Three Boys in the Wild North Land by Egerton Ryerson Young (inspirational books to read .txt) 📕

dead ones. Wolves are most treacherous brutes, and sometimes badly wounded ones will feign to be dead when very far from it. By doing this they hope to escape the extra bullet or fatal blow of the axe that would quickly finish them. Then when the hunters are off their guard, or night comes on, they hope to be able to skulk away."

This cunning feigning of death when wounded or captured is not confined to wolves. There are several other animals that often try to play "possum" in this manner.

This warning advice of the old Indian did not come too soon, and fortunate indeed it was for one of the party.

The skins of some fur-bearing animals are not considered _prime_ when they are killed in the summer months; the bitter cold of winter very much thickens and improves the fur. However, sometimes the bears and wolves are almost as good then as in the colder months, and bring nearly as high a price in some foreign markets. As soon as the work of killing the wounded ones was apparently over, Mr Ross began feeling the fur of them as they lay around, ere the Indians commenced the work of skinning them. To the boys, who were closely following him, he explained the difference between what they called in the fur trade a _prime_ skin and one of inferior value. After several had been tested in this way, and all signs of movements on the part of any of the wolves had ceased, they happened to come to one very large fellow, settled out flat on his belly, apparently stone dead.

"Here is the finest one we have seen thus far," said Mr Ross, as he stooped down and began pulling at his dark grey fur, while the boys stood around with their guns held by the barrels in their hands with the butt resting on the ground.

While listening to Mr Ross's explanations in reference to the different grades of skins, Sam's sharp eyes fancied they detected a slight quiver in the eyelids of the fierce brute, that was apparently unconscious of the thorough way in which Mr Ross was pulling his fur and testing it in various places. Not wishing to be laughed at, Sam said nothing about his suspicions that life was still there, but he nevertheless, without attracting attention, so changed the position of his loaded gun that it would not take him long to fire if necessity arose. And very soon the occasion came. As Mr Ross moved around to the front of the animal he stooped down to feel the thickness of the fur that grows between the short ears. No sooner had he done this than with the fury of a demon the wolf sprang up at him, and made a desperate attempt to seize him by the throat.

Mr Ross was completely thrown off his guard, but fortunately as the brute sprang at him he threw up his arm, and thus saved his throat. But the arm was pierced by the sharp teeth, that seemed to penetrate through the clothing and flesh to the very bone. However, that was his last spring and his last bite, for before even Mustagan or anyone else could seize a weapon the report of Sam's gun rang out, and the wolf fell, dead enough this time. Sam had put the muzzle within a yard of his side, and the charge had fairly torn its way through him.

So savage had been the attack, and so viciously had the wolf fastened onto the arm of Mr Ross, that, when the brute fell over dead, the jaws remained set with the teeth in the flesh, and so Mr Ross fell or was dragged to the ground by the weight of the animal. Mustagan and the others had to use the handle of an axe to force open the jaws before the wounded arm could be released.

"Well done, Sam," was the chorus that rang out from all. After Mr Ross's arm had been stripped, and some decoction of Indian herbs, which were quickly gathered, had been applied, Sam told of his suspicions when the eyelids quivered, and of his precaution in getting his gun ready. Of course it would have been better if he had mentioned it at the time, but he feared to be laughed at, and he said that he thought at the time that perhaps the wolf's eyelids had the same habit as a snake's tail, of moving for some time after the animal is dead.

The dead wolf was examined for other wounds, and found to be shot through the body, behind the ribs, where no vital organ had been touched. This shot had given it a momentary paralysis, which had caused it to drop so flat upon the ground. The Indians' idea was that it recovered itself while they were all around it, and so it cunningly lay still, hoping to get away when they left, but Mr Ross's handling was too much of an insult to be ignored, and so it suddenly sprang at him as described.

Of course this wounded arm must be promptly attended to more thoroughly than it could be on this wild spot, and so every Indian was set to work to skin the wolves, and then the home trip began.

Three Boys in the Wild North Land--by Egerton Ryerson Young


CHAPTER TEN.

ROMANTIC COURTSHIP--THE HAPPY FAMILY--A CANOE PICNIC--MUSTAGAN--A PROWLING BEAR--A WOMAN'S SHOT.

When the full details of the battle with the wolves came out, and the fact of the prominent part that Sam had played in the rescue of Mr Ross, his family were at first very much excited at his narrow escape, and then full of congratulations for Sam for his shrewdness, and the promptitude with which he acted.

We have as yet said but little about this interesting family, and so we will use some of the time while Mr Ross is recovering from his wounds in giving a few details which we are sure will be most interesting, as some of them partake most decidedly of the romantic.

Mr Ross, like many a Hudson Bay official, was rather late in life in choosing his wife. His busy life in the service, where on each promotion he was removed from one post to another, made it almost impossible to set up a home. When he decided to do so his plan was very romantic. In those remote, lonely regions there are not many white families from which the young gentlemen in the service can select wives. The result is, many of them marry native women, or the daughters of mixed marriages contracted by the older officials. These women make excellent wives and mothers, and, being ambitious to learn, they often become as clever and bright as their white sisters, to many of whom they are superior in personal appearance. Into many a cozy home can the adventurous tourist go, and never would he dream that the stately, refined, cultured woman at the head of the home, honoured by her husband and beloved by her children, if not of pure Indian blood, was at least the daughter or granddaughter of a pure Indian.

Very romantic is the story of Mr Ross's love adventure, and here it is given for the first time. Long years before this, when Mr Ross was comparatively a young man, he saw in one of the Indian villages a little dark-eyed native girl, who looked to him as beautiful as a poet's dream. Although she was only ten or twelve years old, and he approaching thirty, he fell desperately in love with her, and said she must yet be his wife. He knew her language, and soon found that the bright and beautiful child was willing some time in the future to be his bride.

So it was arranged that she should be sent to the old land to be educated. Fortunately good Bishop Anderson was returning to England in connection with his work in the Red River Settlement, going by the Hudson Bay Company's ship. Wenonah was placed in charge of his family on the voyage, and at the journey's end was sent to a first-class school, called "The Nest." Here at Mr Ross's expense she was kept for several years, until she was not only highly educated as a student, but loving, interested ladies taught her, in their kindness, the things essential for a good housekeeper to know.

When she was about twenty years of age she returned to the Hudson Bay territories, and was married by the missionary to Mr Ross, who had so well-earned the skillful, loving wife she ever proved to be. Over twenty years of wedded life had been theirs before Mr Ross retired from the service, and several more had passed ere our story opened. Two sons were away from home as clerks in the company's service at some remote stations similar to those in which most of the officials had begun their apprenticeship.

At home were two bright girls about ten and eight years of age, and a younger brother hardly six, whose name was Roderick. The names of the girls were Minnehaha and Wenonah. A delightful home was theirs, even if in a place so remote from civilisation. Mrs Ross had devoted much of her time to the education of her children. The house was furnished with a splendid library, which Mr Ross himself had gathered with a great deal of care. For music, the piano and harp were their favourite instruments, and several members of the family were able to play exceedingly well. So well cultured were they that they would be considered a well-educated and intellectual family in any land.

There was for a time some anxiety about the wounds which Mr Ross had received when the wolf so savagely sprang at him. However, he was under the careful treatment of Memotas, the Christian Indian doctor, whose fame was in all the land, not only for his marvellous skill, but for his noble, upright character.

During the days of Mr Ross's recovery, when it was thought best for him to keep quiet, so that there might be the more rapid recovery, there were no long excursions made by the boys. The fact was, they had been so surfeited with excitement that they were quite contented to remain at Sagasta-weekee and revel in its library, where they found many an interesting volume.

Of course this did not mean that they were not much out in the canoes and among the wigwams of the Indians, who were camped about on the various points within easy reaching distances. The natives were always delighted to see the boys, and utilised what little English they possessed in order to impart to them as much information as possible. The visits to Big Tom and Mustagan were always a great pleasure. As Mustagan talked English they were not obliged to have an interpreter, and so enjoyed his company very much, and were always delighted when they could get him talking on his arctic adventures and narrow escapes in polar regions. He was a man with a marvellous history, as he had been employed in no less than five arctic expeditions. He was with Sir John Richardson and Dr Ray on their desperate expeditions, when they so courageously and persistently endeavoured to make the sullen North reveal the story of the destruction of Sir John Franklin and his gallant comrades. Some of his wonderful adventures we must have from