The Young Alaskans on the Trail by Emerson Hough (i want to read a book TXT) 📕

“for the theory of our Company is that all a man needs to eat is meat and fish. But just to be in fashion, we raise a few of these things in our garden, as you may see. When you are at Vermilion, moreover, although that is three hundred and fifty miles north from here, you’ll see all sorts of grain and every vegetable you ever heard of growing as well as they do twelve or fifteen hundred miles south of here.”

“It’s a wonderful country, sir,” said Rob. “I don’t blame Alex and Moise for calling this the Land of Plenty.”

“Moise said that the old war-trail over from the Little Slave country used to end about here,” ventured John.

The factor smiled, and admitted that such was once said to have been the case.

“Those days are gone, though, my young friend,” said he. “There’s a new invasion, which we think may unsettle our old ways as much as the invasion of the Crees did those of the Stoneys and Beavers long ago. I mean the invasion of the wagon-trains of farmers.”

“Yes,” said Rob, “Alex told us we’d have to go to the Liard River pretty soon, if we wanted any moose or bear; but anyhow, we’re here in time, and we want to thank you for helping us have such a pleasant trip. We’re going to enjoy the run down the river, I’m sure.”

XXVIII STEAMBOATING IN THE FAR NORTH

Captain Saunders finished the operation of getting wood for the Peace River by ten o’clock of the next morning, and as the steamer once more came alongside the steep bank at the landing the hoarse note of her whistles notified every one to get ready for the journey down the stream. The boys, who had passed the night in their tent with Alex—Moise having gone to his own tepee for the night—now began to bestir themselves before going aboard the steamer.

“What are we going to do with all our things, Alex?” asked Rob.

“How do you mean, sir?”

“Why, our tent and the skins and trophies and blankets and everything—we won’t need them on board the boat, will we?”

“No, sir, and the best way will be to leave them here.”

“What! In our tent, with no one to care for them? You know, Moise is going with us, as I understand it.”

“Everything will be perfectly safe right there in the tent, if only you tie the flaps so the dogs can’t get in,” answered Alex. “You see, it’s only white men that steal in this country—the Injuns and breeds won’t do that. Until the Klondike pilgrims came through here we didn’t know what theft was. I can answer for these people here. Everything you leave will be perfectly safe, and, as you say, it will be less bother than to take this stuff along on the boat.”

Rob motioned to his companions, and they stepped aside for a little while.

“What are we going to do about the stuff we’ve got left over, fellows?” asked he. “Of course, we’ve got to get down by wagon as far as Little Slave, and we’ll need grub enough, if Uncle Dick hasn’t got it, to last us two or three days. But we won’t boat, and we’ve got quite a lot of supplies which I think we had better give to Moise—they have to charge pretty good prices for everything they sell at the store up here, and maybe Moise will like this stuff.”

“That suits me,” said John, “and I think it would be a good idea. Give Moise all the meat and such supplies as we don’t need going out.”

“And then, how about the boats?”

“Well, old Picheu sold us the dugout, and I don’t suppose he’ll ever get down here any more, and we certainly couldn’t take it out with us. I’m in favor of making Moise a present of that. He seems to like it pretty well.”

“A good idea,” said Rob. “And how about the Jaybird? Wouldn’t it be fine to give that to Alex!”

Both the other boys thought this would be a good idea, and they accordingly proposed these plans to Alex before they went aboard the steamer.

The old hunter smiled with great pleasure at their generosity. “I don’t want to rob you young men,” said he, “and without doubt you could sell both of those boats here if you liked. But if you want us to keep them, they will be of great value to us. Moise hunts up and down the river all the time, and can use the dugout. I live on Little Slave, and hunt miles below here, but I have plenty of friends with wagons, and they’ll take the Jaybird across for me. I’ll keep her as long as she lasts, and be very glad indeed.”

“Well, then,” said Rob, “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t go aboard. I’m almost sorry, too, because it seems to me as though we were pretty near to the end of our trip now.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said the old hunter to him. “Some of the best bear country on this river is below this point, and unless I am very much mistaken, you will probably see a dozen or two bear between here and Vermilion.”

On board the steamboat the boys found a long table spread with clean linen, comfortable bunks with linen sheets, something they had not seen for a long time, and a general air of shipshapeness which did not seem to comport with a country so wild and remote as this. Each was assigned to a room, where he distributed his belongings, and soon they were all settled down comfortably, Alex and Moise also having rooms given to them, according to the instructions which Uncle Dick had sent up to the Company.

During the last few minutes before the mooring-lines of the boat were cast loose all the party stood along the rail watching the breed deck-hands carrying aboard the remainder of the boat’s cargo. Rob expressed the greatest surprise at the enormous loads which these men carried easily from the storehouse down the slippery bank and up the steep gang-plank. “I didn’t think such strong men lived anywhere in the world,” said he. “I never saw anything like it!”

“Yes,” said Alex, “there are some pretty good men on the river, that’s true. The man who couldn’t shoulder three hundred pounds and get it aboard would be back of the first rank.”

“Three hundred pounds!” said Rob. “That’s pretty heavy, isn’t it?”

“Non! Non!” broke in Moise. “She’s no heavy. On the trail those man he’ll take three packets, two hundred seventy poun’, an’ he’ll trot all same dog—we’ll both told you that before. My onkle, Billy Loutit, he’ll carry seex hondred poun’ one tam up a heell long tam. He’ll take barrel of pork an’ ron on the bank all same deer.”

Rob turned a questioning glance on Alex, who nodded confirmation. “Men have been known to carry four or five hundred pounds considerable distances on the portage,” said he. “It isn’t best for them, but they’re always rivaling one another in these feats of strength. Saunders here, the captain, used to carry five hundred pounds in his day—all the salt pork and boxes you could rake up on top of him. You see this is a country of large distances and the seasons are short. You talk about ‘hustling’ down in the cities, but I suppose there never was a business carried on which ‘hustled’ as long and hard as the old fur trade a hundred years ago. That’s where these men came from—from fathers and grandfathers who were brought up in the work.”

At last the steamer cast loose her mooring-lines and stood off for midstream with a final roar of her whistles. A row of Indians and breeds along the bank again gave the salute of the north with a volley of rifle-fire. They were off for the last lap of their long journey down the great river, this time under somewhat different circumstances from those under which they had begun their journey.

The boys rapidly explored the steamboat, and found her a comfortable side-wheeler, especially built for this river work, with powerful engines and abundance of room on her lower deck for heavy cargo. Her cabin-deck provided good accommodations for passengers, and, all in all, she was quite a wonderful vessel for that far-off country, in their belief.

“I found something down below,” said John, coming up the companion-stair after a time.

“What’s that?” asked Jesse.

“Bear hide nailed on the side of the boat, by the wood-pile below. The engineer killed it a week ago up the river. About every one on the boat has a rifle, and they say they get bears every trip. I think we had better have our guns ready all the time. They say that old Showan, the pilot in the pilot-house up above, only keeps his job on this boat because he gets such fine bear hunting all the time.”

“Well, he’ll have to beat us,” said Rob, stoutly.

“Alex,” inquired Jesse, after a time, “how many bear did you ever see on this river in one day?”

“I wouldn’t like to say,” answered Alex, “for we don’t always count them. I’m told that one of our passengers counted twenty-eight in one afternoon right on this part of the river where we are now. I’ve often seen a dozen a day, I should say.”

“You’re joking about that, Alex!” said Rob.

“Wait and see—I may show you pretty soon,” was the answer.

The boys, always ready enough when there was game to be seen, secured their rifles and took their stand at the front rail of the cabin-deck, ready for anything which might appear.

“I don’t see how you can shoot off this boat,” said Jesse, trying to sight his rifle. “It wobbles all the time when the engine goes.”

Alex gave him a little advice. “I think you’ll find it better to stand with your feet pretty close together,” said he, “and keep your hands as close together as you can on your rifle, too. Then, when you catch sight of your mark as you swing by, pull, and don’t try to hold dead on.”

For some time they saw nothing, and, leaning their rifles against the cabin walls, were talking about something else, when all at once they heard the whistle of the steamer boom out above them. At about the same time, one of the deck-hands at the bow deck below picked up a piece of plank and began to beat loudly with it upon the side structure of the boat.

“What’s the matter?” asked Rob. “Has everybody gone crazy, Alex?”

“No; they’re just trying to beat up the game,” said Alex, smiling. “You see that island below? It nearly always has bears feeding on it, where the berries are thick. When the boat comes down above them the men try to scare the bears out into the river. Just wait a minute, and perhaps you’ll see some of the strangest bear hunting you ever heard of in your life.”

Almost as he spoke they all heard the crack of a rifle from the pilot-house above them, and saw the spit of a bullet on the water many hundreds of yards below them.

“I see him,” said Rob, “I see him—there he goes! Look at that little ripple on the water.”

“Yes,” said Alex, quietly, “there was one on the island, as I supposed there would be. He is swimming off now for the mainland. Too far yet, I should say. Just take your time, and let Showan waste his ammunition.”

It was all the boys could do to hold their fire, but presently, since almost every one else on the boat began to shoot, Alex signaled to his young charges to open up their battery. He