’ he’ll not found no goose.

“‘Ah, ha!’ say Wiesacajac then. He’ll put his finger on his nose an’ think. Then he’ll see those track of fox in the sand. ‘Ah, ha!’ he’ll say again. ‘I’ll been rob by those fox. Well, we’ll see about that.’

“Wiesacajac, he’ll follow the trail to where this fox is lie fast asleep; but all fox he’ll sleep with one eye open, so this fox he’ll hear Wiesacajac an’ see him come, an’ he’ll get up an’ ron. But he’ll be so full of goose that inside of hondred yards, maybe feefty yards, Wiesacajac he’ll catch up with him an’ pick him up by the tail.

“‘Now I have you, thief!’ he’ll say to the fox. ‘You’ll stole my goose. Don’t you know that is wrong? I show you now some good manners, me.’

“So Wiesacajac, he’ll carry those fox down to the fire. He’s plenty strong, but he don’t keel those fox. He’s only going to show heem a lesson. So he’ll poke up the fire an’ put on some more wood, then he’ll take the fox by the end of the tail an’ the back of his neck, an’ he’ll hold heem down over the fire till the fire scorch his back an’ make heem smoke. Then the fox he’ll beg, an’ promise not to do that no more.

“‘I suppose maybe you’ll not keep your promise,’ says Wiesacajac, ‘for all foxes they’ll steal an’ lie. But this mark will stay on you so all the people can tell you for a thief when they see you. You must carry it, an’ all your children, so long as there are any foxes of your familee.’

“The fox he’ll cry, an’ he’ll roll on the groun’, but those black mark she’ll stay.

“An’ she’ll stay there till now,” repeated Moise. “An’ all the tam, those fox he’ll be ’shamed for look a man in the face. All the tam you find cross fox, he’ll be black where Wiesacajac hold heem over the fire, with his back down, but the end of his tail will be white, because there is where Wiesacajac had hold of heem on one end, an’ his front will be white, too, same reason, yes, heem. Whatever Wiesacajac did was done because he was wise an’ strong. Since then all cross fox have shown the mark. I have spoken.”

Moise now looked around at his young listeners to see how they liked the story.

“That’s what I call a pretty good story,” said John. “If I had one more trout I believe I could go to bed.”

“Do you know what time it is?” asked Alex, smiling.

“No,” said Rob. “Why, it’s almost midnight,” he added, as he looked at his watch.

“We’ve made a long day of it,” said Alex, “almost too long. We don’t want to be in too big a hurry.”

“How far do you think we’ve come, Alex?” asked Jesse. “It seemed like a long way to me.”

“Well I don’t know exactly, Mr. Jess,” said Alex, “because there are no roads in this country, you see, and we have to guess. But it must have been about noon when we got out of the last lake after we finished fishing. We’ve doubled on the portage, which made that something like a mile, and I suppose took about an hour. We fished about an hour, and it took us about an hour to clear out the little creek and go through a mile or so down to the main river. We’ve been running seven or eight hours pretty steadily. Maybe we’ve come thirty or forty miles, I don’t know.”

“Well, I know I’m tired,” said John, “and I can’t even eat another trout.”

VIII A HUNT FOR BIGHORN

Alex allowed the boys to sleep late next morning, and the sun was shining warmly when at length they turned out of their tent and went down to the river for their morning bath. Heartily as they had eaten the night before, they seemed still hungry enough to enjoy the hearty breakfast which Moise had ready for them at the fire.

“Well, Alex, what’s the programme for to-day?” asked Rob; “are we going on down, or shall we stop for a hunt?”

“Whichever you like,” answered Alex. “We’re maybe getting into heavier water now, so I suppose we ought to be a little more careful about how we run down without prospecting a little.”

“How would it be for some of us to go down along the bank and do a little scouting?” asked John.

“A very good plan,” agreed Alex, “and Moise might do that while we others are doing something else.”

“Oh, you mean about our hunt,” broke in Rob. “Now, we were speaking about bears and sheep. We don’t want to break the game laws, you know.”

“Let me see your map, Mr. Rob,” said Alex. “I told you we’d talk over that after a while.”

“What’s the map got to do with game laws, Alex?”

“A great deal, as I’ll show you. You see, in all this upper country the laws made down at Ottawa and Edmonton govern, just as if we lived right in that country. We keep the game laws the same as any other laws. At the same time, the government is wise, and knows that men in this far-off country have to live on what the country produces. If the people could not kill game when they found it they would all starve. So the law is that there is no restriction on killing game—that is, any kind of game except beaver and buffalo—north of latitude 55°.”

“Well, what’s that got to do with our hunt?” asked Rob.

“I was just going to explain, if you will let me see your map. As near as I can tell by looking at the lines of latitude on it, we must have been just about latitude fifty-five degrees at the place where we started yesterday. But we have been running north very strongly thirty or forty miles. While I can’t tell exactly where we are, I’m very positive that we are at this camp somewhere north of fifty-five degrees. In that case there is no law against our killing what we like, if we let the beaver alone; for of course, the buffalo are all gone from this country long ago.”

“Now, I wouldn’t have thought of that,” said Rob, “and I’m very glad that you have figured it out just that way. We agree with you that a fellow ought to keep the game laws even when he is away from the towns. In some of the States in the earlier days they used to have laws allowing a man to kill meat if he needed it, no matter what time of year. But people killed at all times, until there wasn’t much left to kill.”

“It ought to be a good hunting country here,” went on Alex, “for I don’t think many live here or hunt here.”

“Well,” said Rob, with a superior air, “we don’t much care for black bear. Grizzlies or bighorns—”

“Have you never killed a bighorn?”

“No, none of us ever has. They have plenty of them up in Alaska, and very good ones, and white sheep also, and white goats sometimes, and all sorts of bears and moose and things. We’ve never hunted very much except when we were on Kadiak Island. We can all shoot, though. And we’d like very much to make a hunt here. There isn’t any hurry, anyway.”

“S’pose you’ll got some of those sheep,” ventured Moise, “he’ll be best for eat of anything there is—no meat better in the world than those beeghorn.”

“Well,” said John, “why don’t we start out to get one? This looks like a good country, all right.”

“That suits me,” added Rob. “Jess, do you want to go along?”

Alex looked at Jesse before he answered, and saw that while he was tall for his age, he was rather thin and not so strong as the other boys, being somewhat younger.

“I think Mr. Jess would better stay in camp,” said he. “He can help Moise finish drying his fish, and maybe they can go down and have a look at the rapids from the shore. We others can go over east for a hunt. I’ve a notion that the mountains that way are better.”

“It looks like a long way over,” said Rob. “Can we make it out and back to camp to-day?”

“Hardly; I think we’ll have to lie out at least one night, maybe more, to be sure of getting the sheep.”

“Fine!” said John; “that suits me. We wouldn’t need to take along any tent, just a blanket and a little something to eat—I suppose we could carry enough.” He looked so longingly at Moise’s pots and pans that everybody laughed at him once more.

“All right,” said Alex, “we’ll go.”

The old hunter now busied himself making ready their scant supplies. He took a little bag of flour, with some salt, one or two of the cooked fish which remained, and a small piece of bacon. These he rolled up in a piece of canvas, which he placed on his pack-straps. He asked the boys if they thought they could get on with a single blanket, and when they agreed to this he took Rob’s blanket, folded it, rolled it also in canvas, and tied it all tight with a rope, the ends of his tump-strap sticking out, serving him for his way of packing, which was to put the tump-strap across his head.

“It’s not a very big bundle,” said he. “You young gentlemen need take nothing but your rifles and your ammunition. I don’t need any blanket for a night or so. What little we’ve got will seem heavy enough before we get up there in the hills.”

“Now, Moise, listen,” he added. “You’re to