Part 11 (1/2)
”Hadn't we better wait till tomorrow and bring the heavy rifle?” Connie asked. ”We can't kill a bear with this d.i.n.ky little twenty-two.”
”We ain' need no gun. Me--I cut de good stout club, an' you tak' de ax.
De bear she too mooch sleepy to do no fightin'. Den we git de toboggan an' haul um in. We only 'bout wan half-mile from camp. Tomor' we got plenty bait, we set de marten trap. We skin de bear tonight we save wan whole day.” As he talked, the Indian felled a small birch and trimmed about five feet of its trunk which measured about two inches and a half in thickness. ”Dat fix um good, an' den we cut de t'roat,” he explained, brandis.h.i.+ng the club in the air.
”I don't know,” replied Connie, dubiously. ”Waseche and I have killed several bears, and there was a time or two when a couple of good thirty-forty's came near not being big enough.”
'Merican Joe grinned. ”Dat was grizzlies. I ain' t'ink de grizzly com'
so far from de montaine. Dis leetle black bear, she ain' lak to fight mooch.”
”I hope you're right,” grinned the boy, as he fell to work helping the Indian to trample the snow into good solid footing for a s.p.a.ce of ten feet or more about the airhole. This done, they removed snowshoes and coats and with ax and pole attacked the snow that covered their quarry.
”I feel um!” cried the Indian, as he thrust his pole deep into the snow after five minutes of hard work. ”We wake um up firs', an' when he stick out de head we bang um good.” 'Merican Joe continued to ram his pole into the snow where he had felt the yielding ma.s.s of the bear's body, all the time haranguing the bear in jargon, addressing him as ”cousin,”
and inviting him to come out and be killed, and in the same breath apologizing for the necessity of taking his life.
Then--very suddenly--”cousin” came out! There was a mighty upheaval of snow, a whistling snort, and a mountain of brown fur projected itself into the rapidly gathering dusk. 'Merican Joe struck valiantly with his club at the monstrous head that in the half-light seemed to Connie to measure two feet between the ears. The boy heard the sharp crack of the weapon as it struck the skull, and the next instant he heard the club cras.h.i.+ng through the limbs of a small spruce. The infuriated bear had caught it fairly with a sweep of his giant paw. Then Connie struck with his ax, just as 'Merican Joe, with the bear almost upon him, scrambled into the branches of a tree. The boy's blow fell upon the bear's hip, and with a roar the great brute whirled to meet the new attack as Connie gathered himself to strike again.
Then, a very fortunate thing happened. When 'Merican Joe had removed his snowshoes he had stuck them upright in the snow and hung his coat over them. The figure thus formed caught the bear's attention, and with a lurch he was upon it. There was a crackling of ash bows as the snowshoes were crushed in the ponderous embrace. And, seeing his chance, Connie darted forward, for the momentum of the bear's lurch had carried him on to all fours in the soft snow at the edge of the trampled s.p.a.ce.
As the huge animal struggled, belly deep, the boy brought the bit of his ax down with all his force upon the middle of the brute's spine. The feel of the blow was good as the keen blade sank to the helve. The next instant the ax was jerked from his hands and the boy turned to collide with 'Merican Joe, who had recovered his club and was rus.h.i.+ng in to renew the attack. Both went sprawling upon the trodden snow, and before they could recover their feet the bear was almost upon them. They sprang clear, the Indian waiting with upraised club, but the bear advanced slowly, ripping and tearing at the snow with his huge forepaws with their claws as long as a man's fingers. Down came the Indian's club upon the broad skull, but there was no rearing upward to ward off the blow, and then it was that both saw that the animal was dragging its useless hinder part. Connie's ax had severed the animal's backbone, and so long as they kept out of reach of those terrible forepaws they were safe.
While the Indian continued to belabour the bear's head, Connie managed to slip around behind the animal and recover his ax, after which it was but the work of a few moments to dispatch the huge bear with a few well-directed blows.
It was almost dark when the two stood looking down upon the carca.s.s of the great barren ground grizzly.
”So that's your little black bear that don't like to fight much!”
grinned Connie.
'Merican Joe returned the grin. ”All de tam kin learn somet'ing new.
Nex' tam we dig out de den bear we bring de big gun 'long. Annyhow, we git mor' bait an' dog feed, an' de good meat, an' de bigger skin, an' we git mor', w'at you call, excite!” He placed his foot upon the head of the dead bear. ”Dat too bad we got to kill you, cousin. But Injun an'
white boy got to git de meat to eat, an' de bait to ketch de leetle marten. We mooch oblig' you ain' kill us.”
'Merican Joe's crushed snowshoes and his coat were dug out of the snow, and together the two managed to work the carca.s.s on to its back. The Indian proceeded to build a fire by the light of which he could skin the bear while Connie fastened on his own rackets and hit out for the cabin to procure the toboggan and dogs, and an extra pair of snowshoes.
An hour later he returned, just as 'Merican Joe was stripping the hide from the hind legs. While Connie folded it into a convenient pack, the Indian took the ax and chopped off the bear's head which he proceeded to tie to the branches of a small spruce at the foot of which the animal had been killed.
”What in thunder are you doing?” asked the boy.
'Merican Joe regarded him gravely. ”Mus' hang up de skull right where he git kill,” he answered.
”Why?”
”Cause _Sah-ha-lee Tyee_, w'at you call, de Great Spirit, he com' 'long an' count de bears in de springtime. He count de Injun, too, an' de moose, an' de beaver' an' all de big people. _S'pose_ he ain' fin' dat bear. He ain' know dat bear git kill. He t'ink dat bear ain' wake up yet, or else he hide in de den. If de skull ain' hang up she git cover up wit' leaves, or sink in de swamp, an' _Sah-ha-lee Tyee_ no kin fin'.
But, w'en he see skull hang up, he say: 'De Injun kill de bear an' git meat. Dat good. I sen' um nodder bear.' So de bear always plenty in de Injun country. De white men com' 'long an' kill de bear. Dey ain' hang up de skull--an' by-m-by, w'ere de white man live de bears is all gon'.”
The duty performed to 'Merican Joe's satisfaction, the carca.s.s and skin were loaded on to the toboggan and by the thin light of the little stars they started the dogs and wended their way across the narrow lake to the little cabin in the spruce grove, well satisfied with their first day of trapping.
CHAPTER IX