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diff --git a/old/10977-8.txt b/old/10977-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e45da1d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10977-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6199 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Grizzly King, by James Oliver Curwood, +Illustrated by Frank B. Hoffman + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Grizzly King + +Author: James Oliver Curwood + +Release Date: February 7, 2004 [eBook #10977] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRIZZLY KING*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Andrea Ball, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 10977-h.htm or 10977-h.zip: + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/9/7/10977/10977-h/10977-h.htm) + or + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/9/7/10977/10977-h.zip) + + + + + +THE GRIZZLY KING + +A ROMANCE OF THE WILD + +BY + +JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD + +1918 + +ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK B. HOFFMAN + + + + + + +[Illustration: "As Thor had more than once come into contact with +porcupine quills, he hesitated."] + + + + +To +MY BOY + + + + +PREFACE + + +It is with something like a confession that I offer this second of my +nature books to the public--a confession, and a hope; the confession of one +who for years hunted and killed before he learned that the wild offered a +more thrilling sport than slaughter--and the hope that what I have written +may make others feel and understand that the greatest thrill of the hunt is +not in killing, but in letting live. It is true that in the great open +spaces one must kill to live; one must have meat, and meat is life. But +killing for food is not the lust of slaughter; it is not the lust which +always recalls to me that day in the British Columbia mountains when, in +less than two hours, I killed four grizzlies on a mountain slide--a +destruction of possibly a hundred and twenty years of life in a hundred and +twenty minutes. And that is only one instance of many in which I now regard +myself as having been almost a criminal--for killing for the excitement of +killing can be little less than murder. In their small way my animal books +are the reparation I am now striving to make, and it has been my earnest +desire to make them not only of romantic interest, but reliable in their +fact. As in human life, there are tragedy, and humour, and pathos in the +life of the wild; there are facts of tremendous interest, real happenings +and real lives to be written about, and very small necessity for one to +draw on imagination. In "Kazan" I tried to give the reader a picture of my +years of experience among the wild sledge dogs of the North. In "The +Grizzly" I have scrupulously adhered to facts as I have found them in the +lives of the wild creatures of which I have written. Little Muskwa was with +me all that summer and autumn in the Canadian Rockies. Pipoonaskoos is +buried in the Firepan Range country, with a slab over his head, just like a +white man. The two grizzly cubs we dug out on the Athabasca are dead. And +Thor still lives, for his range is in a country where no hunters go--and +when at last the opportunity came we did not kill him. This year (in July +of 1916) I am going back into the country of Thor and Muskwa. I think I +would know Thor if I saw him again, for he was a monster full-grown. But +in two years Muskwa had grown from cubhood into full bearhood. And yet I +believe that Muskwa would know me should we chance to meet again. I like to +think that he has not forgotten the sugar, and the scores of times he +cuddled up close to me at night, and the hunts we had together after roots +and berries, and the sham fights with which we amused ourselves so often in +camp. But, after all, perhaps he would not forgive me for that last day +when we ran away from him so hard--leaving him alone to his freedom in the +mountains. + +JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD. + +Owosso, Michigan, +May 5, 1916. + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"As Thor had more than once come into contact with porcupine quills, he +hesitated." + +"Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, swung a little +to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still like a huge +ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done." + +"They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look +at every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter +of a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation and stopped." + +"'Come on!' he cried. 'The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our +grizzly!'" + + + + +THE GRIZZLY KING + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + + +With the silence and immobility of a great reddish-tinted, rock, Thor stood +for many minutes looking out over his domain. He could not see far, for, +like all grizzlies, his eyes were small and far apart, and his vision was +bad. At a distance of a third or a half a mile he could make out a goat or +a mountain sheep, but beyond that his world was a vast sun-filled or +night-darkened mystery through which he ranged mostly by the guidance of +sound and smell. + +It was the sense of smell that held him still and motionless now. Up out of +the valley a scent had come to his nostrils that he had never smelled +before. It was something that did not belong there, and it stirred him +strangely. Vainly his slow-working brute mind struggled to comprehend it. +It was not caribou, for he had killed many caribou; it was not goat; it +was not sheep; and it was not the smell of the fat and lazy whistlers +sunning themselves on the rocks, for he had eaten hundreds of whistlers. It +was a scent that did not enrage him, and neither did it frighten him. He +was curious, and yet he did not go down to seek it out. Caution held him +back. + +If Thor could have seen distinctly for a mile, or two miles, his eyes would +have discovered even less than the wind brought to him from down the +valley. He stood at the edge of a little plain, with the valley an eighth +of a mile below him, and the break over which he had come that afternoon an +eighth of a mile above him. The plain was very much like a cup, perhaps an +acre in extent, in the green slope of the mountain. It was covered with +rich, soft grass and June flowers, mountain violets and patches of +forget-me-nots, and wild asters and hyacinths, and in the centre of it was +a fifty-foot spatter of soft mud which Thor visited frequently when his +feet became rock-sore. + +To the east and the west and the north of him spread out the wonderful +panorama of the Canadian Rockies, softened in the golden sunshine of a June +afternoon. + +From up and down the valley, from the breaks between the peaks, and from +the little gullies cleft in shale and rock that crept up to the snow-lines +came a soft and droning murmur. It was the music of running water. That +music was always in the air, for the rivers, the creeks, and the tiny +streams gushing down from the snow that lay eternally up near the clouds +were never still. + +There were sweet perfumes as well as music in the air. June and July--the +last of spring and the first of summer in the northern mountains--were +commingling. The earth was bursting with green; the early flowers were +turning the sunny slopes into coloured splashes of red and white and +purple, and everything that had life was singing--the fat whistlers on +their rocks, the pompous little gophers on their mounds, the big bumblebees +that buzzed from flower to flower, the hawks in the valley, and the eagles +over the peaks. Even Thor was singing in his way, for as he had paddled +through the soft mud a few minutes before he had rumbled curiously deep +down in his great chest. It was not a growl or a roar or a snarl; it was +the noise he made when he was contented. It was his song. + +And now, for some mysterious reason, there had suddenly come a change in +this wonderful day for him. Motionless he still sniffed the wind. It +puzzled him. It disquieted him without alarming him. To the new and strange +smell that was in the air he was as keenly sensitive as a child's tongue to +the first sharp touch of a drop of brandy. And then, at last, a low and +sullen growl came like a distant roll of thunder from out of his chest. He +was overlord of these domains, and slowly his brain told him that there +should be no smell which he could not comprehend, and of which he was not +the master. + +Thor reared up slowly, until the whole nine feet of him rested on his +haunches, and he sat like a trained dog, with his great forefeet, heavy +with mud, drooping in front of his chest. For ten years he had lived in +these mountains and never had he smelled that smell. He defied it. He +waited for it, while it came stronger and nearer. He did not hide himself. +Clean-cut and unafraid, he stood up. + +He was a monster in size, and his new June coat shone a golden brown in the +sun. His forearms were almost as large as a man's body; the three largest +of his five knifelike claws were five and a half inches long; in the mud +his feet had left tracks that were fifteen inches from tip to tip. He was +fat, and sleek, and powerful. His eyes, no larger than hickory nuts, were +eight inches apart. His two upper fangs, sharp as stiletto points, were as +long as a man's thumb, and between his great jaws he could crush the neck +of a caribou. + +Thor's life had been free of the presence of man, and he was not ugly. Like +most grizzlies, he did not kill for the pleasure of killing. Out of a herd +he would take one caribou, and he would eat that caribou to the marrow in +the last bone. He was a peaceful king. He had one law: "Let me alone!" he +said, and the voice of that law was in his attitude as he sat on his +haunches sniffing the strange smell. + +In his massive strength, in his aloneness and his supremacy, the great bear +was like the mountains, unrivalled in the valleys as they were in the +skies. With the mountains, he had come down out of the ages. He was part of +them. The history of his race had begun and was dying among them, and they +were alike in many ways. Until this day he could not remember when anything +had come to question his might and his right--except those of his own +kind. With such rivals he had fought fairly and more than once to the +death. He was ready to fight again, if it came to a question of sovereignty +over the ranges which he claimed as his own. Until he was beaten he was +dominator, arbiter, and despot, if he chose to be. He was dynast of the +rich valleys and the green slopes, and liege lord of all living things +about him. He had won and kept these things openly, without strategy or +treachery. He was hated and he was feared, but he was without hatred or +fear of his own--and he was honest. Therefore he waited openly for the +strange thing that was coming to him from down the valley. + +As he sat on his haunches, questioning the air with his keen brown nose, +something within him was reaching back into dim and bygone generations. +Never before had he caught the taint that was in his nostrils, yet now that +it came to him it did not seem altogether new. He could not place it. He +could not picture it. Yet he knew that it was a menace and a threat. + +For ten minutes he sat like a carven thing on his haunches. Then the wind +shifted, and the scent grew less and less, until it was gone altogether. + +Thor's flat ears lifted a little. He turned his huge head slowly so that +his eyes took in the green slope and the tiny plain. He easily forgot the +smell now that the air was clear and sweet again. He dropped on his four +feet, and resumed his gopher-hunting. + +There was something of humour in his hunt. Thor weighed a thousand pounds; +a mountain gopher is six inches long and weighs six ounces. Yet Thor would +dig energetically for an hour, and rejoice at the end by swallowing the fat +little gopher like a pill; it was his _bonne bouche_, the luscious tidbit +in the quest of which he spent a third of his spring and summer digging. + +He found a hole located to his satisfaction and began throwing out the +earth like a huge dog after a rat. He was on the crest of the slope. Once +or twice during the next half-hour he lifted his head, but he was no longer +disturbed by the strange smell that had come to him with the wind. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + + +A mile down the valley Jim Langdon stopped his horse where the spruce and +balsam timber thinned out at the mouth of a coulee, looked ahead of him for +a breathless moment or two, and then with an audible gasp of pleasure swung +his right leg over so that his knee crooked restfully about the horn of his +saddle, and waited. + +Two or three hundred yards behind him, still buried in the timber, Otto was +having trouble with Dishpan, a contumacious pack-mare. Langdon grinned +happily as he listened to the other's vociferations, which threatened +Dishpan with every known form of torture and punishment, from instant +disembowelment to the more merciful end of losing her brain through the +medium of a club. He grinned because Otto's vocabulary descriptive of +terrible things always impending over the heads of his sleek and utterly +heedless pack-horses was one of his chief joys. He knew that if Dishpan +should elect to turn somersaults while diamond-hitched under her pack, +big, good-natured Bruce Otto would do nothing more than make the welkin +ring with his terrible, blood-curdling protest. + +One after another the six horses of their outfit appeared out of the +timber, and last of all rode the mountain man. He was gathered like a +partly released spring in his saddle, an attitude born of years in the +mountains, and because of a certain difficulty he had in distributing +gracefully his six-foot-two-inch length of flesh and bone astride a +mountain cayuse. + +Upon his appearance Langdon dismounted, and turned his eyes again up the +valley. The stubbly blond beard on his face did not conceal the deep tan +painted there by weeks of exposure in the mountains; he had opened his +shirt at the throat, exposing a neck darkened by sun and wind; his eyes +were of a keen, searching blue-gray, and they quested the country ahead of +him now with the joyous intentness of the hunter and the adventurer. + +Langdon was thirty-five. A part of his life he spent in the wild places; +the other part he spent in writing about the things he found there. His +companion was five years his junior in age, but had the better of him by +six inches in length of anatomy, if those additional inches could be called +an advantage. Bruce thought they were not. "The devil of it is I ain't done +growin' yet!" he often explained. + +He rode up now and unlimbered himself. Langdon pointed ahead. + +"Did you ever see anything to beat that?" he asked. + +"Fine country," agreed Bruce. "Mighty good place to camp, too, Jim. There +ought to be caribou in this range, an' bear. We need some fresh meat. Gimme +a match, will you?" + +It had come to be a habit with them to light both their pipes with one +match when possible. They performed this ceremony now while viewing the +situation. As he puffed the first luxurious cloud of smoke from his +bulldog, Langdon nodded toward the timber from which they had just come. + +"Fine place for our tepee," he said. "Dry wood, running water, and the +first good balsam we've struck in a week for our beds. We can hobble the +horses in that little open plain we crossed a quarter of a mile back. I saw +plenty of buffalo grass and a lot of wild timothy." + +He looked at his watch. + +"It's only three o'clock. We might go on. But--what do you say? Shall we +stick for a day or two, and see what this country looks like?" + +"Looks good to me," said Bruce. + +He sat down as he spoke, with his back to a rock, and over his knee he +levelled a long brass telescope. From his saddle Langdon unslung a +binocular glass imported from Paris. The telescope was a relic of the Civil +War. Together, their shoulders touching as they steadied themselves against +the rock, they studied the rolling slopes and the green sides of the +mountains ahead of them. + +They were in the Big Game country, and what Langdon called the Unknown. So +far as he and Bruce Otto could discover, no other white man had ever +preceded them. It was a country shut in by tremendous ranges, through which +it had taken them twenty days of sweating toil to make a hundred miles. + +That afternoon they had crossed the summit of the Great Divide that split +the skies north and south, and through their glasses they were looking now +upon the first green slopes and wonderful peaks of the Firepan Mountains. +To the northward--and they had been travelling north--was the Skeena +River; on the west and south were the Babine range and waterways; eastward, +over the Divide, was the Driftwood, and still farther eastward the Ominica +range and the tributaries of the Finley. They had started from civilization +on the tenth day of May and this was the thirtieth of June. + +As Langdon looked through his glasses he believed that at last they had +reached the bourne of their desires. For nearly two months they had worked +to get beyond the trails of men, and they had succeeded. There were no +hunters here. There were no prospectors. The valley ahead of them was +filled with golden promise, and as he sought out the first of its mystery +and its wonder his heart was filled with the deep and satisfying joy which +only men like Langdon can fully understand. To his friend and comrade, +Bruce Otto, with whom he had gone five times into the North country, all +mountains and all valleys were very much alike; he was born among them, he +had lived among them all his life, and he would probably die among them. + +It was Bruce who gave him a sudden sharp nudge with his elbow. + +"I see the heads of three caribou crossing a dip about a mile and a half +up the valley," he said, without taking his eyes from the telescope. + +"And I see a Nanny and her kid on the black shale of that first mountain to +the right," replied Langdon. "And, by George, there's a Sky Pilot looking +down on her from a crag a thousand feet above the shale! He's got a beard a +foot long. Bruce, I'll bet we've struck a regular Garden of Eden!" + +"Looks it," vouchsafed Bruce, coiling up his long legs to get a better rest +for his telescope. "If this ain't a sheep an' bear country, I've made the +worst guess I ever made in my life." + +For five minutes they looked, without a word passing between them. Behind +them their horses were nibbling hungrily in the thick, rich grass. The +sound of the many waters in the mountains droned in their ears, and the +valley seemed sleeping in a sea of sunshine. Langdon could think of nothing +more comparable than that--slumber. The valley was like a great, +comfortable, happy cat, and the sounds they heard, all commingling in that +pleasing drone, was its drowsy purring. He was focussing his glass a +little more closely on the goat standing watchfully on its crag, when Otto +spoke again. + +"I see a grizzly as big as a house!" he announced quietly. + +Bruce seldom allowed his equanimity to be disturbed, except by the +pack-horses. Thrilling news like this he always introduced as unconcernedly +as though speaking of a bunch of violets. + +Langdon sat up with a jerk. + +"Where?" he demanded. + +He leaned over to get the range of the other's telescope, every nerve in +his body suddenly aquiver. + +"See that slope on the second shoulder, just beyond the ravine over there?" +said Bruce, with one eye closed and the other still glued to the telescope. +"He's halfway up, digging out a gopher." + +Langdon focussed his glass on the slope, and a moment later an excited gasp +came from him. + +"See 'im?" asked Bruce. + +"The glass has pulled him within four feet of my nose," replied Langdon. +"Bruce, that's the biggest grizzly in the Rocky Mountains!" + +"If he ain't, he's his twin brother," chuckled the packer, without moving a +muscle. "He beats your eight-footer by a dozen inches, Jimmy! An'"--he +paused at this psychological moment to pull a plug of black MacDonald from +his pocket and bite off a mouthful, without taking the telescope from his +eye--"an' the wind is in our favour an' he's as busy as a flea!" he +finished. + +Otto unwound himself and rose to his feet, and Langdon jumped up briskly. +In such situations as this there was a mutual understanding between them +which made words unnecessary. They led the eight horses back into the edge +of the timber and tied them there, took their rifles from the leather +holsters, and each was careful to put a sixth cartridge in the chamber of +his weapon. Then for a matter of two minutes they both studied the slope +and its approaches with their naked eyes. + +"We can slip up the ravine," suggested Langdon. + +Bruce nodded. + +"I reckon it's a three-hundred-yard shot from there," he said. "It's the +best we can do. He'd get our wind if we went below 'im. If it was a couple +o' hours earlier--" + +"We'd climb over the mountain and come down on him from _above_!" exclaimed +Langdon, laughing. + +"Bruce, you're the most senseless idiot on the face of the globe when it +comes to climbing mountains! You'd climb over Hardesty or Geikie to shoot a +goat from above, even though you could get him from the valley without any +work at all. I'm glad it isn't morning. We can get that bear from the +ravine!" + +"Mebbe," said Bruce, and they started. + +They walked openly over the green, flower-carpeted meadows ahead of them. +Until they came within at least half a mile of the grizzly there was no +danger of him seeing them. The wind had shifted, and was almost in their +faces. Their swift walk changed to a dog-trot, and they swung in nearer to +the slope, so that for fifteen minutes a huge knoll concealed the grizzly. +In another ten minutes they came to the ravine, a narrow, rock-littered and +precipitous gully worn in the mountainside by centuries of spring floods +gushing down from the snow-peaks above. Here they made cautious +observation. + +The big grizzly was perhaps six hundred yards up the slope, and pretty +close to three hundred yards from the nearest point reached by the gully. + +Bruce spoke in a whisper now. + +"You go up an' do the stalkin', Jimmy," he said. "That bear's goin' to do +one of two things if you miss or only wound 'im--one o' three, mebbe: he's +going to investigate _you_, or he's going up over the break, or he's comin' +down in the valley--this way. We can't keep 'im from goin' over the break, +an' if he tackles you--just summerset it down the gully. You can beat 'im +out. He's most apt to come this way if you don't get 'im, so I'll wait +here. Good luck to you, Jimmy!" + +With this he went out and crouched behind a rock, where he could keep an +eye on the grizzly, and Langdon began to climb quietly up the +boulder-strewn gully. + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + + +Of all the living creatures in this sleeping valley, Thor was the busiest. +He was a bear with individuality, you might say. Like some people, he went +to bed very early; he began to get sleepy in October, and turned in for his +long nap in November. He slept until April, and usually was a week or ten +days behind other bears in waking. He was a sound sleeper, and when awake +he was very wide awake. During April and May he permitted himself to doze +considerably in the warmth of sunny rocks, but from the beginning of June +until the middle of September he closed his eyes in real sleep just about +four hours out of every twelve. + +He was very busy as Langdon began his cautious climb up the gully. He had +succeeded in getting his gopher, a fat, aldermanic old patriarch who had +disappeared in one crunch and a gulp, and he was now absorbed in finishing +off his day's feast with an occasional fat, white grub and a few sour ants +captured from under stones which he turned over with his paw. + +In his search after these delicacies Thor used his right paw in turning +over the rocks. Ninety-nine out of every hundred bears--probably a hundred +and ninety-nine out of every two hundred--are left-handed; Thor was +right-handed. This gave him an advantage in fighting, in fishing, and in +stalking meat, for a grizzly's right arm is longer than his left--so much +longer that if he lost his sixth sense of orientation he would be +constantly travelling in a circle. + +In his quest Thor was headed for the gully. His huge head hung close to the +ground. At short distances his vision was microscopic in its keenness; his +olfactory nerves were so sensitive that he could catch one of the big +rock-ants with his eyes shut. + +He would choose the flat rocks mostly. His huge right paw, with its long +claws, was as clever as a human hand. The stone lifted, a sniff or two, a +lick of his hot, flat tongue, and he ambled on to the next. + +He took this work with tremendous seriousness, much like an elephant +hunting for peanuts hidden in a bale of hay. He saw no humour in the +operation. As a matter of fact, Nature had not intended there should be any +humour about it. Thor's time was more or less valueless, and during the +course of a summer he absorbed in his system a good many hundred thousand +sour ants, sweet grubs, and juicy insects of various kinds, not to mention +a host of gophers and still tinier rock-rabbits. These small things all +added to the huge rolls of fat which it was necessary for him to store up +for that "absorptive consumption" which kept him alive during his long +winter sleep. This was why Nature had made his little greenish-brown eyes +twin microscopes, infallible at distances of a few feet, and almost +worthless at a thousand yards. + +As he was about to turn over a fresh stone Thor paused in his operations. +For a full minute he stood nearly motionless. Then his head swung slowly, +his nose close to the ground. Very faintly he had caught an exceedingly +pleasing odour. It was so faint that he was afraid of losing it if he +moved. So he stood until he was sure of himself, then he swung his huge +shoulders around and descended two yards down the slope, swinging his head +slowly from right to left, and sniffing. The scent grew stronger. Another +two yards down the slope he found it very strong under a rock. It was a big +rock, and weighed probably two hundred pounds. Thor dragged it aside with +his one right hand as if it were no more than a pebble. + +Instantly there was a wild and protesting chatter, and a tiny striped +rock-rabbit, very much like a chipmunk, darted away just as Thor's left +hand came down with a smash that would have broken the neck of a caribou. + +It was not the scent of the rock-rabbit, but the savour of what the +rock-rabbit had stored under the stone that had attracted Thor. And this +booty still remained--a half-pint of ground-nuts piled carefully in a +little hollow lined with moss. They were not really nuts. They were more +like diminutive potatoes, about the size of cherries, and very much like +potatoes in appearance. They were starchy and sweet, and fattening. Thor +enjoyed them immensely, rumbling in that curious satisfied way deep down in +his chest as he feasted. And then he resumed his quest. + +He did not hear Langdon as the hunter came nearer and nearer up the broken +gully. He did not smell him, for the wind was fatally wrong. He had +forgotten the noxious man-smell that had disturbed and irritated him an +hour before. He was quite happy; he was good-humoured; he was fat and +sleek. An irritable, cross-grained, and quarrelsome bear is always thin. +The true hunter knows him as soon as he sets eyes on him. He is like the +rogue elephant. + +Thor continued his food-seeking, edging still closer to the gully. He was +within a hundred and fifty yards of it when a sound suddenly brought him +alert. Langdon, in his effort to creep up the steep side of the gully for a +shot, had accidentally loosened a rock. It went crashing down the ravine, +starting other stones that followed in a noisy clatter. At the foot of the +coulee, six hundred yards down, Bruce swore softly under his breath. He saw +Thor sit up. At that distance he was going to shoot if the bear made for +the break. + +For thirty seconds Thor sat on his haunches. Then he started for the +ravine, ambling slowly and deliberately. Langdon, panting and inwardly +cursing at his ill luck, struggled to make the last ten feet to the edge +of the slope. He heard Bruce yell, but he could not make out the warning. +Hands and feet he dug fiercely into shale and rock as he fought to make +those last three or four yards as quickly as possible. + +He was almost to the top when he paused for a moment and turned his eyes +upward. His heart went into his throat, and he started. For ten seconds he +could not move. Directly over him was a monster head and a huge hulk of +shoulder. Thor was looking down on him, his jaws agape, his finger-long +fangs snarling, his eyes burning with a greenish-red fire. + +In that moment Thor saw his first of man. His great lungs were filled with +the hot smell of him, and suddenly he turned away from that smell as if +from a plague. With his rifle half under him Langdon had had no opportunity +to shoot. Wildly he clambered up the remaining few feet. The shale and +stones slipped and slid under him. It was a matter of sixty seconds before +he pulled himself over the top. + +Thor was a hundred yards away, speeding in a rolling, ball-like motion +toward the break. From the foot of the coulee came the sharp crack of +Otto's rifle. Langdon squatted quickly, raising his left knee for a rest, +and at a hundred and fifty yards began firing. + +Sometimes it happens that an hour--a minute--changes the destiny of man; +and the ten seconds which followed swiftly after that first shot from the +foot of the coulee changed Thor. He had got his fill of the man-smell. He +had seen man. And now he _felt_ him. + +It was as if one of the lightning flashes he had often seen splitting the +dark skies had descended upon him and had entered his flesh like a red-hot +knife; and with that first burning agony of pain came the strange, echoing +roar of the rifles. He had turned up the slope when the bullet struck him +in the fore-shoulder, mushrooming its deadly soft point against his tough +hide, and tearing a hole through his flesh--but without touching the bone. +He was two hundred yards from the ravine when it hit; he was nearer three +hundred when the stinging fire seared him again, this time in his flank. + +Neither shot had staggered his huge bulk, twenty such shots would not have +killed him. But the second stopped him, and he turned with a roar of rage +that was like the bellowing of a mad bull--a snarling, thunderous cry of +wrath that could have been heard a quarter of a mile down the valley. + +Bruce heard it as he fired his sixth unavailing shot at seven hundred +yards. Langdon was reloading. For fifteen seconds Thor offered himself +openly, roaring his defiance, challenging the enemy he could no longer see; +and then at Langdon's seventh shot, a whiplash of fire raked his back, and +in strange dread of this lightning which he could not fight, Thor continued +up over the break. He heard other rifle shots, which were like a new kind +of thunder. But he was not hit again. Painfully he began the descent into +the next valley. + +Thor knew that he was hurt, but he could not comprehend that hurt. Once in +the descent he paused for a few moments, and a little pool of blood dripped +upon the ground under his foreleg. He sniffed at it suspiciously and +wonderingly. + +He swung eastward, and a little later he caught a fresh taint of the +man-smell in the air. The wind was bringing it to him now, and in spite of +the fact that he wanted to lie down and nurse his wound he ambled on a +little faster, for he had learned one thing that he would never forget: the +man-smell and his hurt had come together. + +He reached the bottoms, and buried himself in the thick timber; and then, +crossing this timber, he came to a creek. Perhaps a hundred times he had +travelled up and down this creek. It was the main trail that led from one +half of his range to the other. + +Instinctively he always took this trail when he was hurt or when he was +sick, and also when he was ready to den up for the winter. There was one +chief reason for this: he was born in the almost impenetrable fastnesses at +the head of the creek, and his cubhood had been spent amid its brambles of +wild currants and soap berries and its rich red ground carpets of +kinnikinic. It was home. In it he was alone. It was the one part of his +domain that he held inviolate from all other bears. He tolerated other +bears--blacks and grizzlies--on the wider and sunnier slopes of his range +just so long as they moved on when he approached. They might seek food +there, and nap in the sun-pools, and live in quiet and peace if they did +not defy his suzerainty. + +Thor did not drive other bears from his range, except when it was +necessary to demonstrate again that he was High Mogul. This happened +occasionally, and there was a fight. And always after a fight Thor came +into this valley and went up the creek to cure his wounds. + +He made his way more slowly than usual to-day. There was a terrible pain in +his fore-shoulder. Now and then it hurt him so that his leg doubled up, and +he stumbled. Several times he waded shoulder-deep into pools and let the +cold water run over his wounds. Gradually they stopped bleeding. But the +pain grew worse. + +Thor's best friend in such an emergency was a clay wallow. This was the +second reason why he always took this trail when he was sick or hurt. It +led to the clay wallow. And the clay wallow was his doctor. + +The sun was setting before he reached the wallow. His jaws hung open a +little. His great head drooped lower. He had lost a great deal of blood. He +was tired, and his shoulder hurt him so badly that he wanted to tear with +his teeth at the strange fire that was consuming it. + +The clay wallow was twenty or thirty feet in diameter, and hollowed into a +little shallow pool in the centre. It was a soft, cool, golden-coloured +clay, and Thor waded into it to his armpits. Then he rolled over gently on +his wounded side. The clay touched his hurt like a cooling salve. It sealed +the cut, and Thor gave a great heaving gasp of relief. For a long time he +lay in that soft bed of clay. The sun went down, darkness came, and the +wonderful stars filled the sky. And still Thor lay there, nursing that +first hurt of man. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + + +In the edge of the balsam and spruce Langdon and Otto sat smoking their +pipes after supper, with the glowing embers of a fire at their feet. The +night air in these higher altitudes of the mountains had grown chilly, and +Bruce rose long enough to throw a fresh armful of dry spruce on the coals. +Then he stretched out his long form again, with his head and shoulders +bolstered comfortably against the butt of a tree, and for the fiftieth time +he chuckled. + +"Chuckle an' be blasted," growled Langdon. "I tell you I hit him twice, +Bruce--twice anyway; and I was at a devilish disadvantage!" + +"'Specially when 'e was lookin' down an' grinnin' in your face," retorted +Bruce, who had enjoyed hugely his comrade's ill luck. "Jimmy, at that +distance you should a'most ha' killed 'im with a rock!" + +"My gun was under me," explained Langdon for the twentieth time. + +"W'ich ain't just the proper place for a gun to be when yo'r hunting a +grizzly," reminded Bruce. + +"The gully was confoundedly steep. I had to dig in with both feet and my +fingers. If it had been any steeper I would have used my teeth." + +Langdon sat up, knocked the ash out of the bowl of his pipe, and reloaded +it with fresh tobacco. + +"Bruce, that's the biggest grizzly in the Rocky Mountains!" + +"He'd 'a' made a fine rug in your den, Jimmy--if yo'r gun hadn't 'appened +to 'ave been under you." + +"And I'm going to have him in my den before I finish," declared Langdon. +"I've made up my mind. We'll make a permanent camp here. I'm going to get +that grizzly if it takes all summer. I'd rather have him than any other ten +bears in the Firepan Range. He was a nine-footer if an inch. His head was +as big as a bushel basket, and the hair on his shoulders was four inches +long. I don't know that I'm sorry I didn't kill him. He's hit, and he'll +surely fight say. There'll be a lot of fun in getting him." + +"There will that," agreed Bruce, "'specially if you meet 'im again during +the next week or so, while he's still sore from the bullets. Better not +have the gun under you then, Jimmy!" + +"What do you say to making this a permanent camp?" + +"Couldn't be better. Plenty of fresh meat, good grazing, and fine water." +After a moment he added: "He was hit pretty hard. He was bleedin' bad at +the summit." + +In the firelight Langdon began cleaning his rifle. + +"You think he may clear out--leave the country?" + +Bruce emitted a grunt of disgust. + +"Clear out? _Run away_? Mebbe he would if he was a black. But he's a +grizzly, and the boss of this country. He may fight shy of this valley for +a while, but you can bet he ain't goin' to emigrate. The harder you hit a +grizzly the madder he gets, an' if you keep on hittin' 'im he keeps on +gettin' madder, until he drops dead. If you want that bear bad enough we +can surely get him." + +"I do," Langdon reiterated with emphasis. "He'll smash record measurements +or I miss my guess. I want him, and I want him bad, Bruce. Do you think +we'll be able to trail him in the morning?" + +Bruce shook his head. + +"It won't be a matter of trailing," he said. "It's just simply _hunt_. +After a grizzly has been hit he keeps movin'. He won't go out of his range, +an' neither is he going to show himself on the open slopes like that up +there. Metoosin ought to be along with the dogs inside of three or four +days, an' when we get that bunch of Airedales in action, there'll be some +fun." + +Langdon sighted at the fire through the polished barrel of his rifle, and +said doubtfully: + +"I've been having my doubts about Metoosin for a week back. We've come +through some mighty rough country." + +"That old Indian could follow our trail if we travelled on rock," declared +Bruce confidently. "He'll be here inside o' three days, barring the dogs +don't run their fool heads into too many porcupines. An' when they +come"--he rose and stretched his gaunt frame--"we'll have the biggest time +we ever had in our lives. I'm just guessin' these mount'ins are so full o' +bear that them ten dogs will all be massacreed within a week. Want to bet?" + +Langdon closed his rifle with a snap. + +"I only want one bear," he said, ignoring the challenge, "and I have an +idea we'll get him to-morrow. You're the bear specialist of the outfit, +Bruce, but I think he was too hard hit to travel far." + +They had made two beds of soft balsam boughs near the fire, and Langdon now +followed his companion's example, and began spreading his blankets. It had +been a hard day, and within five minutes after stretching himself out he +was asleep. + +He was still asleep when Bruce rolled out from under his blanket at dawn. +Without rousing Langdon the young packer slipped on his boots and waded +back a quarter of a mile through the heavy dew to round up the horses. When +he returned he brought Dishpan and their saddle-horses with him. By that +time Langdon was up, and starting a fire. + +Langdon frequently reminded himself that such mornings as this had made him +disappoint the doctors and rob the grave. Just eight years ago this June he +had come into the North for the first time, thin-chested and with a bad +lung. "You can go if you insist, young man," one of the doctors had told +him, "but you're going to your own funeral." And now he had a five-inch +expansion and was as tough as a knot. The first rose-tints of the sun were +creeping over the mountain-tops; the air was filled with the sweetness of +flowers, and dew, and growing things, and his lungs drew in deep breaths of +oxygen laden with the tonic and perfume of balsam. + +He was more demonstrative than his companion in the joyousness of this wild +life. It made him want to shout, and sing, and whistle. He restrained +himself this morning. The thrill of the hunt was in his blood. + +While Otto saddled the horses Langdon made the bannock. He had become an +expert at what he called "wild-bread" baking, and his method possessed the +double efficiency of saving both waste and time. + +He opened one of the heavy canvas flour sacks, made a hollow in the flour +with his two doubled fists, partly filled this hollow with a pint of water +and half a cupful of caribou grease, added a tablespoonful of baking powder +and a three-finger pinch of salt, and began to mix. Inside of five minutes +he had the bannock loaves in the big tin reflector, and half an hour later +the sheep steaks were fried, the potatoes done, and the bannock baked to a +golden brown. + +The sun was just showing its face in the east when they trailed out of +camp. They rode across the valley, but walked up the slope, the horses +following obediently in their footsteps. + +It was not difficult to pick up Thor's trail. Where he had paused to snarl +back defiance at his enemies there was a big red spatter on the ground; +from this point to the summit they followed a crimson thread of blood. +Three times in descending into the other valley they found where Thor had +stopped, and each time they saw where a pool of blood had soaked into the +earth or run over the rock. + +They passed through the timber and came to the creek, and here, in a strip +of firm black sand, Thor's footprints brought them to a pause. Bruce +stared. An exclamation of amazement came from Langdon, and without a word +having passed between them he drew out his pocket-tape and knelt beside one +of the tracks. + +"Fifteen and a quarter inches!" he gasped. + +"Measure another," said Bruce. + +"Fifteen and--a half!" + +Bruce looked up the gorge. + +"The biggest I ever see was fourteen an' a half," he said, and there was a +touch of awe in his voice. "He was shot up the Athabasca an' he's stood as +the biggest grizzly ever killed in British Columbia. Jimmy, _this one beats +'im_!" + +They went on, and measured the tracks again at the edge of the first pool +where Thor had bathed his wounds. There was almost no variation in the +measurements. Only occasionally after this did they find spots of blood. It +was ten o'clock when they came to the clay wallow and saw where Thor had +made his bed in it. + +"He was pretty sick," said Bruce in a low voice. "He was here most all +night." + +Moved by the same impulse and the same thought, they looked ahead of them. +Half a mile farther on the mountains closed in until the gorge between them +was dark and sunless. + +"He was pretty sick," repeated Bruce, still looking ahead. "Mebbe we'd +better tie the horses an' go on alone. It's possible--he's in there." + +They tied the horses to scrub cedars, and relieved Dishpan of her pack. + +Then, with their rifles in readiness, and eyes and ears alert, they went on +cautiously into the silence and gloom of the gorge. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + + +Thor had gone up the gorge at daybreak. He was stiff when he rose from the +clay wallow, but a good deal of the burning and pain had gone from his +wound. It still hurt him, but not as it had hurt him the preceding evening. +His discomfort was not all in his shoulder, and it was not in any one place +in particular. He was _sick_, and had he been human he would have been in +bed with a thermometer under his tongue and a doctor holding his pulse. He +walked up the gorge slowly and laggingly. An indefatigable seeker of food, +he no longer thought of food. He was not hungry, and he did not want to +eat. + +With his hot tongue he lapped frequently at the cool water of the creek, +and even more frequently he turned half about, and sniffed the wind. He +knew that the man-smell and the strange thunder and the still more +inexplicable lightning lay behind him. All night he had been on guard, and +he was cautious now. + +For a particular hurt Thor knew of no particular remedy. He was not a +botanist in the finer sense of the word, but in creating him the Spirit of +the Wild had ordained that he should be his own physician. As a cat seeks +catnip, so Thor sought certain things when he was not feeling well. All +bitterness is not quinine, but certainly bitter things were Thor's +remedies, and as he made his way up the gorge his nose hung close to the +ground, and he sniffed in the low copses and thick bush-tangles he passed. + +He came to a small green spot covered with kinnikinic, a ground plant two +inches high which bore red berries as big as a small pea. They were not red +now, but green; bitter as gall, and contained an astringent tonic called +uvaursi. Thor ate them. + +After that he found soap berries growing on bushes that looked very much +like currant bushes. The fruit was already larger than currants, and +turning pink. Indians ate these berries when they had fever, and Thor +gathered half a pint before he went on. They, too, were bitter. + +He nosed the trees, and found at last what he wanted. It was a jackpine, +and at several places within his reach the fresh pitch was oozing. A bear +seldom passes a bleeding jackpine. It is his chief tonic, and Thor licked +the fresh pitch with his tongue. In this way he absorbed not only +turpentine, but also, in a roundabout sort of way, a whole pharmacopoeia of +medicines made from this particular element. + +By the time he arrived at the end of the gorge Thor's stomach was a fairly +well-stocked drug emporium. Among other things he had eaten perhaps half a +quart of spruce and balsam needles. When a dog is sick he eats grass; when +a bear is sick he eats pine or balsam needles if he can get them. Also he +pads his stomach and intestines with them in the last hour before denning +himself away for the winter. + +The sun was not yet up when Thor came to the end of the gorge, and stood +for a few moments at the mouth of a low cave that reached back into the +wall of the mountain. How far his memory went back it would be impossible +to say; but in the whole world, as he knew it, this cave was home. It was +not more than four feet high, and twice as wide, but it was many times as +deep and was carpeted with a soft white floor of sand. In some past age a +little stream had trickled out of this cavern, and the far end of it made a +comfortable bedroom for a sleeping bear when the temperature was fifty +degrees below zero. + +Ten years before Thor's mother had gone in there to sleep through the +winter, and when she waddled out to get her first glimpse of spring three +little cubs waddled with her. Thor was one of them. He was still half +blind, for it is five weeks after a grizzly cub is born before he can see; +and there was not much hair on his body, for a grizzly cub is born as naked +as a human baby. His eyes open and his hair begins to grow at just about +the same time. Since then Thor had denned eight times in that cavern home. + +He wanted to go in now. He wanted to lie down in the far end of it and wait +until he felt better. For perhaps two or three minutes he hesitated, +sniffing yearningly at the door to his cave, and then feeling the wind from +down the gorge. Something told him that he should go on. + +To the westward there was a sloping ascent up out of the gorge to the +summit, and Thor climbed this. The sun was well up when he reached the top, +and for a little while he rested again and looked down on the other half of +his domain. + +Even more wonderful was this valley than the one into which Bruce and +Langdon had ridden a few hours before. From range to range it was a good +two miles in width, and in the opposite directions it stretched away in a +great rolling panorama of gold and green and black. From where Thor stood +it was like an immense park. Green slopes reached almost to the summits of +the mountains, and to a point halfway up these slopes--the last +timber-line--clumps of spruce and balsam trees were scattered over the +green as if set there by the hands of men. Some of these timber-patches +were no larger than the decorative clumps in a city park, and others +covered acres and tens of acres; and at the foot of the slopes on either +side, like decorative fringes, were thin and unbroken lines of forest. +Between these two lines of forest lay the open valley of soft and +undulating meadow, dotted with its purplish bosks of buffalo willow and +mountain sage, its green coppices of wild-rose and thorn, and its clumps +of trees. In the hollow of the valley ran a stream. + +Thor descended about four hundred yards from where he stood, and then +turned northward along the green slope, so that he was travelling from +patch to patch of the parklike timber, a hundred and fifty or two hundred +yards above the fringe of forest. To this height, midway between the +meadows in the valley and the first shale and bare rock of the peaks, he +came most frequently on his small game hunts. + +Like fat woodchucks the whistlers were already beginning to sun themselves +on their rocks. Their long, soft, elusive whistlings, pleasant to hear +above the drone of mountain waters, filled the air with a musical cadence. +Now and then one would whistle shrilly and warningly close at hand, and +then flatten himself out on his rock as the big bear passed, and for a few +moments no whistling would break upon the gentle purring of the valley. + +But Thor was giving no thought to the hunt this morning. Twice he +encountered porcupines, the sweetest of all morsels to him, and passed them +unnoticed; the warm, _sleeping_ smell of a caribou came hot and fresh from +a thicket, but he did not approach the thicket to investigate; out of a +coulee, narrow and dark, like a black ditch, he caught the scent of a +badger. For two hours he travelled steadily northward along the half-crest +of the slopes before he struck down through the timber to the stream. + +The clay adhering to his wound was beginning to harden, and again he waded +shoulder-deep into a pool, and stood there for several minutes. The water +washed most of the clay away. For another two hours he followed the creek, +drinking frequently. Then came the _sapoos oowin_--six hours after he had +left the clay wallow. The kinnikinic berries, the soap berries, the +jackpine pitch, the spruce and balsam needles, and the water he had drunk, +all mixed in his stomach in one big compelling dose, brought it about--and +Thor felt tremendously better, so much better that for the first time he +turned and growled back in the direction of his enemies. His shoulder still +hurt him, but his sickness was gone. + +For many minutes after the _sapoos oowin_ he stood without moving, and many +times he growled. The snarling rumble deep in his chest had a new meaning +now. Until last night and to-day he had not known a real hatred. He had +fought other bears, but the fighting rage was not hate. It came quickly, +and passed away quickly; it left no growing ugliness; he licked the wounds +of a clawed enemy, and was quite frequently happy while he nursed them. But +this new thing that was born in him was different. + +With an unforgetable and ferocious hatred he hated the thing that had hurt +him. He hated the man-smell; he hated the strange, white-faced thing he had +seen clinging to the side of the gorge; and his hatred included everything +associated with them. It was a hatred born of instinct and roused sharply +from its long slumber by experience. + +Without ever having seen or smelled man before, he knew that man was his +deadliest enemy, and to be feared more than all the wild things in the +mountains. He would fight the biggest grizzly. He would turn on the +fiercest pack of wolves. He would brave flood and fire without flinching. +But before man he must flee! He must hide! He must constantly guard himself +in the peaks and on the plains with eyes and ears and nose! + +Why he sensed this, why he understood all at once that a creature had come +into his world, a pigmy in size, yet more to be dreaded than any foe he had +ever known, was a miracle which nature alone could explain. It was a +hearkening back in the age-dimmed mental fabric of Thor's race to the +earliest days of man--man, first of all, with the club; man with the spear +hardened in fire; man with the flint-tipped arrow; man with the trap and +the deadfall, and, lastly, man with the gun. Through all the ages man had +been his one and only master. Nature had impressed it upon him--had been +impressing it upon him through a hundred or a thousand or ten thousand +generations. + +And now for the first time in his life that dormant part of his instinct +leaped into warning wakefulness, and he understood. He hated man, and +hereafter he would hate everything that bore the man-smell. And with this +hate there was also born in him for the first time _fear_. Had man never +pushed Thor and his kind to the death the world would not have known him as +Ursus Horribilis the Terrible. + +Thor still followed the creek, nosing along slowly and lumberingly, but +very steadily; his head and neck bent low, his huge rear quarters rising +and falling in that rolling motion peculiar to all bears, and especially +so of the grizzly. His long claws _click-click-clicked_ on the stones; he +crunched heavily in the gravel; in soft sand he left enormous footprints. + +That part of the valley which he was now entering held a particular +significance for Thor, and he began to loiter, pausing often to sniff the +air on all sides of him. He was not a monogamist, but for many mating +seasons past he had come to find his _Iskwao_ in this wonderful sweep of +meadow and plain between the two ranges. He could always expect her in +July, waiting for him or seeking him with that strange savage longing of +motherhood in her breast. She was a splendid grizzly who came from the +western ranges when the spirit of mating days called; big, and strong, and +of a beautiful golden-brown colour, so that the children of Thor and his +_Iskwao_ were the finest young grizzlies in all the mountains. The mother +took them back with her unborn, and they opened their eyes and lived and +fought in the valleys and on the slopes far to the west. If in later years +Thor ever chased his own children out of his hunting grounds, or whipped +them in a fight, Nature kindly blinded him to the fact. He was like most +grouchy old bachelors: he did not like small folk. He tolerated a little +cub as a cross-grained old woman-hater might have tolerated a pink baby; +but he wasn't as cruel as Punch, for he had never killed a cub. He had +cuffed them soundly whenever they had dared to come within reach of him, +but always with the flat, soft palm of his paw, and with just enough force +behind it to send them keeling over and over like little round fluffy +balls. + +This was Thor's only expression of displeasure when a strange mother-bear +invaded his range with her cubs. In other ways he was quite chivalrous. He +would not drive the mother-bear and her cubs away, and he would not fight +with her, no matter how shrewish or unpleasant she was. Even if he found +them eating at one of his kills, he would do nothing more than give the +cubs a sound cuffing. + +All this is somewhat necessary to show with what sudden and violent +agitation Thor caught a certain warm, close smell as he came around the end +of a mass of huge boulders. He stopped, turned his head, and swore in his +low, growling way. Six feet away from him, grovelling flat in a patch of +white sand, wriggling and shaking for all the world like a half-frightened +puppy that had not yet made up its mind whether it had met a friend or an +enemy, was a lone bear cub. It was not more than three months +old--altogether too young to be away from its mother; and it had a sharp +little tan face and a white spot on its baby breast which marked it as a +member of the black bear family, and not a grizzly. + +The cub was trying as hard as it could to say, "I am lost, strayed, or +stolen; I'm hungry, and I've got a porcupine quill in my foot," but in +spite of that, with another ominous growl, Thor began to look about the +rocks for the mother. She was not in sight, and neither could he smell her, +two facts which turned his great head again toward the cub. + +Muskwa--an Indian would have called the cub that--had crawled a foot or two +nearer on his little belly. He greeted Thor's second inspection with a +genial wriggling which carried him forward another half foot, and a low +warning rumbled in Thor's chest. "Don't come any nearer," it said plainly +enough, "or I'll keel you over!" + +Muskwa understood. He lay as if dead, his nose and paws and belly flat on +the sand, and Thor looked about him again. When his eyes returned to +Muskwa, the cub was within three feet of him, squirming flat in the sand +and whimpering softly. Thor lifted his right paw four inches from the +ground. "Another inch and I'll give you a welt!" he growled. + +Muskwa wriggled and trembled; he licked his lips with his tiny red tongue, +half in fear and half pleading for mercy, and in spite of Thor's lifted paw +he wormed his way another six inches nearer. + +There was a sort of rattle instead of a growl in Thor's throat. His heavy +hand fell to the sand. A third time he looked about and sniffed the air; he +growled again. Any crusty old bachelor would have understood that growl. +"Now where the devil is the kid's mother!" it said. + +Something happened then. Muskwa had crept close to Thor's wounded leg. He +rose up, and his nose caught the scent of the raw wound. Gently his tongue +touched it. It was like velvet--that tongue. It was wonderfully pleasant to +feel, and Thor stood there for many moments, making neither movement nor +sound while the cub licked his wound. Then he lowered his great head. He +sniffed the soft little ball of friendship that had come to him. Muskwa +whined in a motherless way. Thor growled, but more softly now. It was no +longer a threat. The heat of his great tongue fell once on the cub's face. + +"Come on!" he said, and resumed his journey into the north. + +And close at his heels followed the motherless little tan-faced cub. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + + +The creek which Thor was following was a tributary of the Babine, and he +was headed pretty nearly straight for the Skeena. As he was travelling +upstream the country was becoming higher and rougher. He had come perhaps +seven or eight miles from the summit of the divide when he found Muskwa. +From this point the slopes began to assume a different aspect. They were +cut up by dark, narrow gullies, and broken by enormous masses of rocks, +jagged cuffs, and steep slides of shale. The creek became noisier and more +difficult to follow. + +Thor was now entering one of his strongholds: a region which contained a +thousand hiding-places, if he had wanted to hide; a wild, uptorn country +where it was not difficult for him to kill big game, and where he was +certain that the man-smell would not follow him. + +For half an hour after leaving the mass of rocks where he had encountered +Muskwa, Thor lumbered on as if utterly oblivious of the fact that the cub +was following. But he could hear him and smell him. + +Muskwa was having a hard time of it. His fat little body and his fat little +legs were unaccustomed to this sort of journeying, but he was a game +youngster, and only twice did he whimper in that half-hour--once he toppled +off a rock into the edge of the creek, and again when he came down too hard +on the porcupine quill in his foot. + +At last Thor abandoned the creek and turned up a deep ravine, which he +followed until he came to a dip, or plateau-like plain, halfway up a broad +slope. Here he found a rock on the sunny side of a grassy knoll, and +stopped. It may be that little Muskwa's babyish friendship, the caress of +his soft little red tongue at just the psychological moment, and his +perseverance in following Thor had all combined to touch a responsive chord +in the other's big brute heart, for after nosing about restlessly for a few +moments Thor stretched himself out beside the rock. Not until then did the +utterly exhausted little tan-faced cub lie down, but when he did lie down +he was so dead tired that he was sound asleep in three minutes. + +Twice again during the early part of the afternoon the _sapoos oowin_ +worked on Thor, and he began to feel hungry. It was not the sort of hunger +to be appeased by ants and grubs, or even gophers and whistlers. It may be, +too, that he guessed how nearly starved little Muskwa was. The cub had not +once opened his eyes, and he still lay in his warm pool of sunshine when +Thor made up his mind to go on. + +It was about three o'clock, a particularly quiet and drowsy part of a late +June or early July day in a northern mountain valley. The whistlers had +piped until they were tired, and lay squat out in the sunshine on their +rocks; the eagles soared so high above the peaks that they were mere dots; +the hawks, with meat-filled crops, had disappeared into the timber; goat +and sheep were lying down far up toward the sky-line, and if there were any +grazing animals near they were well fed and napping. + +The mountain hunter knew that this was the hour when he should scan the +green slopes and the open places between the clumps of timber for bears, +and especially for flesh-eating bears. + +It was Thor's chief prospecting hour. Instinct told him that when all +other creatures were well fed and napping he could move more openly and +with less fear of detection. He could find his game, and watch it. +Occasionally he would kill a goat or a sheep or a caribou in broad +daylight, for over short distances he could run faster than either a goat +or a sheep, and as fast as a caribou. But chiefly he killed at sunset or in +the darkness of early evening. + +Thor rose from beside the rock with a prodigious whoof that roused Muskwa. +The cub got up, blinked at Thor and then at the sun, and shook himself +until he fell down. + +Thor eyed the black and tan mite a bit sourly. After the _sapoos oowin_ he +was craving red, juicy flesh, just as a very hungry man yearns for a thick +porterhouse instead of lady fingers or mayonnaise salad--flesh and plenty +of it; and how he could hunt down and kill a caribou with that half-starved +but very much interested cub at his heels puzzled him. + +Muskwa himself seemed to understand and answer the question. He ran a dozen +yards ahead of Thor, then stopped and looked back impudently, his little +ears perked forward, and with the look in his face of a small boy proving +to his father that he is perfectly qualified to go on his first rabbit +hunt. + +With another _whoof_ Thor started along the slope in a spurt that brought +him up to Muskwa immediately, and with a sudden sweep of his right paw he +sent the cub rolling a dozen feet behind him, a manner of speech that said +plainly enough, "That's where you belong if you're going hunting with me!" + +Then Thor lumbered slowly on, eyes and ears and nostrils keyed for the +hunt. He descended until he was not more than a hundred yards above the +creek, and he no longer sought out the easiest trail, but the rough and +broken places. He travelled slowly and in a zigzag fashion, stealing +cautiously around great masses of boulders, sniffing up each coulee that he +came to, and investigating the timber clumps and windfalls. + +At one time he would be so high up that he was close to the bare shale, and +again so low down that he walked in the sand and gravel of the creek. He +caught many scents in the wind, but none that held or deeply interested +him. Once, up near the shale, he smelled goat; but he never went above the +shale for meat. Twice he smelled sheep, and late in the afternoon he saw a +big ram looking down on him from a precipitous crag a hundred feet above. + +Lower down his nose touched the trails of porcupines, and often his head +hung over the footprints of caribou as he sniffed the air ahead. + +There were other bears in the valley, too. Mostly these had travelled along +the creek-bottom, showing they were blacks or cinnamons. Once Thor struck +the scent of another grizzly, and he rumbled ill-humouredly. + +Not once in the two hours after they left the sunrock did Thor pay any +apparent attention to Muskwa, who was growing hungrier and weaker as the +day lengthened. No boy that ever lived was gamer than the little tan-faced +cub. In the rough places he stumbled and fell frequently; up places that +Thor could make in a single step he had to fight desperately to make his +way; three times Thor waded through the creek and Muskwa half drowned +himself in following; he was battered and bruised and wet and his foot hurt +him--but he followed. Sometimes he was close to Thor, and at others he had +to run to catch up. The sun was setting when Thor at last found game, and +Muskwa was almost dead. + +He did not know why Thor flattened his huge bulk suddenly alongside a rock +at the edge of a rough meadow, from which they could look down into a small +hollow. He wanted to whimper, but he was afraid. And if he had ever wanted +his mother at any time in his short life he wanted her now. He could not +understand why she had left him among the rocks and had never come back; +that tragedy Langdon and Bruce were to discover a little later. And he +could not understand why she did not come to him now. This was just about +his nursing hour before going to sleep for the night, for he was a March +cub, and, according to the most approved mother-bear regulations, should +have had milk for another month. + +He was what Metoosin, the Indian, would have called _munookow_--that is, he +was very soft. Being a bear, his birth had not been like that of other +animals. His mother, like all mother-bears in a cold country, had brought +him into life a long time before she had finished her winter nap in her +den. He had come while she was asleep. For a month or six weeks after +that, while he was still blind and naked, she had given him milk, while she +herself neither ate nor drank nor saw the light of day. At the end of those +six weeks she had gone forth with him from her den to seek the first +mouthful of sustenance for herself. Not more than another six weeks had +passed since then, and Muskwa weighed about twenty pounds--that is, he had +weighed twenty pounds, but he was emptier now than he had ever been in his +life, and probably weighed a little less. + +Three hundred yards below Thor was a clump of balsams, a small thick patch +that grew close to the edge of the miniature lake whose water crept around +the farther end of the hollow. In that clump there was a caribou--perhaps +two or three. Thor knew that as surely as though he saw them. The +_wenipow_, or "lying down," smell of hoofed game was as different from the +_nechisoo_, or "grazing smell," to Thor as day from night. One hung +elusively in the air, like the faint and shifting breath of a passing +woman's scented dress and hair; the other came hot and heavy, close to the +earth, like the odour of a broken bottle of perfume. + +Even Muskwa now caught the scent as he crept up close behind the big +grizzly and lay down. + +For fully ten minutes Thor did not move. His eyes took in the hollow, the +edge of the lake, and the approach to the timber, and his nose gauged the +wind as accurately as the pointing of a compass. The reason he remained +quiet was that he was almost on the danger-line. In other words, the +mountains and the sudden dip had formed a "split wind" in the hollow, and +had Thor appeared fifty yards above where he now crouched, the keen-scented +caribou would have got full wind of him. + +With his little ears cocked forward and a new gleam of understanding in his +eyes, Muskwa now looked upon his first lesson in game-stalking. Crouched so +low that he seemed to be travelling on his belly, Thor moved slowly and +noiselessly toward the creek, the huge ruff just forward of his shoulders +standing out like the stiffened spine of a dog's back. Muskwa followed. For +fully a hundred yards Thor continued his detour, and three times in that +hundred yards he paused to sniff in the direction of the timber. At last he +was satisfied. The wind was full in his face, and it was rich with promise. + +[Illustration: "Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, +swung a little to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still +like a huge ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done."] + +He began to advance, in a slinking, rolling, rock-shouldered motion, +taking shorter steps now, and with every muscle in his great body ready for +action. Within two minutes he reached the edge of the balsams, and there he +paused again. The crackling of underbrush came distinctly. The caribou were +up, but they were not alarmed. They were going forth to drink and graze. + +Thor moved again, parallel to the sound. This brought him quickly to the +edge of the timber, and there he stood, concealed by foliage, but with the +lake and the short stretch of meadow in view. A big bull caribou came out +first. His horns were half grown, and in velvet. A two-year-old followed, +round and sleek and glistening like brown velvet in the sunset. For two +minutes the bull stood alert, eyes, ears, and nostrils seeking for +danger-signals; at his heels the younger animal nibbled less suspiciously +at the grass. Then lowering his head until his antlers swept back over his +shoulders the old bull started slowly toward the lake for his evening +drink. The two-year-old followed--and Thor came out softly from his +hiding-place. + +For a single moment he seemed to gather himself--and then he started. +Fifty feet separated him from the caribou. He had covered half that +distance like a huge rolling ball when the animals heard him. They were off +like arrows sprung from the bow. But they were too late. It would have +taken a swift horse to beat Thor and he had already gained momentum. + +Like the wind he bore down on the flank of the two-year-old, swung a little +to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still like a huge +ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done. + +His huge right arm swung over the two-year-old's shoulder, and as they went +down his left paw gripped the caribou's muzzle like a huge human hand. Thor +fell under, as he always planned to fall. He did not hug his victim to +death. Just once he doubled up one of his hind legs, and when it went back +the five knives it carried disembowelled the caribou. They not only +disembowelled him, but twisted and broke his ribs as though they were of +wood. Then Thor got up, looked around, and shook himself with a rumbling +growl which might have been either a growl of triumph or an invitation for +Muskwa to come to the feast. + +If it was an invitation, the little tan-faced cab did not wait for a +second. For the first time he smelled and tasted the warm blood of meat. +And this smell and taste had come at the psychological moment in his life, +just as it had come in Thor's life years before. All grizzlies are not +killers of big game. In fact, very few of them are. Most of them are +chiefly vegetarians, with a meat diet of smaller animals, such as gophers, +whistling marmots, and porcupines. Now and then chance makes of a grizzly a +hunter of caribou, goat, sheep, deer, and even moose. Such was Thor. And +such, in days to come, would Muskwa be, even though he was a black and not +of the family Ursus Horribilis Ord. + +For an hour the two feasted, not in the ravenous way of hungry dogs, but in +the slow and satisfying manner of gourmets. Muskwa, flat on his little +paunch, and almost between Thor's huge forearms, lapped up the blood and +snarled like a kitten as he ground tender flesh between his tiny teeth. +Thor, as in all his food-seeking, hunted first for the tidbits, though the +_sapoos oovin_ had made him as empty as a room without furniture. He pulled +out the thin leafs of fat from about the kidneys and bowels, and munched +at yard-long strings of it, his eyes half closed. + +The last of the sun faded away from the mountains, and darkness followed +swiftly after the twilight. It was dark when they finished, and little +Muskwa was as wide as he was long. + +Thor was the greatest of nature's conservators. With him nothing went to +waste that was good to eat, and at the present moment if the old bull +caribou had deliberately walked within his reach Thor in all probability +would not have killed him. He had food, and his business was to store that +food where it would be safe. + +He went back to the balsam thicket, but the gorged cub now made no effort +to follow him. He was vastly contented, and something told him that Thor +would not leave the meat. Ten minutes later Thor verified his judgment by +returning. In his huge jaws he caught the caribou at the back of the neck. +Then he swung himself partly sidewise and began dragging the carcass toward +the timber as a dog might have dragged a ten-pound slab of bacon. + +The young bull probably weighed four hundred pounds. Had he weighed eight +hundred, or even a thousand, Thor would still have dragged him--but had +the carcass weighed that much he would have turned straight around and +_backed_ with his load. + +In the edge of the balsams Thor had already found a hollow in the ground. +He thrust the carcass into this hollow, and while Muskwa watched with a +great and growing interest, he proceeded to cover it over with dry needles, +sticks, a rotting tree butt, and a log. He did not rear himself up and +leave his "mark" on a tree as a warning to other bears. He simply nosed +round for a bit, and then went out of the timber. + +Muskwa followed him now, and he had some trouble in properly navigating +himself under the handicap of his added weight. The stars were beginning to +fill the sky, and under these stars Thor struck straight up a steep and +rugged slope that led to the mountain-tops. Up and up he went, higher than +Muskwa had ever been. They crossed a patch of snow. And then they came to a +place where it seemed as if a volcano had disrupted the bowels of a +mountain. Man could hardly have travelled where Thor led Muskwa. + +At last he stopped. He was on a narrow ledge, with a perpendicular wall of +rock at his back. Under him fell away the chaos of torn-up rock and shale. +Far below the valley lay a black and bottomless pit. + +Thor lay down, and for the first time since his hurt in the other valley he +stretched out his head between his great arms, and heaved a deep and +restful sigh. Muskwa crept up close to him, so close that he was warmed by +Thor's body; and together they slept the deep and peaceful sleep of full +stomachs, while over them the stars grew brighter, and the moon came up to +flood the peaks and the valley in a golden splendour. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + + +Langdon and Bruce crossed the summit into the westward valley in the +afternoon of the day Thor left the clay wallow. It was two o'clock when +Bruce turned back for the three horses, leaving Langdon on a high ridge to +scour the surrounding country through his glasses. For two hours after the +packer returned with the outfit they followed slowly along the creek above +which the grizzly had travelled, and when they camped for the night they +were still two or three miles from the spot where Thor came upon Muskwa. +They had not yet found his tracks in the sand of the creek bottom. Yet +Bruce was confident. He knew that Thor had been following the crests of the +slopes. + +"If you go back out of this country an' write about bears, don't make a +fool o' yo'rself like most of the writin' fellows, Jimmy," he said, as they +sat back to smoke their pipes after supper. "Two years ago I took a +natcherlist out for a month, an' he was so tickled he said 'e'd send me a +bunch o' books about bears an' wild things. He did! I read 'em. I laughed +at first, an' then I got mad an' made a fire of 'em. Bears is cur'ous. +There's a mighty lot of interestin' things to say about 'em without making +a fool o' yo'rself. There sure is!" + +Langdon nodded. + +"One has to hunt and kill and hunt and kill for years before he discovers +the real pleasure in big game stalking," he said slowly, looking into the +fire. "And when he comes down to that real pleasure, the part of it that +absorbs him heart and soul, he finds that after all the big thrill isn't in +killing, but in letting live. I want this grizzly, and I'm going to have +him. I won't leave the mountains until I kill him. But, on the other hand, +we could have killed two other bears to-day, and I didn't take a shot. I'm +learning the game, Bruce--I'm beginning to taste the real pleasure of +hunting. And when one hunts in the right way one learns facts. You needn't +worry. I'm going to put only facts in what I write." + +Suddenly he turned and looked at Bruce. + +"What were some of the 'fool things' you read in those books?" he asked. + +Bruce blew out a cloud of smoke reflectively. + +"What made me maddest," he said, "was what those writer fellows said about +bears havin' 'marks.' Good Lord, accordin' to what they said all a bear has +to do is stretch 'imself up, put a mark on a tree, and that country is +his'n until a bigger bear comes along an' licks 'im. In one book I remember +where a grizzly rolled a log up under a tree so he could stand on it an' +put his mark above another grizzly's mark. Think of that! + +"No bear makes a mark that means anything. I've seen grizzlies bite hunks +out o' trees an' scratch 'em just as a cat might, an' in the summer when +they get itchy an' begin to lose their hair they stand up an' rub against +trees. They rub because they itch an' not because they're leavin' their +cards for other bears. Caribou an' moose an' deer do the same thing to get +the velvet off their horns. + +"Them same writers think every grizzly has his own range, an' they +don't--not by a long shot they don't! I've seen eight full-grown grizzlies +feedin' on the same slide! You remember, two years ago, we shot four +grizzlies in a little valley that wasn't a mile long. Now an' then there's +a boss among grizzlies, like this fellow we're after, but even he ain't +got his range alone. I'll bet there's twenty other bears in these two +valleys! An' that natcherlist I had two years ago couldn't tell a grizzly's +track from a black bear's track, an so 'elp me if he knew what a cinnamon +was!" + +He took his pipe from his mouth and spat truculently into the fire, and +Langdon knew that other things were coming. His richest hours were those +when the usually silent Bruce fell into these moods. + +"A cinnamon!" he growled. "Think of that, Jimmy--he thought there were such +a thing as a cinnamon bear! An' when I told him there wasn't, an' that the +cinnamon bear you read about is a black or a grizzly of a cinnamon colour, +he laughed at me--an' there I was born an' brung up among bears! His eyes +fair popped when I told him about the colour o' bears, an' he thought I was +feedin' him rope. I figgered afterward mebby that was why he sent me the +books. He wanted to show me he was right. + +"Jimmy, there ain't anything on earth that's got more colours than a bear! +I've seen black bears as white as snow, an' I've seen grizzlies almost as +black as a black bear. I've seen cinnamon black bears an' I've seen +cinnamon grizzlies, an' I've seen browns an' golds an' almost-yellows of +both kinds. They're as different in colour as they are in their natchurs +an' way of eatin'. + +"I figger most natcherlists go out an' get acquainted with one grizzly, an' +then they write up all grizzlies accordin' to that one. That ain't fair to +the grizzlies, darned if it is! There wasn't one of them books that didn't +say the grizzly wasn't the fiercest, man-eatingest cuss alive. He +ain't--unless you corner 'im. He's as cur'ous as a kid, an' he's +good-natured if you don't bother 'im. Most of 'em are vegetarians, but some +of 'em ain't. I've seen grizzlies pull down goat an' sheep an' caribou, an' +I've seen other grizzlies feed on the same slides with them animals an' +never make a move toward them. They're cur'ous, Jimmy. There's lots you can +say about 'em without makin' a fool o' yourself!" + +Bruce beat the ash out of his pipe as an emphasis to his final remark. As +he reloaded with fresh tobacco, Langdon said: + +"You can make up your mind this big fellow we are after is a game-killer, +Bruce." + +"You can't tell," replied Bruce. "Size don't always tell. I knew a grizzly +once that wasn't much bigger'n a dog, an' he was a game-killer. Hundreds of +animals are winter-killed in these mount'ins every year, an' when spring +comes the bears eat the carcasses; but old flesh don't make game-killers. +Sometimes it's born in a grizzly to be a killer, an' sometimes he becomes a +killer by chance. If he kills once, he'll kill again. + +"Once I was on the side of a mount'in an' saw a goat walk straight into the +face of a grizzly. The bear wasn't going to make a move, but the goat was +so scared it ran plump into the old fellow, and he killed it. He acted +mighty surprised for ten minutes afterward, an' he sniffed an' nosed around +the warm carcass for half an hour before he tore it open. That was his +first taste of what you might call live game. I didn't kill him, an' I'm +sure from that day on he was a big-game hunter." + +"I should think size would have something to do with it," argued Langdon. +"It seems to me that a bear which eats flesh would be bigger and stronger +than if he was a vegetarian." + +"That's one o' the cur'ous things you want to write about," replied Bruce, +with one of his odd chuckles. "Why is it a bear gets so fat he can hardly +walk along in September when he don't feed on much else but berries an' +ants an' grubs? Would you get fat on wild currants? + +"An' why does he grow so fast during the four or five months he's denned up +an' dead to the world without a mouthful to eat or drink? + +"Why is it that for a month, an' sometimes two months, the mother gives her +cubs milk while she's still what you might call asleep? Her nap ain't much +more'n two-thirds over when the cubs are born. + +"And why ain't them cubs bigger'n they are? That natcherlist laughed until +I thought he'd split when I told him a grizzly bear cub wasn't much +bigger'n a house-cat kitten when born!" + +"He was one of the few fools who aren't willing to learn--and yet you +cannot blame him altogether," said Langdon. "Four or five years ago I +wouldn't have believed it, Bruce. I couldn't actually believe it until we +dug out those cubs up the Athabasca--one weighed eleven ounces and the +other nine. You remember?" + +"An' they were a week old, Jimmy. An' the mother weighed eight hundred +pounds." + +For a few moments they both puffed silently on their pipes. + +"Almost--inconceivable," said Langdon then. "And yet it's true. And it +isn't a freak of nature, Bruce--it's simply a result of Nature's +far-sightedness. If the cubs were as large comparatively as a house-cat's +kittens the mother-bear could not sustain them during those weeks when she +eats and drinks nothing herself. There seems to be just one flaw in this +scheme: an ordinary black bear is only about half as large as a grizzly, +yet a black bear cub when born is much larger than a grizzly cub. Now why +the devil that should be--" + +Bruce interrupted his friend with a good-natured laugh. + +"That's easy--easy, Jimmy!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember last year when +we picked strawberries in the valley an' threw snowballs two hours later up +on the mountain? Higher you climb the colder it gets, don't it? Right +now--first day of July--you'd half freeze up on some of those peaks! A +grizzly dens high, Jimmy, and a black bear dens low. When the snow is four +feet deep up where the grizzly dens, the black bear can still feed in the +deep valleys an' thick timber. He goes to bed mebby a week or two weeks +later than the grizzly, an' he gets up in the spring a week or two weeks +earlier; he's fatter when he dens up an' he ain't so poor when he comes +out--an' so the mother's got more strength to give to her cubs. It looks +that way to me." + +"You've hit the nail on the head as sure as you're a year old!" cried +Langdon enthusiastically. "Bruce, I never thought of that!" + +"There's a good many things you don't think about until you run across +'em," said the mountaineer. "It's what you said a while ago--such things +are what makes huntin' a fine sport when you've learned huntin' ain't +always killin'--but lettin' live. One day I lay seven hours on a +mountain-top watchin' a band o' sheep at play, an' I had more fun than if +I'd killed the whole bunch." + +Bruce rose to his feet and stretched himself, an after-supper operation +that always preceded his announcement that he was going to turn in. + +"Fine day to-morrow," he said, yawning. "Look how white the snow is on the +peaks." + +"Bruce--" + +"What?" + +"How heavy is this bear we're after?" + +"Twelve hundred pounds--mebby a little more. I didn't have the pleasure of +lookin' at him so close as you did, Jimmy. If I had we'd been dryin' his +skin now!" + +"And he's in his prime?" + +"Between eight and twelve years old, I'd say, by the way he went up the +slope. An old bear don't roll so easy." + +"You've run across some pretty old bears, Bruce?" + +"So old some of 'em needed crutches," said Bruce, unlacing his boots. "I've +shot bears so old they'd lost their teeth." + +"How old?" + +"Thirty--thirty-five--mebby forty years. Good-night, Jimmy!" + +"Good-night, Bruce!" + +Langdon was awakened some time hours later by a deluge of rain that brought +him out of his blankets with a yell to Bruce. They had not put up their +tepee, and a moment later he heard Bruce anathematizing their idiocy. The +night was as black as a cavern, except when it was broken by lurid flashes +of lightning, and the mountains rolled and rumbled with deep thunder. +Disentangling himself from his drenched blanket, Langdon stood up. A glare +of lightning revealed Bruce sitting in his blankets, his hair dripping down +over his long, lean face, and at sight of him Langdon laughed outright. + +[Illustration: "They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their +saddles to look at every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not +gone a quarter of a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation and +stopped."] + +"Fine day to-morrow," he taunted, repeating Bruce's words of a few hours +before. "Look how white the snow is on the peaks!" + +Whatever Bruce said was drowned in a crash of thunder. + +Langdon waited for another lightning flash and then dove for the shelter of +a thick balsam. Under this he crouched for five or ten minutes, when the +rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The thunder rolled southward, and +the lightning went with it. In the darkness he heard Bruce fumbling +somewhere near. Then a match was lighted, and he saw his comrade looking at +his watch. + +"Pretty near three o'clock," he said. "Nice shower, wasn't it?" + +"I rather expected it," replied Langdon carelessly. "You know, Bruce, +whenever the snow on the peaks is so white--" + +"Shut up--an' let's get a fire! Good thing we had sense enough to cover our +grub with the blankets. Are yo' wet?" + +Langdon was wringing the water from his hair. He felt like a drowned rat. + +"No. I was under a thick balsam, and prepared for it. When you called my +attention to the whiteness of the snow on the peaks I knew--" + +"Forget the snow," growled Bruce, and Langdon could hear him breaking off +dry pitch-filled twigs under a spruce. + +He went to help him, and five minutes later they had a fire going. The +light illumined their faces, and each saw that the other was not unhappy. +Bruce was grinning under his sodden hair. + +"I was dead asleep when it came," he explained. "An' I thought I'd fallen +in a lake. I woke up tryin' to swim." + +An early July rain at three o'clock in the morning in the northern British +Columbia mountains is not as warm as it might be, and for the greater part +of an hour Langdon and Bruce continued to gather fuel and dry their +blankets and clothing. It was five o'clock before they had breakfast, and a +little after six when they started with their two saddles and single pack +up the valley. Bruce had the satisfaction of reminding Langdon that his +prediction had come true for a glorious day followed the thunder shower. + +Under them the meadows were dripping. The valley purred louder with the +music of the swollen streamlets. From the mountain-tops a half of last +night's snow was gone, and to Langdon the flowers seemed taller and more +beautiful. The air that drifted through the valley was laden with the +sweetness and freshness of the morning, and over and through it all the sun +shone in a warm and golden sea. + +They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look at +every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter of +a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation, and stopped. He pointed to a +round patch of sand in which Thor had left one of his huge footprints. +Langdon dismounted and measured it. + +"It's he!" he cried, and there was a thrill of excitement in his voice. +"Hadn't we better go on without the horses, Bruce?" + +The mountaineer shook his head. But before he voiced an opinion he got down +from his horse and scanned the sides of the mountains ahead of them through +his long telescope. Langdon used his double-barrelled hunting glass. They +discovered nothing. + +"He's still in the creek-bottom, an' he's probably three or four miles +ahead," said Bruce. "We'll ride on a couple o' miles an' find a place good +for the horses. The grass an' bushes will be dry then." + +It was easy to follow Thor's course after this, for he had hung close to +the creek. Within three or four hundred yards of the great mass of boulders +where the grizzly had come upon the tan-faced cub was a small copse of +spruce in the heart of a grassy dip, and here the hunters stripped and +hobbled their horses. Twenty minutes later they had come up cautiously to +the soft carpet of sand where Thor and Muskwa had become acquainted. The +heavy rain had obliterated the cub's tiny footprints, but the sand was cut +up by the grizzly's tracks. The packer's teeth gleamed as he looked at +Langdon. + +"He ain't very far," he whispered. "Shouldn't wonder if he spent the night +pretty close an' he's mooshing on just ahead of us." + +He wet a finger and held it above his head to get the wind. He nodded +significantly. + +"We'd better get up on the slopes," he said. + +They made their way around the end of the boulders, holding their guns in +readiness, and headed for a small coulee that promised an easy ascent of +the first slope. At the mouth of this both paused again. Its bottom was +covered with sand, and in this sand were the tracks of another bear. Bruce +dropped on his knees. + +"It's another grizzly," said Langdon. + +"No, it ain't; it's a black," said Bruce. "Jimmy, can't I ever knock into +yo'r head the difference between a black an' a grizzly track? This is the +hind foot, an' the heel is round. If it was a grizzly it would be pointed. +An' it's too broad an' clubby f'r a grizzly, an' the claws are too long f'r +the length of the foot. It's a black as plain as the nose on yo'r face!" + +"And going our way," said Langdon. "Come on!" Two hundred yards up the +coulee the bear had climbed out on the slope. Langdon and Bruce followed. +In the thick grass and hard shale of the first crest of the slope the +tracks were quickly lost, but the hunters were not much interested in these +tracks now. From the height at which they were travelling they had a +splendid view below them. + +Not once did Bruce take his eyes from the creek bottom. He knew that it was +down there they would find the grizzly, and he was interested in nothing +else just at present. Langdon, on the other hand, was interested in +everything that might be living or moving about them; every mass of rock +and thicket of thorn held possibilities for him, and his eyes were questing +the higher ridges and the peaks as well as their immediate trail. It was +because of this that he saw something which made him suddenly grip his +companion's arm and pull him down beside him on the ground. + +"Look!" he whispered, stretching out an arm. + +From his kneeling posture Bruce stared. His eyes fairly popped in +amazement. Not more than thirty feet above them was a big rock shaped like +a dry-goods box, and protruding from behind the farther side of this rock +was the rear half of a bear. It was a black bear, its glossy coat shining +in the sunlight. For a full half minute Bruce continued to stare. Then he +grinned. + +"Asleep--dead asleep! Jimmy--you want to see some fun?" + +He put down his gun and drew out his long hunting knife. He chuckled softly +as he felt of its keen point. + +"If you never saw a bear run yo'r goin' to see one run now, Jimmy! You stay +here!" + +He began crawling slowly and quietly up the slope toward the rock, while +Langdon held his breath in anticipation of what was about to happen. Twice +Bruce looked back, and he was grinning broadly. There was undoubtedly going +to be a very much astonished bear racing for the tops of the Rocky +Mountains in another moment or two, and between this thought and the +picture of Bruce's long lank figure snaking its way upward foot by foot the +humour of the situation fell upon Langdon. Finally Bruce reached the rock. +The long knife-blade gleamed in the sun; then it shot forward and a half +inch of steel buried itself in the bear's rump. What followed in the next +thirty seconds Langdon would never forget. The bear made no movement. Bruce +jabbed again. Still there was no movement, and at the second thrust Bruce +remained as motionless as the rock against which he was crouching, and his +mouth was wide open as he stared down at Langdon. + +"Now what the devil do you think of that?" he said, and rose slowly to his +feet. "He ain't asleep--he's dead!" + +Langdon ran up to him, and they went around the end of the rock. Bruce +still held the knife in his hand and there was an odd expression in his +face--a look that put troubled furrows between his eyes as he stood for a +moment without speaking. + +"I never see anything like that before," he said, slowly slipping his knife +in its sheath. "It's a she-bear, an' she had cubs--pretty young cubs, too, +from the looks o' her.' + +"She was after a whistler, and undermined the rock," added Langdon. +"Crushed to death, eh, Bruce?" + +Bruce nodded. + +"I never see anything like it before," he repeated. "I've wondered why they +didn't get killed by diggin' under the rocks--but I never see it. Wonder +where the cubs are? Poor little devils!" + +He was on his knees examining the dead mother's teats. + +"She didn't have more'n two--mebby one," he said, rising. "About three +months old." + +"And they'll starve?" + +"If there was only one he probably will. The little cuss had so much milk +he didn't have to forage for himself. Cubs is a good deal like babies--you +can wean 'em early or you can ha'f grow 'em on pap. An' this is what comes +of runnin' off an' leavin' your babies alone," moralized Bruce. "If you +ever git married, Jimmy, don't you let yo'r wife do it. Sometimes th' +babies burn up or break their necks!" + +Again he turned along the crest of the slope, his eyes once more searching +the valley, and Langdon followed a step behind him, wondering what had +become of the cub. + +And Muskwa, still slumbering on the rock-ledge with Thor, was dreaming of +the mother who lay crushed under the rock on the slope, and as he dreamed +he whimpered softly. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + + +The ledge where Thor and Muskwa lay caught the first gleams of the morning +sun, and as the sun rose higher the ledge grew warmer and warmer, and Thor, +when he awoke, merely stretched himself and made no effort to rise. After +his wounds and the _sapoos oowin_ and the feast in the valley he was +feeling tremendously fine and comfortable, and he was in no very great +haste to leave this golden pool of sunlight. For a long time he looked +steadily and curiously at Muskwa. In the chill of the night the little cub +had snuggled up close between the warmth of Thor's huge forearms, and still +lay there, whimpering in his babyish way as he dreamed. + +After a time Thor did something that he had never been guilty of before--he +sniffed gently at the soft little ball between his paws, and just once his +big flat red tongue touched the cub's face; and Muskwa, perhaps still +dreaming of his mother, snuggled closer. As little white children have won +the hearts of savages who were about to slay them, so Muskwa had come +strangely into the life of Thor. + +The big grizzly was still puzzled. Not only was he struggling against an +unaccountable dislike of all cubs in general, but also against the firmly +established habits of ten years of aloneness. Yet he was beginning to +comprehend that there was something very pleasant and companionable in the +nearness of Muskwa. With the coming of man a new emotion had entered into +his being--perhaps only the spark of an emotion. Until one has enemies, and +faces dangers, one cannot fully appreciate friendship--and it may be that +Thor, who now confronted real enemies and a real danger for the first time, +was beginning to understand what friendship meant. Also it was drawing near +to his mating season, and about Muskwa was the scent of his mother. And so +as Muskwa continued to bask and dream in the sunshine, there was a growing +content in Thor. + +He looked down into the valley, shimmering in the wet of the night's rain, +and he saw nothing to rouse discontent; he sniffed the air, and it was +filled with the unpolluted sweetness of growing grass, of flowers, and +balsam, and water fresh from the clouds. + +Thor began to lick his wound, and it was this movement that roused Muskwa. +The cub lifted his head. He blinked at the sun for a moment--then rubbed +his face sleepily with his tiny paw and stood up. Like all youngsters, he +was ready for another day, in spite of the hardships and toil of the +preceding one. + +While Thor still lay restfully looking down into the valley, Muskwa began +investigating the crevices in the rock wall, and tumbled about among the +boulders on the ledge. + +From the valley Thor turned his eyes to the cub. There was curiosity in his +attitude as he watched Muskwa's antics and queer tumblings among the rocks. +Then he rose cumbrously and shook himself. + +For at least five minutes he stood looking down into the valley, and +sniffing the wind, as motionless as though carven out of rock. And Muskwa, +perking up his little ears, came and stood beside him, his sharp little +eyes peering from Thor off into sunlit space, and then back to Thor again, +as if wondering what was about to happen next. + +The big grizzly answered the question. He turned along the rock shelf and +began descending into the valley. Muskwa tagged behind, just as he had +followed the day before. The cub felt twice as big and fully twice as +strong as yesterday, and he no longer was obsessed by that uncomfortable +yearning for his mother's milk. Thor had graduated him quickly, and he was +a meat-eater. And he knew they were returning to where they had feasted +last night. + +They had descended half the distance of the slope when the wind brought +something to Thor. A deep-chested growl rolled out of him as he stopped for +a moment, the thick ruff about his neck bristling ominously. The scent he +had caught came from the direction of his cache, and it was an odour which +he was not in a humour to tolerate in this particular locality. Strongly he +smelled the presence of another bear. This would not have excited him under +ordinary conditions, and it would not have excited him now had the presence +been that of a female bear. But the scent was that of a he-bear, and it +drifted strongly up a rock-cut ravine that ran straight down toward the +balsam patch in which he had hidden the caribou. + +Thor stopped to ask himself no questions. Growling under his breath, he +began to descend so swiftly that Muskwa had great difficulty in keeping up +with him. Not until they came to the edge of the plain that overlooked the +lake and the balsams did they stop. Muskwa's little jaws hung open as he +panted. Then his ears pricked forward, he stared, and suddenly every muscle +in his small body became rigid. + +Seventy-five yards below them their cache was being outraged. The robber +was a huge black bear. He was a splendid outlaw. He was, perhaps, three +hundred pounds lighter than Thor, but he stood almost as high, and in the +sunlight his coat shone with the velvety gloss of sable--the biggest and +boldest bear that had entered Thor's domain in many a day. He had pulled +the caribou carcass from its hiding-place and was eating as Thor and Muskwa +looked down on him. + +After a moment Muskwa peered up questioningly at Thor. "What are we going +to do?" he seemed to ask. "He's got our dinner!" + +Slowly and very deliberately Thor began picking his way down those last +seventy-five yards. He seemed to be in no hurry bow. + +When he reached the edge of the meadow, perhaps thirty or forty yards from +the big invader, he stopped again. There was nothing particularly ugly in +his attitude, but the ruff about his shoulders was bigger than Muskwa had +ever seen it before. + +The black looked up from his feast, and for a full half minute they eyed +each other. In a slow, pendulum-like motion the grizzly's huge head swung +from side to side; the black was as motionless as a sphinx. + +Four or five feet from Thor stood Muskwa. In a small-boyish sort of way he +knew that something was going to happen soon, and in that same small-boyish +way he was ready to put his stub of a tail between his legs and flee with +Thor, or advance and fight with him. His eyes were curiously attracted by +that pendulum-like swing of Thor's head. All nature understood that swing. +Man had learned to understand it. "Look out when a grizzly rolls his head!" +is the first commandment of the bear-hunter in the mountains. + +The big black understood, and like other bears in Thor's domain, he should +have slunk a little backward, turned about and made his exit. Thor gave +him ample time. But the black was a new bear in the valley--and he was not +only that: he was a powerful bear, and unwhipped; and he had overlorded a +range of his own. He stood his ground. + +The first growl of menace that passed between the two came from the black. + +Again Thor advanced, slowly and deliberately--straight for the robber. +Muskwa followed halfway and then stopped and squatted himself on his belly. +Ten feet from the carcass Thor paused again; and now his huge head swung +more swiftly back and forth, and a low rumbling thunder came from between +his half-open jaws. The black's ivory fangs snarled; Muskwa whined. + +Again Thor advanced, a foot at a time, and now his gaping jaws almost +touched the ground, and his huge body was hunched low. + +When no more than the length of a yardstick separated them there came a +pause. For perhaps thirty seconds they were like two angry men, each trying +to strike terror to the other's heart by the steadiness of his look. + +Muskwa shook as if with the ague, and whined--softly and steadily he +whined, and the whine reached Thor's ears. What happened after that began +so quickly that Muskwa was struck dumb with terror, and he lay flattened +out on the earth as motionless as a stone. + +With that grinding, snarling grizzly roar, which is unlike any other animal +cry in the world, Thor flung himself at the black. The black reared a +little--just enough to fling himself backward easily as they came together +breast to breast. He rolled upon his back, but Thor was too old a fighter +to be caught by that first vicious ripping stroke of the black's hind foot, +and he buried his four long flesh-rending teeth to the bone of his enemy's +shoulder. At the same time he struck a terrific cutting stroke with his +left paw. + +Thor was a digger, and his claws were dulled; the black was not a digger, +but a tree-climber, and his claws were like knives. And like knives they +buried themselves in Thor's wounded shoulder, and the blood spurted forth +afresh. + +With a roar that seemed to set the earth trembling, the huge grizzly lunged +backward and reared himself to his full nine feet. He had given the black +warning. Even after their first tussle his enemy might have retreated and +he would not have pursued. Now it was a fight to the death! The black had +done more than ravage his cache. He had opened the man-wound! + +A minute before Thor had been fighting for law and right--without great +animosity or serious desire to kill. Now, however, he was terrible. His +mouth was open, and it was eight inches from jaw to jaw; his lips were +drawn up until his white teeth and his red gums were bared; muscles stood +out like cords on his nostrils, and between his eyes was a furrow like the +cleft made by an axe in the trunk of a pine. His eyes shone with the glare +of red garnets, their greenish-black pupils almost obliterated by the +ferocious fire that was in them. Man, facing Thor in this moment, would +have known that only one would come out alive. + +Thor was not a "stand-up" fighter. For perhaps six or seven seconds he +remained erect, but as the black advanced a step he dropped quickly to all +fours. + +The black met him halfway, and after this--for many minutes--Muskwa hugged +closer and closer to the earth while with gleaming eyes he watched the +battle. It was such a fight as only the jungles and the mountains see, and +the roar of it drifted up and down the valley. + +Like human creatures the two giant beasts used their powerful forearms +while with fangs and hind feet they ripped and tore. For two minutes they +were in a close and deadly embrace, both rolling on the ground, now one +under and then the other. The black clawed ferociously; Thor used chiefly +his teeth and his terrible right hind foot. With his forearms he made no +effort to rend the black, but used them to hold and throw his enemy. He was +fighting to get _under_, as he had flung himself under the caribou he had +disembowelled. + +Again and again Thor buried his long fangs in the other's flesh; but in +fang-fighting the black was even quicker than he, and his right shoulder +was being literally torn to pieces when their jaws met in midair. Muskwa +heard the clash of them; he heard the grind of teeth on teeth, the +sickening crunch of bone. + +Then suddenly the black was flung upon his side as though his neck had been +broken, and Thor was at his throat. Still the black fought, his gaping and +bleeding jaws powerless now as the grizzly closed his own huge jaws on the +jugular. + +Muskwa stood up. He was shivering still, but with a new and strange +emotion. This was not play, as he and his mother had played. For the first +time he was looking upon _battle_, and the thrill of it sent the blood hot +and fast through his little body. With a faint, puppyish snarl he darted +in. His teeth sank futilely into the thick hair and tough hide of the +black's rump. He pulled and he snarled; he braced himself with his forefeet +and tugged at his mouthful of hair, filled with a blind and unaccountable +rage. + +The black twisted himself upon his back, and one of his hind feet raked +Thor from chest to vent. That stroke would have disembowelled a caribou or +a deer; it left a red, open, bleeding wound three feet long on Thor. + +Before it could be repeated, the grizzly swung himself sidewise, and the +second blow caught Muskwa. The flat of the black's foot struck him, and for +twenty feet he was sent like a stone out of a sling-shot. He was not cut, +but he was stunned. + +In that same moment Thor released his hold on his enemy's throat, and +swung two or three feet to one side. He was dripping blood. The black's +shoulders, chest, and neck were saturated with it; huge chunks had been +torn from his body. He made an effort to rise, and Thor was on him again. + +This time Thor got his deadliest of all holds. His great jaws clamped in a +death-grip over the upper part of the black's nose. One terrific grinding +crunch, and the fight was over. The black could not have lived after that. +But this fact Thor did not know. It was now easy for him to rip with those +knifelike claws on his hind feet. He continued to maul and tear for ten +minutes after the black was dead. + +When Thor finally quit the scene of battle was terrible to look upon. The +ground was torn up and red; it was covered with great strips of black hide +and pieces of flesh; and the black, on the under side, was torn open from +end to end. + +Two miles away, tense and white and scarcely breathing as they looked +through their glasses, Langdon and Bruce crouched beside a rock on the +mountainside. At that distance they had witnessed the terrific spectacle, +but they could not see the cub. As Thor stood panting and bleeding over +his lifeless enemy, Langdon lowered his glass. + +"My God!" he breathed. + +Bruce sprang to his feet. + +"Come on!" he cried. "The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our +grizzly!" + +And down in the meadow Muskwa ran to Thor with a bit of warm black hide in +his mouth, and Thor lowered his great bleeding head, and just once his red +tongue shot out and caressed Muskwa's face. For the little tan-faced cub +had proved himself; and it may be that Thor had seen and understood. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + + +Neither Thor nor Muskwa went near the caribou meat after the big fight. +Thor was in no condition to eat, and Muskwa was so filled with excitement +and trembling that he could not swallow a mouthful. He continued to worry a +strip of black hide, snarling and growling in his puny way, as though +finishing what the other had begun. + +For many minutes the grizzly stood with his big head drooping, and the +blood gathered in splashes under him. He was facing down the valley. There +was almost no wind--so little that it was scarcely possible to tell from +which direction it came. Eddies of it were caught in the coulees, and +higher up about the shoulders and peaks it blew stronger. Now and then one +of these higher movements of air would sweep gently downward and flow +through the valley for a few moments in a great noiseless breath that +barely stirred the tops of the balsams and spruce. + +One of these mountain-breaths came as Thor faced the east. And with it, +faint and terrible, came the _man-smell_! + +Thor roused himself with a sudden growl from the lethargy into which he had +momentarily allowed himself to sink. His relaxed muscles hardened. He +raised his head and sniffed the wind. + +Muskwa ceased his futile fight with the bit of hide and also sniffed the +air. It was warm with the man-scent, for Langdon and Bruce were running and +sweating, and the odour of man-sweat drifts heavy and far. It filled Thor +with a fresh rage. For a second time it came when he was hurt and bleeding. +He had already associated the man-smell with hurt, and now it was doubly +impressed upon him. He turned his head and snarled at the mutilated body of +the big black. Then he snarled menacingly in the face of the wind. He was +in no humour to run away. In these moments, if Bruce and Langdon had +appeared over the rise, Thor would have charged with that deadly ferocity +which lead can scarcely stop, and which has given to his kind their +terrible name. + +But the breath of air passed, and there followed a peaceful calm. The +valley was filled with the purr of running water; from their rocks the +whistlers called forth their soft notes; up on the green plain the +ptarmigan were fluting, and rising in white-winged flocks. These things +soothed Thor, as a woman's gentle hand quiets an angry man. For five +minutes he continued to rumble and growl as he tried vainly to catch the +scent again; but the rumbling and growling grew steadily less, and finally +he turned and walked slowly toward the coulee down which he and Muskwa had +come a little while before. Muskwa followed. + +[Illustration: "'Come on!' he cried. 'The black's dead! If we hustle we can +get our grizzly!'"] + +The coulee, or ravine, hid them from the valley as they ascended. Its +bottom was covered with rock and shale. The wounds Thor had received in the +fight, unlike bullet wounds, had stopped bleeding after the first few +minutes, and he left no telltale red spots behind. The ravine took them to +the first chaotic upheaval of rock halfway up the mountain, and here they +were still more lost to view from below. + +They stopped and drank at a pool formed by the melting snow on the peaks, +and then went on. Thor did not stop when they reached the ledge on which +they had slept the previous night. And this time Muskwa was not tired when +they reached the ledge. Two days had made a big change in the little +tan-faced cub. He was not so round and puffy. And he was stronger--a great +deal stronger; he was becoming hardened, and under Thor's strenuous +tutelage he was swiftly graduating from cubhood to young bearhood. + +It was evident that Thor had followed this ledge at some previous time. He +knew where he was going. It continued up and up, and finally seemed to end +in the face of a precipitous wall of rock. Thor's trail led him directly to +a great crevice, hardly wider than his body, and through this he went, +emerging at the edge of the wildest and roughest slide of rock that Muskwa +had ever seen. It looked like a huge quarry, and it broke through the +timber far below them, and reached almost to the top of the mountain above. + +For Muskwa to make his way over the thousand pitfalls of that chaotic +upheaval was an impossibility, and as Thor began to climb over the first +rocks the cub stopped and whined. It was the first time he had given up, +and when he saw that Thor gave no attention to his whine, terror seized +upon him and he cried for help as loudly as he could while he hunted +frantically for a path up through the rocks. + +Utterly oblivious of Muskwa's predicament, Thor continued until he was +fully thirty yards away. Then he stopped, faced about deliberately, and +waited. + +This gave Muskwa courage, and he scratched and clawed and even used his +chin and teeth in his efforts to follow. It took him ten minutes to reach +Thor, and he was completely winded. Then, all at once, his terror vanished. +For Thor stood on a white, narrow path that was as solid as a floor. + +The path was perhaps eighteen inches wide. It was unusual--and +mysterious-looking, and strangely out of place where it was. It looked as +though an army of workmen had come along with hammers and had broken up +tons of sandstone and slate, and then filled in between the boulders with +rubble, making a smooth and narrow road that in places was ground to the +fineness of powder and the hardness of cement. But instead of hammers, the +hoofs of a hundred or perhaps a thousand generations of mountain sheep had +made the trail. It was the sheep-path over the range. The first band of +bighorn may have blazed the way before Columbus discovered America; surely +it had taken a great many years for hoofs to make that smooth road among +the rocks. + +Thor used the path as one of his highways from valley to valley, and there +were other creatures of the mountains who used it as well as he, and more +frequently. As he stood waiting for Muskwa to get his wind they both heard +an odd chuckling sound approaching them from above. Forty or fifty feet up +the slide the path twisted and descended a little depression behind a huge +boulder, and out from behind this boulder came a big porcupine. + +There is a law throughout the North that a man shall not kill a porcupine. +He is the "lost man's friend," for the wandering and starving prospector or +hunter can nearly always find a porcupine, if nothing else; and a child can +kill him. He is the humourist of the wilderness--the happiest, the +best-natured, and altogether the mildest-mannered beast that ever drew +breath. He talks and chatters and chuckles incessantly, and when he travels +he walks like a huge animated pincushion; he is oblivious of everything +about him as though asleep. + +As this particular "porky" advanced upon Muskwa and Thor, he was communing +happily with himself, the chuckling notes he made sounding very much like a +baby's cooing. He was enormously fat, and as he waddled slowly along his +side and tail quills clicked on the stones. His eyes were on the path at +his feet. He was deeply absorbed in nothing at all, and he was within five +feet of Thor before he saw the grizzly. Then, in a wink, he humped himself +into a ball. For a few seconds he scolded vociferously. After that he was +as silent as a sphinx, his little red eyes watching the big bear. + +Thor did not want to kill him, but the path was narrow, and he was ready to +go on. He advanced a foot or two, and Porky turned his back toward Thor and +made ready to deliver a swipe with his powerful tail. In that tail were +several hundred quills. As Thor had more than once come into contact with +porcupine quills, he hesitated. + +Muskwa was looking on curiously. He still had his lesson to learn, for the +quill he had once picked up in his foot had been a loose quill. But since +the porcupine seemed to puzzle Thor, the cub turned and made ready to go +back along the slide if it became necessary. Thor advanced another foot, +and with a sudden _chuck, chuck, chuck_--the most vicious sound he was +capable of making--Porky advanced backward and his broad, thick tail +whipped through the air with a force that would have driven quills a +quarter of an inch into the butt of a tree. Having missed, he humped +himself again, and Thor stepped out on the boulder and circled around him. +There he waited for Muskwa. + +Porky was immensely satisfied with his triumph. He unlimbered himself; his +quills settled a bit; and he advanced toward Muskwa, at the same time +resuming his good-natured chuckling. Instinctively the cub hugged the edge +of the path, and in doing so slipped over the edge. By the time he had +scrambled up again Porky was four or five feet beyond him and totally +absorbed in his travel. + +The adventure of the sheep-trail was not yet quite over, for scarcely had +Porky maneuvered himself to safety when around the edge of the big boulder +above appeared a badger, hot on the fresh and luscious scent of his +favourite dinner, a porcupine. This worthless outlaw of the mountains was +three times as large as Muskwa, and every ounce of him was fighting muscle +and bone and claw and sharp teeth. He had a white mark on his nose and +forehead; his legs were short and thick; his tail was bushy, and the claws +on his front feet were almost as long as a bear's. Thor greeted him with an +immediate growl of warning, and the badger scooted back up the trail in +fear of his life. + +Meanwhile Porky lumbered slowly along in quest of new feeding-grounds, +talking and singing to himself, forgetting entirely what had happened a +minute or two before, and unconscious of the fact that Thor had saved him +from a death as certain as though he had fallen over a thousand-foot +precipice. + +For nearly a mile Thor and Muskwa followed the Bighorn Highway before its +winding course brought them at last to the very top of the range. They were +fully three-quarters of a mile above the creek-bottom, and so narrow in +places was the crest of the mountain along which the sheep-trail led that +they could look down into both valleys. + +To Muskwa it was all a greenish golden haze below him; the depths seemed +illimitable; the forest along the stream was only a black streak, and the +parklike clumps of balsams and cedars on the farther slopes looked like +very small bosks of thorn or buffalo willow. + +Up here the wind was blowing, too. It whipped him with a strange +fierceness, and half a dozen times he felt the mysterious and very +unpleasant chill of snow under his feet. Twice a great bird swooped near +him. It was the biggest bird he had ever seen--an eagle. The second time it +came so near that he heard the _beat_ of it, and saw its great, fierce head +and lowering talons. + +Thor whirled toward the eagle and growled. If Muskwa had been alone, the +cub would have gone sailing off in those murderous talons. As it was, the +third time the eagle circled it was down the slope from them. It was after +other game. The scent of the game came to Thor and Muskwa, and they +stopped. + +Perhaps a hundred yards below them was a shelving slide of soft shale, and +on this shale, basking in the warm sun after their morning's feed lower +down, was a band of sheep. There were twenty or thirty of them, mostly ewes +and their lambs. Three huge old rams were lying on a patch of snow farther +to the east. + +With his six-foot wings spread out like twin fans, the eagle continued to +circle. He was as silent as a feather floating with the wind. The ewes and +even the old bighorns were unconscious of his presence over them. Most of +the lambs were lying close to their mothers, but two or three of a livelier +turn of mind were wandering over the shale and occasionally hopping about +in playful frolic. + +The eagle's fierce eyes were upon these youngsters. Suddenly he drifted +farther away--a full rifle-shot distance straight in the face of the wind; +then he swung gracefully, and came back with the wind. And as he came, his +wings apparently motionless, he gathered greater and greater speed, and +shot like a rocket straight for the lambs. He seemed to have come and gone +like a great shadow, and just one plaintive, agonized bleat marked his +passing-and two little lambs were left where there had been three. + +There was instant commotion on the slide. The ewes began to run back and +forth and bleat excitedly. The three rams sprang up and stood like rocks, +their huge battlemented heads held high as they scanned the depths below +them and the peaks above for new danger. + +One of them saw Thor, and the deep, grating bleat of warning that rattled +out of his throat a hunter could have heard a mile away. As he gave his +danger signal he started down the slide, and in another moment an avalanche +of hoofs was clattering down the steep shale slope, loosening small stones +and boulders that went tumbling and crashing down the mountain with a din +that steadily increased as they set others in motion on the way. This was +all mighty interesting to Muskwa, and he would have stood for a long time +looking down for other things to happen if Thor had not led him on. + +After a time the Bighorn Highway began to descend into the valley from the +upper end of which Thor had been driven by Langdon's first shots. They were +now six or eight miles north of the timber in which the hunters had made +their permanent camp, and headed for the lower tributaries of the Skeena. + +Another hour of travel, and the bare shale and gray crags were above them +again, and they were on the green slopes. After the rocks, and the cold +winds, and the terrible glare he had seen in the eagle's eyes, the warm and +lovely valley into which they were descending lower and lower was a +paradise to Muskwa. + +It was evident that Thor had something in his mind. He was not rambling +now. He cut off the ends and the bulges of the slopes. With his head +hunched low he travelled steadily northward, and a compass could not have +marked out a straighter line for the lower waters of the Skeena. He was +tremendously businesslike, and Muskwa, tagging bravely along behind, +wondered if he were never going to stop; if there could be anything in the +whole wide world finer for a big grizzly and a little tan-faced cub than +these wonderful sunlit slopes which Thor seemed in such great haste to +leave. + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + + +If it had not been for Langdon, this day of the fight between the two bears +would have held still greater excitement and another and deadlier peril for +Thor and Muskwa. Three minutes after the hunters had arrived breathless and +sweating upon the scene of the sanguinary conflict Bruce was ready and +anxious to continue the pursuit of Thor. He knew the big grizzly could not +be far away; he was certain that Thor had gone up the mountain. He found +signs of the grizzly's feet in the gravel of the coulee at just about the +time Thor and the tan-faced cub struck the Bighorn Highway. + +His arguments failed to move Langdon. Stirred to the depth of his soul by +what he had seen, and what he saw about him now, the hunter-naturalist +refused to leave the blood-stained and torn-up arena in which the grizzly +and the black had fought their duel. + +"If I knew that I was not going to fire a single shot, I would travel five +thousand miles to see this," he said. "It's worth thinking about, and +looking over, Bruce. The grizzly won't spoil. This will--in a few hours. If +there's a story here we can dig out I want it." + +Again and again Langdon went over the battlefield, noting the ripped-up +ground, the big spots of dark-red stain, the strips of flayed skin, and the +terrible wounds on the body of the dead black. For half an hour Bruce paid +less attention to these things than he did to the carcass of the caribou. +At the end of that time he called Langdon to the edge of the clump of +balsams. + +"You wanted the story," he said, "an' I've got it for you, Jimmy." + +He entered the balsams and Langdon followed him. A few steps under the +cover Bruce halted and pointed to the hollow in which Thor had cached his +meat. The hollow was stained with blood. + +"You was right in your guess, Jimmy," he said. "Our grizzly is a +meat-eater. Last night he killed a caribou out there in the meadow. I know +it was the grizzly that killed 'im an' not the black, because the tracks +along the edge of the timber are grizzly tracks. Come on. I'll show you +where 'e jumped the caribou!" + +He led the way back into the meadow, and pointed out where Thor had dragged +down the young bull. There were bits of flesh and a great deal of stain +where he and Muskwa had feasted. + +"He hid the carcass in the balsams after he had filled himself," went on +Bruce. "This morning the black came along, smelled the meat, an' robbed the +cache. Then back come the grizzly after his morning feed, an' that's what +happened! There's yo'r story, Jimmy." + +"And--he may come back again?" asked Langdon. + +"Not on your life, he won't!" cried Bruce. "He wouldn't touch that carcass +ag'in if he was starving. Just now this place is like poison to him." + +After that Bruce left Langdon to meditate alone on the field of battle +while he began trailing Thor. In the shade of the balsams Langdon wrote for +a steady hour, frequently rising to establish new facts or verify others +already discovered. Meanwhile the mountaineer made his way foot by foot up +the coulee. Thor had left no blood, but where others would have seen +nothing Bruce detected the signs of his passing. When he returned to where +Langdon was completing his notes, his face wore a look of satisfaction. + +"He went over the mount'in," he said briefly. + +It was noon before they climbed over the volcanic quarry of rock and +followed the Bighorn Highway to the point where Thor and Muskwa had watched +the eagle and the sheep. They ate their lunch here, and scanned the valley +through their glasses. Bruce was silent for a long time. Then he lowered +his telescope, and turned to Langdon. + +"I guess I've got his range pretty well figgered out," he said. "He runs +these two valleys, an' we've got our camp too far south. See that timber +down there? That's where our camp should be. What do you say to goin' back +over the divide with our horses an' moving up here?" + +"And leave our grizzly until to-morrow?" + +Bruce nodded. + +"We can't go after 'im and leave our horses tied up in the creek-bottom +back there." + +Langdon boxed his glasses and rose to his feet. Suddenly he grew rigid. + +"What was that?" + +"I didn't hear anything," said Bruce. + +For a moment they stood side by side, listening. A gust of wind whistled +about their ears. It died away. + +"Hear it!" whispered Langdon, and his voice was filled with a sudden +excitement. + +"The dogs!" cried Bruce. + +"Yes, the dogs!" + +They leaned forward, their ears turned to the south, and faintly there came +to them the distant, thrilling tongue of the Airedales! + +Metoosin had come, and he was seeking them in the valley! + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + + +Thor was on what the Indians call a _pimootao_. His brute mind had all at +once added two and two together, and while perhaps he did not make four of +it, his mental arithmetic was accurate enough to convince him that straight +north was the road to travel. + +By the time Langdon and Bruce had reached the summit of the Bighorn +Highway, and were listening to the distant tongueing of the dogs, little +Muskwa was in abject despair. Following Thor had been like a game of tag +with never a moment's rest. + +An hour after they left the sheep trail they came to the rise in the valley +where the waters separated. From this point one creek flowed southward into +the Tacla Lake country and the other northward into the Babine, which was a +tributary of the Skeena. They descended very quickly into a much lower +country, and for the first time Muskwa encountered marshland, and travelled +at times through grass so rank and thick that he could not see but could +only hear Thor forging on ahead of him. + +The stream grew wider and deeper, and in places they skirted the edges of +dark, quiet pools that Muskwa thought must have been of immeasurable depth. +These pools gave Muskwa his first breathing-spells. Now and then Thor would +stop and sniff over the edge of them. He was hunting for something, and yet +he never seemed to find it; and each time that he started on afresh Muskwa +was so much nearer to the end of his endurance. + +They were fully seven miles north of the point from which Bruce and Langdon +were scanning the valley through their glasses when they came to a lake. It +was a dark and unfriendly looking lake to Muskwa, who had never seen +anything but sunlit pools in the dips. The forest grew close down to its +shore. In places it was almost black. Queer birds squawked in the thick +reeds. It was heavy with a strange odour--a fragrance of something that +made the cub lick his little chops, and filled him with hunger. + +For a minute or two Thor stood sniffing this scent that filled the air. It +was the smell of fish. + +Slowly the big grizzly began picking his way along the edge of the lake. +He soon came to the mouth of a small creek. It was not more than twenty +feet wide, but it was dark and quiet and deep, like the lake itself. For a +hundred yards Thor made his way up this creek, until he came to where a +number of trees had fallen across it, forming a jam. Close to this jam the +water was covered with a green scum. Thor knew what lay under that scum, +and very quietly he crept out on the logs. + +Midway in the stream he paused, and with his right paw gently brushed back +the scum so that an open pool of clear water lay directly under him. + +Muskwa's bright little eyes watched him from the shore. He knew that Thor +was after something to eat, but how he was going to get it out of that pool +of water puzzled and interested him in spite of his weariness. + +Thor stretched himself out on his belly, his head and right paw well over +the jam. He now put his paw a foot into the water and held it there very +quietly. He could see clearly to the bottom of the stream. For a few +moments he saw only this bottom, a few sticks, and the protruding end of a +limb. Then a long slim shadow moved slowly under him--a fifteen-inch +trout. It was too deep for him, and Thor did not make an excited plunge. + +Patiently he waited, and very soon this patience was rewarded. A beautiful +red-spotted trout floated out from under the scum, and so suddenly that +Muskwa gave a yelp of terror, Thor's huge paw sent a shower of water a +dozen feet into the air, and the fish landed with a thump within three feet +of the cub. Instantly Muskwa was upon it. His sharp teeth dug into it as it +flopped and struggled. + +Thor rose on the logs, but when he saw that Muskwa had taken possession of +the fish, he resumed his former position. Muskwa was just finishing his +first real kill when a second spout of water shot upward and another trout +pirouetted shoreward through the air. This time Thor followed quickly, for +he was hungry. + +It was a glorious feast they had that early afternoon beside the shaded +creek. Five times Thor knocked fish out from under the scum, but for the +life of him Muskwa could not eat more than his first trout. + +For several hours after their dinner they lay in a cool, hidden spot close +to the log-jam. Muskwa did not sleep soundly. He was beginning to +understand that life was now largely a matter of personal responsibility +with him, and his ears had begun to attune themselves to sound. Whenever +Thor moved or heaved a deep sigh, Muskwa knew it. After that day's Marathon +with the grizzly he was filled with uneasiness--a fear that he might lose +his big friend and food-killer, and he was determined that the parent he +had adopted should have no opportunity of slipping away from him unheard +and unseen. But Thor had no intention of deserting his little comrade. In +fact, he was becoming quite fond of Muskwa. + +It was not alone his hunger for fish or fear of his enemies that was +bringing Thor into the lower country of the Babine waterways. For a week +past there had been in him a steadily growing unrest, and it had reached +its climax in these last two or three days of battle and flight. He was +filled with a strange and unsatisfied yearning, and as Muskwa napped in his +little bed among the bushes Thor's ears were keenly alert for certain +sounds and his nose frequently sniffed the air. He wanted a mate. It was +_puskoowepesim_--the "moulting moon"--and always in this moon, or the end +of the "egg-laying moon," which was June, he hunted for the female that +came to him from the western ranges. He was almost entirely a creature of +habit, and always he made this particular detour, entering the other valley +again far down toward the Babine. He never failed to feed on fish along the +way, and the more fish he ate the stronger was the odour of him. It is +barely possible Thor had discovered that this perfume of golden-spotted +trout made him more attractive to his lady-love. Anyway, he ate fish, and +he smelled abundantly. + +Thor rose and stretched himself two hours before sunset, and he knocked +three more fish out of the water. Muskwa ate the head of one and Thor +finished the rest. Then they continued their pilgrimage. + +It was a new world that Muskwa entered now. In it there were none of the +old familiar sounds. The purring drone of the upper valley was gone. There +were no whistlers, and no ptarmigan, and no fat little gophers running +about. The water of the lake lay still, and dark, and deep, with black and +sunless pools hiding themselves under the roots of trees, so close did the +forest cling to it. There were no rocks to climb over, but dank, soft logs, +thick windfalls, and litters of brush. The air was different, too. It was +very still. Under their feet at times was a wonderful carpet of soft moss +in which Thor sank nearly to his armpits. And the forest was filled with a +strange gloom and many mysterious shadows, and there hung heavily in it the +pungent smells of decaying vegetation. + +Thor did not travel so swiftly here. The silence and the gloom and the +oppressively scented air seemed to rouse his caution. He stepped quietly; +frequently he stopped and looked about him, and listened; he smelled at the +edges of pools hidden under the roots; every new sound brought him to a +stop, his head hung low and his ears alert. + +Several times Muskwa saw shadowy things floating through the gloom. They +were the big gray owls that turned snow white in winter. And once, when it +was almost dark, they came upon a pop-eyed, loose-jointed, fierce-looking +creature in the trail who scurried away like a ball at sight of Thor. It +was a lynx. + +It was not yet quite dark when Thor came out very quietly into a clearing, +and Muskwa found himself first on the shore of a creek, and then close to a +big pond. The air was full of the breath and warmth of a new kind of life. +It was not fish, and yet it seemed to come from the pond, in the centre of +which were three or four circular masses that looked like great brush-heaps +plastered with a coating of mud. + +Whenever he came into this end of the valley Thor always paid a visit to +the beaver colony, and occasionally he helped himself to a fat young beaver +for supper or breakfast. This evening he was not hungry, and he was in a +hurry. In spite of these two facts he stood for some minutes in the shadows +near the pond. + +The beavers had already begun their night's work. Muskwa soon understood +the significance of the shimmering streaks that ran swiftly over the +surface of the water. At the end of each streak was always a dark, flat +head, and now he saw that most of these streaks began at the farther edge +of the pond and made directly for a long, low barrier that shut in the +water a hundred yards to the east. + +This particular barrier was strange to Thor, and with his maturer +knowledge of beaver ways he knew that his engineering friends--whom he ate +only occasionally--were broadening their domain by building a new dam. As +they watched, two fat workmen shoved a four-foot length of log into the +pond with a big splash, and one of them began piloting it toward the scene +of building operations, while his companion returned to other work. A +little later there was a crash in the timber on the opposite side of the +pond, where another workman had succeeded in felling a tree. Then Thor made +his way toward the dam. + +Almost instantly there was a terrific crack out in the middle of the pond, +followed by a tremendous splash. An old beaver had seen Thor and with the +flat side of his broad tail had given the surface of the water a warning +slap that cut the still air like a rifle-shot. All at once there were +splashings and divings in every direction, and a moment later the pond was +ruffled and heaving as a score of interrupted workers dove excitedly under +the surface to the safety of their brush-ribbed and mud-plastered +strongholds, and Muskwa was so absorbed in the general excitement that he +almost forgot to follow Thor. + +He overtook the grizzly at the dam. For a few moments Thor inspected the +new work, and then tested it with his weight. It was solid, and over this +bridge ready built for them they crossed to the higher ground on the +opposite side. A few hundred yards farther on Thor struck a fairly +well-beaten caribou trail which in the course of half an hour led them +around the end of the lake to the outlet stream flowing north. + +Every minute Muskwa was hoping that Thor would stop. His afternoon's nap +had not taken the lameness out of his legs nor the soreness from the tender +pads of his feet. He had had enough, and more than enough, of travel, and +could he have regulated the world according to his own wishes he would not +have walked another mile for a whole month. Mere walking would not have +been so bad, but to keep up with Thor's ambling gait he was compelled to +trot, like a stubby four-year-old child hanging desperately to the thumb of +a big and fast-walking man. Muskwa had not even a thumb to hang to. The +bottoms of his feet were like boils; his tender nose was raw from contact +with brush and the knife-edged marsh grass, and his little back felt all +caved in. Still he hung on desperately, until the creek-bottom was again +sand and gravel, and travelling was easier. + +The stars were up now, millions of them, clear and brilliant; and it was +quite evident that Thor had set his mind on an "all-night hike," a +_kuppatipsk pimootao_ as a Cree tracker would have called it. Just how it +would have ended for Muskwa is a matter of conjecture had not the spirits +of thunder and rain and lightning put their heads together to give him a +rest. + +For perhaps an hour the stars were undimmed, and Thor kept on like a +heathen without a soul, while Muskwa limped on all four feet. Then a low +rumbling gathered in the west. It grew louder and louder, and approached +swiftly--straight from the warm Pacific. Thor grew uneasy, and sniffed in +the face of it. Livid streaks began to criss-cross a huge pall of black +that was closing in on them like a vast curtain. The stars began to go out. +A moaning wind came. And then the rain. + +Thor had found a huge rock that shelved inward, like a lean-to, and he +crept back under this with Muskwa before the deluge descended. For many +minutes it was more like a flood than a rain. It seemed as though a part of +the Pacific Ocean had been scooped up and dropped on them, and in half an +hour the creek was a swollen torrent. + +The lightning and the crash of thunder terrified Muskwa. Now he could see +Thor in great blinding flashes of fire, and the next instant it was as +black as pitch; the tops of the mountains seemed falling down into the +valley; the earth trembled and shook--and he snuggled closer and closer to +Thor until at last he lay between his two forearms, half buried in the long +hair of the big grizzly's shaggy chest. Thor himself was not much concerned +in these noisy convulsions of nature, except to keep himself dry. When he +took a bath he wanted the sun to be shining and a nice warm rock close at +hand on which to stretch himself. + +For a long time after its first fierce outbreak the rain continued to fall +in a gentle shower. Muskwa liked this, and under the sheltering rock, +snuggled against Thor, he felt very comfortable and easily fell asleep. +Through long hours Thor kept his vigil alone, drowsing now and then, but +kept from sound slumber by the restlessness that was in him. + +It stopped raining soon after midnight, but it was very dark, the stream +was flooding over its bars, and Thor remained under the rock. Muskwa had a +splendid sleep. + +Day had come when Thor's stirring roused Muskwa. He followed the grizzly +out into the open, feeling tremendously better than last night, though his +feet were still sore and his body was stiff. + +Thor began to follow the creek again. Along this stream there were low +flats and many small bayous where grew luxuriantly the tender grass and +roots, and especially the slim long-stemmed lilies on which Thor was fond +of feeding. But for a thousand-pound grizzly to fill up on such vegetarian +dainties as these consumed many hours, if not one's whole time, and Thor +considered that he had no time to lose. Thor was a most ardent lover when +he loved at all, which was only a few days out of the year; and during +these days he twisted his mode of living around so that while the spirit +possessed him he no longer existed for the sole purpose of eating and +growing fat. For a short time he put aside his habit of living to eat, and +ate to live; and poor Muskwa was almost famished before another dinner was +forthcoming. + +But at last, early in the afternoon, Thor came to a pool which he could not +pass. It was not a dozen feet in width, and it was alive with trout. The +fish had not been able to reach the lake above, and they had waited too +long after the flood-season to descend into the deeper waters of the Babine +and the Skeena. They had taken refuge in this pool, which was now about to +become a death-trap. + +At one end the water was two feet deep; at the other end only a few inches. +After pondering over this fact for a few moments, the grizzly waded openly +into the deepest part, and from the bank above Muskwa saw the shimmering +trout darting into the shallower water. Thor advanced slowly, and now, when +he stood in less than eight inches of water, the panic-stricken fish one +after another tried to escape back into the deeper part of the pool. + +Again and again Thor's big right paw swept up great showers of water. The +first inundation knocked Muskwa off his feet. But with it came a two-pound +trout which the cub quickly dragged out of range and began eating. So +agitated became the pool because of the mighty strokes of Thor's paw that +the trout completely lost their heads, and no sooner did they reach one end +than they turned about and darted for the other. They kept this up until +the grizzly had thrown fully a dozen of their number ashore. + +So absorbed was Muskwa in his fish, and Thor in his fishing, that neither +had noticed a visitor. Both saw him at about the same time, and for fully +thirty seconds they stood and stared, Thor in his pool and the cub over his +fish, utter amazement robbing them of the power of movement. The visitor +was another grizzly, and as coolly as though he had done the fishing +himself he began eating the fish which Thor had thrown out! A worse insult +or a deadlier challenge could not have been known in the land of Beardom. +Even Muskwa sensed that fact. He looked expectantly at Thor. There was +going to be another fight, and he licked his little chops in anticipation. + +Thor came up out of the pool slowly. On the bank he paused. The grizzlies +gazed at each other, the newcomer crunching a fish as he looked. Neither +growled. Muskwa perceived no signs of enmity, and then to his increased +astonishment Thor began eating a fish within three feet of the interloper! + +Perhaps man is the finest of all God's creations, but when it comes to his +respect for old age he is no better, and sometimes not as good, as a +grizzly bear; for Thor would not rob an old bear, he would not fight an old +bear, and he would not drive an old bear from his own meat--which is more +than can be said of some humans. And the visitor was an old bear, and a +sick bear as well. He stood almost as high as Thor, but he was so old that +he was only half as broad across the chest, and his neck and head were +grotesquely thin. The Indians have a name for him. _Kuyas Wapusk_ they call +him--the bear so old he is about to die. They let him go unharmed; other +bears tolerate him and let him eat their meat if he chances along; the +white man kills him. + +This old bear was famished. His claws were gone; his hair was thin, and in +some places his skin was naked, and he had barely more than red, hard gums +to chew with. If he lived until autumn he would den up--for the last time. +Perhaps death would come even sooner than that. If so, _Kuyas Wapusk_ +would know in time, and he would crawl off into some hidden cave or deep +crevice in the rocks to breathe his last. For in all the Rocky Mountains, +so far as Bruce or Langdon knew, there was not a man who had found the +bones or body of a grizzly that had died a natural death! + +And big, hunted Thor, torn by wound and pursued by man, seemed to +understand that this would be the last real feast on earth for _Kuyas +Wapusk_--too old to fish for himself, too old to hunt, too old even to dig +out the tender lily roots; and so he let him eat until the last fish was +gone, and then went on, with Muskwa tagging at his heels. + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + + +For still another two hours Thor led Muskwa on that tiresome jaunt into the +north. They had travelled a good twenty miles since leaving the Bighorn +Highway, and to the little tan-faced cub those twenty miles were like a +journey around the world. Ordinarily he would not have gone that far away +from his birthplace until his second year, and very possibly his third. + +Not once in this hike down the valley had Thor wasted time on the mountain +slopes. He had picked out the easiest trails along the creek. Three or four +miles below the pool where they had left the old bear he suddenly changed +this procedure by swinging due westward, and a little later they were once +more climbing a mountain. They went up a long green slide for a quarter of +a mile, and luckily for Muskwa's legs this brought them to the smooth +plainlike floor of a break which took them without much more effort out on +the slopes of the other valley. This was the valley in which Thor had +killed the black bear twenty miles to the southward. + +From the moment Thor looked out over the northern limits of his range a +change took possession of him. All at once he lost his eagerness to hurry. +For fifteen minutes he stood looking down into the valley, sniffing the +air. He descended slowly, and when he reached the green meadows and the +creek-bottom he _mooshed_ along straight in the face of the wind, which was +coming from the south and west. It did not bring him the scent he +wanted--the smell of his mate. Yet an instinct that was more infallible +than reason told him that she was near, or should be near. He did not take +accident or sickness or the possibility of hunters having killed her into +consideration. This was where he had always started in to hunt for her, and +sooner or later he had found her. He knew her smell. And he crossed and +recrossed the bottoms so that it could not escape him. + +When Thor was love-sick he was more or less like a man: that is to say, he +was an idiot. The importance of all other things dwindled into nothingness. +His habits, which were as fixed as the stars at other times, took a +complete vacation. He even forgot hunger, and the whistlers and gophers +were quite safe. He was tireless. He rambled during the night as well as +the day in quest of his lady-love. + +It was quite natural that in these exciting hours he should forget Muskwa +almost entirely. At least ten times before sunset he crossed and recrossed +the creek, and the disgusted and almost ready-to-quit cub waded and swam +and floundered after him until he was nearly drowned. The tenth or dozenth +time Thor forded the stream Muskwa revolted and followed along on his own +side. It was not long before the grizzly returned. + +It was soon after this, just as the sun was setting, that the unexpected +happened. What little wind there was suddenly swung straight into the east, +and from the western slopes half a mile away it brought a scent that held +Thor motionless in his tracks for perhaps half a minute, and then set him +off on that ambling run which is the ungainliest gait of all four-footed +creatures. + +Muskwa rolled after him like a ball, pegging away for dear life, but losing +ground at every jump. In that half-mile stretch he would have lost Thor +altogether if the grizzly had not stopped near the bottom of the first +slope to take fresh reckonings. When he started up the slope Muskwa could +see him, and with a yelping cry for him to wait a minute set after him +again. + +Two or three hundred yards up the mountainside the slope shelved downward +into a hollow, or dip, and nosing about in this dip, questing the air as +Thor had quested it, was the beautiful she-grizzly from over the range. +With her was one of her last year's cubs. Thor was within fifty yards of +her when he came over the crest. He stopped. He looked at her. And Iskwao, +"the female," looked at him. + +Then followed true bear courtship. All haste, all eagerness, all desire for +his mate seemed to have left Thor; and if Iskwao had been eager and +yearning she was profoundly indifferent now. For two or three minutes Thor +stood looking casually about, and this gave Muskwa time to come up and +perch himself beside him, expecting another fight. + +As though Thor was a thousand miles or so from her thoughts, Iskwao turned +over a flat rock and began hunting for grubs and ants, and not to be +outdone in this stoic unconcern Thor pulled up a bunch of grass and +swallowed it. Iskwao moved a step or two, and Thor moved a step or two, and +as if purely by accident their steps were toward each other. + +Muskwa was puzzled. The older cub was puzzled. They sat on their haunches +like two dogs, one three times as big as the other, and wondered what was +going to happen. + +It took Thor and Iskwao five minutes to arrive within five feet of each +other, and then very decorously they smelled noses. + +The year-old cub joined the family circle. He was of just the right age to +have an exceedingly long name, for the Indians called him Pipoonaskoos-- +"the yearling." He came boldly up to Thor and his mother. For a moment +Thor did not seem to notice him. Then his long right arm shot out in a +sudden swinging upper-cut that lifted Pipoonaskoos clean off the ground +and sent him spinning two-thirds of the distance up to Muskwa. + +The mother paid no attention to this elimination of her offspring, and +still lovingly smelled noses with Thor. Muskwa, however, thought this was +the preliminary of another tremendous fight, and with a yelp of defiance +he darted down the slope and set upon Pipoonaskoos with all his might. + +Pipoonaskoos was "mother's boy." That is, he was one of those cubs who +persist in following their mothers through a second season, instead of +striking out for themselves. He had nursed until he was five months old; +his parent had continued to hunt tidbits for him; he was fat, and sleek, +and soft; he was, in fact, a "Willie" of the mountains. + +On the other hand, a few days had put a lot of real mettle into Muskwa, and +though he was only a third as large as Pipoonaskoos, and his feet were +sore, and his back ached, he landed on the other cub like a shot out of a +gun. + +Still dazed by the blow of Thor's paw, Pipoonaskoos gave a yelping call to +his mother for help at this sudden onslaught. He had never been in a fight, +and he rolled over on his back and side, kicking and scratching and yelping +as Muskwa's needle-like teeth sank again and again into his tender hide. + +Luckily Muskwa got him once by the nose, and bit deep, and if there was any +sand at all in Willie Pipoonaskoos this took it out of him, and while +Muskwa held on for dear life he let out a steady stream of yelps, +informing his mother that he was being murdered. To these cries Iskwao paid +no attention at all, but continued to smell noses with Thor. + +Finally freeing his bleeding nose, Pipoonaskoos shook Muskwa off by sheer +force of superior weight and took to flight on a dead run. Muskwa pegged +valiantly after him. Twice they made the circle of the basin, and in +spite of his shorter legs, Muskwa was a close second in the race when +Pipoonaskoos, turning an affrighted glance sidewise for an instant, hit +against a rock and went sprawling. In another moment Muskwa was at him +again, and he would have continued biting and snarling until there was no +more strength left in him had he not happened to see Thor and Iskwao +disappearing slowly over the edge of the slope toward the valley. + +Almost immediately Muskwa forgot fighting. He was amazed to find that +Thor, instead of tearing up the other bear, was walking off with her. +Pipoonaskoos also pulled himself together and looked. Then Muskwa looked at +Pipoonaskoos, and Pipoonaskoos looked at Muskwa. The tan-faced cub licked +his chops just once, as if torn between the prospective delight of mauling +Pipoonaskoos and the more imperative duty of following Thor. The other gave +him no choice. With a whimpering yelp he set off after his mother. + +Exciting times followed for the two cubs. All that night Thor and Iskwao +kept by themselves in the buffalo willow thickets and the balsams of the +creek-bottom. Early in the evening Pipoonaskoos sneaked up to his mother +again, and Thor lifted him into the middle of the creek. The second visual +proof of Thor's displeasure impinged upon Muskwa the fact that the older +bears were not in a mood to tolerate the companionship of cubs, and the +result was a wary and suspicious truce between him and Pipoonaskoos. + +All the next day Thor and Iskwao kept to themselves. Early in the morning +Muskwa began adventuring about a little in quest of food. He liked tender +grass, but it was not very filling. Several times he saw Pipoonaskoos +digging in the soft bottom close to the creek, and finally he drove the +other cub away from a partly digged hole and investigated for himself. +After a little more excavating he pulled out a white, bulbous, tender root +that he thought was the sweetest and nicest thing he had ever eaten, not +even excepting fish. It was the one _bonne bouche_ of all the good things +he would eventually learn to eat--the spring beauty. One other thing alone +was at all comparable with it, and that was the dog-tooth violet. Spring +beauties were growing about him abundantly, and he continued to dig until +his feet were grievously tender. But he had the satisfaction of being +comfortably fed. + +Thor was again responsible for a fight between Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos. +Late in the afternoon the older bears were lying down side by side in a +thicket when, without any apparent reason at all, Thor opened his huge jaws +and emitted a low, steady, growling roar that sounded very much like the +sound he had made when tearing the life out of the big black. Iskwao raised +her head and joined him in the tumult, both of them perfectly good-natured +and quite happy during the operation. Why mating bears indulge in this +blood-curdling duet is a mystery which only the bears themselves can +explain. It lasts for about a minute, and during this particular minute +Muskwa, who lay outside the thicket, thought that surely the glorious hour +had come when Thor was beating up the parent of Pipoonaskoos. And instantly +he looked for Pipoonaskoos. + +Unfortunately the Willie-bear came sneaking round the edge of the brush +just then, and Muskwa gave him no chance to ask questions. He shot at him +in a black streak and Pipoonaskoos bowled over like a fat baby. For several +minutes they bit and dug and clawed, most of the biting and digging and +clawing being done by Muskwa, while Pipoonaskoos devoted his time and +energy to yelping. + +Finally the larger cub got away and again took to flight. Muskwa pursued +him, into the brush and out, down to the creek and back, halfway up the +slope and down again, until he was so tired he had to drop on his belly for +a rest. + +At this juncture Thor emerged from the thicket. He was alone. For the first +time since last night he seemed to notice Muskwa. Then he sniffed the wind +up the valley and down the valley, and after that turned and walked +straight toward the distant slopes down which they had come the preceding +afternoon. Muskwa was both pleased and perplexed. He wanted to go into the +thicket and snarl and pull at the hide of the dead bear that must be in +there, and he also wanted to finish Pipoonaskoos. After a moment or two of +hesitation he ran after Thor and again followed close at his heels. + +After a little Iskwao came from the thicket and nosed the wind as Thor had +felt it. Then she turned in the opposite direction, and with Pipoonaskoos +close behind her, went up the slope and continued slowly and steadily in +the face of the setting sun. + +So ended Thor's love-making and Muskwa's first fighting; and together they +trailed eastward again, to face the most terrible peril that had ever come +into the mountains for four-footed beast-a peril that was merciless, a +peril from which there was no escape, a peril that was fraught with death. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + + +The first night after leaving Iskwao and Pipoonaskoos the big grizzly and +the tan-faced cub wandered without sleep under the brilliant stars. Thor +did not hunt for meat. He climbed a steep slope, then went down the shale +side of a dip, and in a small basin hidden at the foot of a mountain came +to a soft green meadow where the dog-tooth violet, with its slender stem, +its two lily-like leaves, its single cluster of five-petalled flowers, and +its luscious, bulbous root grew in great profusion. And here all through +the night he dug and ate. + +Muskwa, who had filled himself on spring beauty roots, was not hungry, and +as the day had been a restful one for him, outside of his fighting, he +found this night filled with its brilliant stars quite enjoyable. The moon +came up about ten o'clock, and it was the biggest, and the reddest, and the +most beautiful moon Muskwa had seen in his short life. It rolled up over +the peaks like a forest fire, and filled all the Rocky Mountains with a +wonderful glow. The basin, in which there were perhaps ten acres of meadow, +was lighted up almost like day. The little lake at the foot of the mountain +glimmered softly, and the tiny stream that fed it from the melting snows a +thousand feet above shot down in glistening cascades that caught the +moonlight like rivulets of dull polished diamonds. + +About the meadow were scattered little clumps of bushes and a few balsams +and spruce, as if set there for ornamental purposes; and on one side there +was a narrow, verdure-covered slide that sloped upward for a third of a +mile, and at the top of which, unseen by Muskwa and Thor, a band of sheep +were sleeping. + +Muskwa wandered about, always near Thor, investigating the clumps of +bushes, the dark shadows of the balsams and spruce, and the edge of the +lake. Here he found a plashet of soft mud which was a great solace to his +sore feet. Twenty times during the night he waded in the mud. + +Even when the dawn came Thor seemed to be in no great haste to leave the +basin. Until the sun was well up he continued to wander about the meadow +and the edge of the lake, digging up occasional roots, and eating tender +grass. This did not displease Muskwa, who made his breakfast of the +dog-tooth violet bulbs. The one matter that puzzled him was why Thor did +not go into the lake and throw out trout, for he yet had to learn that all +water did not contain fish. At last he went fishing for himself, and +succeeded in getting a black hard-shelled water beetle that nipped his nose +with a pair of needle-like pincers and brought a yelp from him. + +It was perhaps ten o'clock, and the sun-filled basin was like a warm oven +to a thick-coated bear, when Thor searched up among the rocks near the +waterfall until he found a place that was as cool as an old-fashioned +cellar. It was a miniature cavern. All about it the slate and sandstone was +of a dark and clammy wet from a hundred little trickles of snow water that +ran down from the peaks. + +It was just the sort of a place Thor loved on a July day, but to Muskwa it +was dark and gloomy and not a thousandth part as pleasant as the sun. So +after an hour or two he left Thor in his frigidarium and began to +investigate the treacherous ledges. + +For a few minutes all went well--then he stepped on a green-tinted slope of +slate over which a very shallow dribble of water was running. The water had +been running over it in just that way for some centuries, and the shelving +slate was worn as smooth as the surface of a polished pearl, and it was as +slippery as a greased pole. Muskwa's feet went out from under him so +quickly that he hardly knew what had happened. The next moment he was on +his way to the lake a hundred feet below. He rolled over and over. He +plashed into shallow pools. He bounced over miniature waterfalls like a +rubber ball. The wind was knocked out of him. He was blinded and dazed by +water and shock, and he gathered fresh speed with every yard he made. He +had succeeded in letting out half a dozen terrified yelps at the start, and +these roused Thor. + +Where the water from the peaks fell into the lake there was a precipitous +drop of ten feet, and over this Muskwa shot with a momentum that carried +him twice as far out into the pond. He hit with a big splash, and +disappeared. Down and down he went, where everything was black and cold and +suffocating; then the life-preserver with which nature had endowed him in +the form of his fat brought him to the surface. He began to paddle with all +four feet. It was his first swim, and when he finally dragged himself +ashore he was limp and exhausted. + +While he still lay panting and very much frightened, Thor came down from +the rocks. Muskwa's mother had given him a sound cuffing when he got the +porcupine quill in his foot. She had cuffed him for every accident he had +had, because she believed that cuffing was good medicine. Education is +largely cuffed into a bear cub, and she would have given him a fine cuffing +now. But Thor only smelled of him, saw that he was all right, and began to +dig up a dog-tooth violet. + +He had not finished the violet when suddenly he stopped. For a half-minute +he stood like a statue. Muskwa jumped and shook himself. Then he listened. +A sound came to both of them. In one slow, graceful movement the grizzly +reared himself to his full height. He faced the north, his ears thrust +forward, the sensitive muscles of his nostrils twitching. He could smell +nothing, but he _heard_! + +Over the slopes which they had climbed there had come to him faintly a +sound that was new to him, a sound that had never before been a part of his +life. It was the barking of dogs. + +For two minutes Thor sat on his haunches without moving a muscle of his +great body except those twitching thews in his nose. + +Deep down in this cup under the mountain it was difficult even for sound to +reach him. Quickly he swung down on all fours and made for the green slope +to the southward, at the top of which the band of sheep had slept during +the preceding night. Muskwa hurried after. + +A hundred yards up the slope Thor stopped and turned. Again he reared +himself. Now Muskwa also faced to the north. A sudden downward drift of the +wind brought the barking of the dogs to them clearly. + +Less than half a mile away Langdon's pack of trained Airedales were hot on +the scent. Their baying was filled with the fierce excitement which told +Bruce and Langdon, a quarter of a mile behind them, that they were close +upon their prey. + +And even more than it thrilled them did the tongueing of the dogs thrill +Thor. Again it was instinct that told him a new enemy had come into his +world. He was not afraid. But that instinct urged him to retreat, and he +went higher until he came to a part of the mountain that was rough and +broken, where once more he halted. + +This time he waited. Whatever the menace was it was drawing nearer with the +swiftness of the wind. He could hear it coming up the slope that sheltered +the basin from the valley. + +The crest of that slope was just about on a level with Thor's eyes, and as +he looked the leader of the pack came up over the edge of it and stood for +a moment outlined against the sky. The others followed quickly, and for +perhaps thirty seconds they stood rigid on the cap of the hill, looking +down into the basin at their feet and sniffing the heavy scent with which +it was filled. + +During those thirty seconds Thor watched his enemies without moving, while +in his deep chest there gathered slowly a low and terrible growl. Not until +the pack swept down into the cup of the mountain, giving full tongue again, +did he continue his retreat. But it was not flight. He was not afraid. He +was going on--because to go on was his business. He was not seeking +trouble; he had no desire even to defend his possession of the meadow and +the little lake under the mountain. There were other meadows and other +lakes, and he was not naturally a lover of fighting. But he was ready to +fight. + +He continued to rumble ominously, and in him there was burning a slow and +sullen anger. He buried himself among the rocks; he followed a ledge with +Muskwa slinking close at his heels; he climbed over a huge scarp of rock, +and twisted among boulders half as big as houses. But not once did he go +where Muskwa could not easily follow. Once, when he drew himself from a +ledge to a projecting seam of sandstone higher up, and found that Muskwa +could not climb it, he came down and went another way. + +The baying of the dogs was now deep down in the basin. Then it began to +rise swiftly, as if on wings, and Thor knew that the pack was coming up the +green slide. He stopped again, and this time the wind brought their scent +to him full and strong. + +It was a scent that tightened every muscle in his great body and set +strange fires burning in him like raging furnaces. With the dogs came also +the _man-smell_! + +He travelled upward a little faster now, and the fierce and joyous yelping +of the dogs seemed scarcely a hundred yards away when he entered a small +open space in the wild upheaval of rock. On the mountainside was a wall +that rose perpendicularly. Twenty feet on the other side was a sheer fall +of a hundred feet, and the way ahead was closed with the exception of a +trail scarcely wider than Thor's body by a huge crag of rock that had +fallen from the shoulder of the mountain. The big grizzly led Muskwa close +up to this crag and the break that opened through it, and then turned +suddenly back, so that Muskwa was behind him. In the face of the peril that +was almost upon them a mother-bear would have driven Muskwa into the safety +of a crevice in the rock wall. Thor did not do this. He fronted the danger +that was coming, and reared himself up on his hind quarters. + +Twenty feet away the trail he had followed swung sharply around a +projecting bulge in the perpendicular wall, and with eyes that were now +red and terrible Thor watched the trap he had set. + +The pack was coming full tongue. Fifty yards beyond the bulge the dogs were +running shoulder to shoulder, and a moment later the first of them rushed +into the arena which Thor had chosen for himself. The bulk of the horde +followed so closely that the first dogs were flung under him as they strove +frantically to stop themselves in time. + +With a roar Thor launched himself among them. His great right arm swept out +and inward, and it seemed to Muskwa that he had gathered a half of the pack +under his huge body. With a single crunch of his jaws he broke the back of +the foremost hunter. From a second he tore the head so that the windpipe +trailed out like a red rope. + +He rolled himself forward, and before the remaining dogs could recover from +their panic he had caught one a blow that sent him flying over the edge of +the precipice to the rocks a hundred feet below. It had all happened in +half a minute, and in that half-minute the remaining nine dogs had +scattered. + +But Langdon's Airedales were fighters. To the last dog they had come of +fighting stock, and Bruce and Metoosin had trained them until they could be +hung up by their ears without whimpering. The tragic fate of three of their +number frightened them no more than their own pursuit had frightened Thor. + +Swift as lightning they circled about the grizzly, spreading themselves on +their forefeet, ready to spring aside or backward to avoid sudden rushes, +and giving voice now to that quick, fierce yapping which tells hunters +their quarry is at bay. This was their business--to harass and torment, to +retard flight, to stop their prey again and again until their masters came +to finish the kill. It was a quite fair and thrilling sport for the bear +and the dogs. The man who comes up with the rifle ends it in murder. + +But if the dogs had their tricks, Thor also had his. After three or four +vain rushes, in which the Airedales eluded him by their superior quickness, +he backed slowly toward the huge rock beside which Muskwa was crouching, +and as he retreated the dogs advanced. + +Their increased barking and Thor's evident inability to drive them away or +tear them to pieces terrified Muskwa more than ever. Suddenly he turned +tail and darted into a crevice in the rock behind him. + +Thor continued to back until his great hips touched the stone. Then he +swung his head side wise and looked for the cub. Not a hair of Muskwa was +to be seen. Twice Thor turned his head. After that, seeing that Muskwa was +gone, he continued to retreat until he blocked the narrow passage that was +his back door to safety. + +The dogs were now barking like mad. They were drooling at their mouths, +their wiry crests stood up like brushes, and their snarling fangs were +bared to their red gums. + +Nearer and nearer they came to him, challenging him to stay, to rush them, +to catch them if he could--and in their excitement they put ten yards of +open space behind them. Thor measured this space, as he had measured the +distance between him and the young bull caribou a few days before. And +then, without so much as a snarl of warning, he darted out upon his enemies +with a suddenness that sent them flying wildly for their lives. + +Thor did not stop. He kept on. Where the rock wall bulged out the trail +narrowed to five feet, and he had measured this fact as well as the +distance. He caught the last dog, and drove it down under his paw. As it +was torn to pieces the Airedale emitted piercing cries of agony that +reached Bruce and Langdon as they hurried panting and wind-broken up the +slide that led from the basin. + +Thor dropped on his belly in the narrowed trail, and as the pack broke +loose with fresh voice he continued to tear at his victim until the rock +was smeared with blood and hair and entrails. Then he rose to his feet and +looked again for Muskwa. The cub was curled up in a shivering ball two feet +in the crevice. It may be that Thor thought he had gone on up the mountain, +for he lost no time now in retreating from the scene of battle. He had +caught the wind again. Bruce and Langdon were sweating, and their smell +came to him strongly. + +For ten minutes Thor paid no attention to the eight dogs yapping at his +heels, except to pause now and then and swing his head about. As he +continued in his retreat the Airedales became bolder, until finally one of +them sprang ahead of the rest and buried his fangs in the grizzly's leg. + +This accomplished what barking had failed to do. With another roar Thor +turned and pursued the pack headlong for fifty yards over the back-trail, +and five precious minutes were lost before he continued upward toward the +shoulder of the mountain. + +Had the wind been in another direction the pack would have triumphed, but +each time that Langdon and Bruce gained ground the wind warned Thor by +bringing to him the warm odour of their bodies. And the grizzly was careful +to keep that wind from the right quarter. He could have gained the top of +the mountain more easily and quickly by quartering the face of it on a +back-trail, but this would have thrown the wind too far under him. As long +as he held the wind he was safe, unless the hunters made an effort to +checkmate his method of escape by detouring and cutting him off. + +It took him half an hour to reach the topmost ridge of rock, from which +point he would have to break cover and reveal himself as he made the last +two or three hundred yards up the shale side of the mountain to the +backbone of the range. + +When Thor made this break he put on a sudden spurt of speed that left the +dogs thirty or forty yards behind him. For two or three minutes he was +clearly outlined on the face of the mountain, and during the last minute of +those three he was splendidly profiled against a carpet of pure-white snow, +without a shrub or a rock to conceal him from the eyes below. + +Bruce and Langdon saw him at five hundred yards, and began firing. Close +over his head Thor heard the curious ripping wail of the first bullet, and +an instant later came the crack of the rifle. + +A second shot sent up a spurt of snow five yards ahead of him. He swung +sharply to the right. This put him broadside to the marksmen. Thor heard a +third shot--and that was all. + +While the reports were still echoing among the crags and peaks something +struck Thor a terrific blow on the flat of his skull, five inches back of +his right ear. It was as if a club had descended upon him from out of the +sky. He went down like a log. + +It was a glancing shot. It scarcely drew blood, but for a moment it stunned +the grizzly, as a man is dazed by a blow on the end of the chin. + +Before he could rise from where he had fallen the dogs were upon him, +tearing at his throat and neck and body. With a roar Thor sprang to his +feet and shook them off. He struck out savagely, and Langdon and Bruce +could hear his bellowing as they stood with fingers on the triggers of +their rifles waiting for the dogs to draw away far enough to give them the +final shots. + +Yard by yard Thor worked his way upward, snarling at the frantic pack, +defying the man-smell, the strange thunder, the burning lightning--even +death itself, and five hundred yards below Langdon cursed despairingly as +the dogs hung so close he could not fire. + +Up to the very sky-line the blood-thirsting pack shielded Thor. He +disappeared over the summit. The dogs followed. And after that their baying +came fainter and fainter as the big grizzly led them swiftly away from the +menace of man in a long and thrilling race from which more than one was +doomed not to return. + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + + +In his hiding-place Muskwa heard the last sounds of the battle on the +ledge. The crevice was a V-shaped crack in the rock, and he had wedged +himself as far back in this as he could. He saw Thor pass the opening of +his refuge after he had killed the fourth dog; he heard the click, click, +click of his claws as he retreated up the trail; and at last he knew that +the grizzly was gone, and that the enemy had followed him. + +Still he was afraid to come out. These strange pursuers that had come up +out of the valley had filled him with a deadly terror. Pipoonaskoos had not +made him afraid. Even the big black bear that Thor killed had not terrified +him as these red-lipped, white-fanged strangers had frightened him. So he +remained in his crevice, crowded as far back as he could get, like a wad +shoved in a gun-barrel. + +He could still hear the tongueing of the dogs when other and nearer sounds +alarmed him. Langdon and Bruce came rushing around the bulge in the +mountain wall, and at sight of the dead dogs they stopped. Langdon cried +out in horror. + +He was not more than twenty feet from Muskwa. For the first time the cub +heard human voices; for the first time the sweaty odour of men filled his +nostrils, and he scarcely breathed in his new fear. Then one of the hunters +stood directly in front of the crack in which he was hidden, and he saw his +first man. A moment later the men, too, were gone. + +Later Muskwa heard the shots. After that the barking of the dogs grew more +and more distant until finally he could not hear them at all. It was about +three o'clock--the siesta hour in the mountains, and it was very quiet. + +For a long time Muskwa did not move. He listened. And he heard nothing. +Another fear was growing in him now--the fear of losing Thor. With every +breath he drew he was hoping that Thor would return. For an hour he +remained wedged in the rock. Then he heard a _cheep, cheep, cheep_, +and a tiny striped rock-rabbit came out on the ledge where Muskwa could see +him and began cautiously investigating one of the slain Airedales. This +gave Muskwa courage. He pricked up his ears a bit. He whimpered softly, as +if beseeching recognition and friendship of the one tiny creature that was +near him in this dreadful hour of loneliness and fear. + +Inch by inch he crawled out of his hiding-place. At last his little round, +furry head was out, and he looked about him. The trail was clear, and he +advanced toward the rock-rabbit. With a shrill chatter the striped mite +darted for its own stronghold, and Muskwa was alone again. + +For a few moments he stood undecided, sniffing the air that was heavy with +the scent of blood, of man, and of Thor; then he turned up the mountain. + +He knew Thor had gone in that direction, and if little Muskwa possessed a +mind and a soul they were filled with but one desire now--to overtake his +big friend and protector. Even fear of dogs and men, unknown quantities in +his life until to-day, was now overshadowed by the fear that he had lost +Thor. + +He did not need eyes to follow the trail. It was warm under his nose, and +he started in the zigzag ascent of the mountain as fast as he could go. +There were places where progress was difficult for his short legs, but he +kept on valiantly and hopefully, encouraged by Thor's fresh scent. + +It took him a good hour to reach the beginning of the naked shale that +reached up to the belt of snow and the sky-line, and it was four o'clock +when he started up those last three hundred yards between him and the +mountain-top. Up there he believed he would find Thor. But he was afraid, +and he continued to whimper softly to himself as he dug his little claws +bravely into the shale. + +Muskwa did not look up to the crest of the peak again after he had started. +To have done that it would have been necessary for him to stop and turn +sidewise, for the ascent was steep. And so, when Muskwa was halfway to the +top, it happened that he did not see Langdon and Bruce as they came over +the sky-line; and he could not smell them, for the wind was blowing up +instead of down. Oblivious of their presence he came to the snow-belt. +Joyously he smelled of Thor's huge footprints, and followed them. And above +him Bruce and Langdon waited, crouched low, their guns on the ground, and +each with his thick flannel shirt stripped off and held ready in his +hands. When Muskwa was less than twenty yards from them they came tearing +down upon him like an avalanche. + +Not until Bruce was upon him did Muskwa recover himself sufficiently to +move. He saw and realized danger in the last fifth of a second, and as +Bruce flung himself forward, his shirt outspread like a net, Muskwa darted +to one side. Sprawling on his face, Bruce gathered up a shirtful of snow +and clutched it to his breast, believing for a moment that he had the cub, +and at this same instant Langdon made a drive that entangled him with his +friend's long legs and sent him turning somersaults down the snow-slide. + +Muskwa bolted down the mountain as fast as his short legs could carry him. +In another second Bruce was after him, and Langdon joined in ten feet +behind. + +Suddenly Muskwa made a sharp turn, and the momentum with which Bruce was +coming carried him thirty or forty feet below him, where the lanky +mountaineer stopped himself only by doubling up like a jack-knife and +digging toes, hands, elbows, and even his shoulders in the soft shale. + +Langdon had switched, and was hot after Muskwa. He flung himself face +downward, shirt outspread, just as the cub made another turn, and when he +rose to his feet his face was scratched and he spat half a handful of dirt +and shale out of his mouth. + +Unfortunately for Muskwa his second turn brought him straight down to +Bruce, and before he could turn again he was enveloped in sudden darkness +and suffocation, and over him there rang out a fiendish and triumphant +yell. + +"I got 'im!" shouted Bruce. + +Inside the shirt Muskwa scratched and bit and snarled, and Bruce was having +his hands full when Langdon ran down with the second shirt. Very shortly +Muskwa was trussed up like a papoose. His legs and his body were swathed so +tightly that he could not move them. His head was not covered. It was the +only part of him that showed, and the only part of him that he could move, +and it looked so round and frightened and funny that for a minute or two +Langdon and Bruce forgot their disappointments and losses of the day and +laughed. + +Then Langdon sat down on one side of Muskwa, and Bruce on the other, and +they filled and lighted their pipes. Muskwa could not even kick an +objection. + +"A couple of husky hunters we are," said Langdon then. "Come out for a +grizzly and end up with that!" + +He looked at the cub. Muskwa was eying him so earnestly that Langdon sat in +mute wonder for a moment, and then slowly took his pipe from his mouth and +stretched out a hand. + +"Cubby, cubby, nice cubby," he cajoled softly. + +Muskwa's tiny ears were perked forward. His bright eyes were like glass. +Bruce, unobserved by Langdon, was grinning expectantly. + +"Cubby won't bite--no--no--nice little cubby--we won't hurt cubby--" + +The next instant a wild yell startled the mountain-tops as Muskwa's +needle-like teeth sank into one of Langdon's fingers. Bruce's howls of joy +would have frightened game a mile away. + +"You little devil!" gasped Langdon, and then, as he sucked his wounded +finger, he laughed with Bruce. "He's a sport--a dead game sport," he added. +"We'll call him Spitfire, Bruce. By George, I've wanted a cub like that +ever since I first came into the mountains. I'm going to take him home +with me! Ain't he a funny looking little cuss?" + +Muskwa shifted his head, the only part of him that was not as stiffly +immovable as a mummy, and scrutinized Bruce. Langdon rose to his feet and +looked back to the sky-line. His face was set and hard. + +"Four dogs!" he said, as if speaking to himself. "Three down below--and one +up there!" He was silent for a moment, and then said: "I can't understand +it, Bruce. They've cornered fifty bears for us, and until to-day we've +never lost a dog." + +Bruce was looping a buckskin thong about Muskwa's middle, making of it a +sort of handle by which he could carry the cub as he would have conveyed a +pail of water or a slab of bacon. He stood up, and Muskwa dangled at the +end of his string. + +"We've run up against a killer," he said. "An' a meat-killin' grizzly is +the worst animal on the face of the earth when it comes to a fight or a +hunt. The dogs'll never hold 'im, Jimmy, an' if it don't get dark pretty +soon there won't none of the bunch come back. They'll quit at dark--if +there's any left. The old fellow's got our wind, an' you can bet he knows +what knocked him down up there on the snow. He's hikin'--an' hikin' fast. +When we see 'im ag'in it'll be twenty miles from here." + +Langdon went up for the guns. When he returned Bruce led the way down the +mountain, carrying Muskwa by the buckskin thong. For a few moments they +paused on the blood-stained ledge of rock where Thor had wreaked his +vengeance upon his tormentors. Langdon bent over the dog the grizzly had +decapitated. + +"This is Biscuits," he said. "And we always thought she was the one coward +of the bunch. The other two are Jane and Tober; old Fritz is up on the +summit. Three of the best dogs we had, Bruce!" + +Bruce was looking over the ledge. He pointed downward. + +"There's another--pitched clean off the face o' the mount'in!" he gasped. +"Jimmy, that's five!" + +Langdon's fists were clenched tightly as he stared over the edge of the +precipice. A choking sound came from his throat. Bruce understood its +meaning. From where they stood they could see a black patch on the +upturned breast of the dog a hundred feet under them. Only one of the pack +was marked like that. It was Langdon's favourite. He had made her a camp +pet. + +"It's Dixie," he said. For the first time he felt a surge of anger sweep +through him, and his face was white as he turned back to the trail. "I've +got more than one reason for getting that grizzly now, Bruce," he added. +"Wild horses can't tear me away from these mountains until I kill him. I'll +stick until winter if I have to. I swear I'm going to kill him--if he +doesn't run away." + +"He won't do that," said Bruce tersely, as he once more swung down the +trail with Muskwa. + +Until now Muskwa had been stunned into submissiveness by what must have +appeared to him to be an utterly hopeless situation. He had strained every +muscle in his body to move a leg or a paw, but he was swathed as tightly as +Rameses had ever been. But now, however, it slowly dawned upon him that as +he dangled back and forth his face frequently brushed his enemy's leg, and +he still had the use of his teeth. He watched his opportunity, and this +came when Bruce took a long step down from a rock, thus allowing Muskwa's +body to rest for the fraction of a second on the surface of the stone from +which he was descending. + +Quicker than a wink Muskwa took a bite. It was a good deep bite, and if +Langdon's howl had stirred the silences a mile away the yell which now +came from Bruce beat him by at least a half. It was the wildest, most +blood-curdling sound Muskwa had ever heard, even more terrible than the +barking of the dogs, and it frightened him so that he released his hold at +once. + +Then, again, he was amazed. These queer bipeds made no effort to +retaliate. The one he had bitten hopped up and down on one foot in a most +unaccountable manner for a minute or so, while the other sat down on a +boulder and rocked back and forth, with his hands on his stomach, and +made a queer, uproarious noise with his mouth wide open. Then the other +stopped his hopping and also made that queer noise. + +It was anything but laughter to Muskwa. But it impinged upon him the truth +of one of two things: either these grotesque looking monsters did not dare +to fight him, or they were very peaceful and had no intention of harming +him. But they were more cautious thereafter, and as soon as they reached +the valley they carried him between them, strung on a rifle-barrel. + +It was almost dark when they approached a clump of balsams red with the +glow of a fire. It was Muskwa's first fire. Also he saw his first horses, +terrific looking monsters even larger than Thor. + +A third man--Metoosin, the Indian--came out to meet the hunters, and into +this creature's hands Muskwa found himself transferred. He was laid on his +side with the glare of the fire in his eyes, and while one of his captors +held him by both ears, and so tightly that it hurt, another fastened a +hobble-strap around his neck for a collar. A heavy halter rope was then +tied to the ring on this strap, and the end of the rope was fastened to a +tree. + +During these operations Muskwa snarled and snapped as much as he could. In +another half-minute he was free of the shirts, and as he staggered on four +wobbly legs, from which all power of flight had temporarily gone, he bared +his tiny fangs and snarled as fiercely as he could. + +To his further amazement this had no effect upon his strange company at +all, except that the three of them--even the Indian--opened their mouths +and joined in that loud and incomprehensible din, to which one of them +had given voice when he sank his teeth into his captor's leg on the +mountainside. It was all tremendously puzzling to Muskwa. + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + + +Greatly to Muskwa's relief the three men soon turned away from him and +began to busy themselves about the fire. This gave him a chance to escape, +and he pulled and tugged at the end of the rope until he nearly choked +himself to death. Finally he gave up in despair, and crumpling himself up +against the foot of the balsam he began to watch the camp. + +He was not more than thirty feet from the fire. Bruce was washing his hands +in a canvas basin. Langdon was mopping his face with a towel. Close to the +fire Metoosin was kneeling, and from the big black skittle he was holding +over the coals came the hissing and sputtering of fat caribou steaks, and +about the pleasantest smell that had ever come Muskwa's way. The air all +about him was heavy with the aroma of good things. + +When Langdon had finished drying his face he opened a can of something. It +was sweetened condensed milk. He poured the white fluid into a basin, and +came with it toward Muskwa. The cub had unsuccessfully attempted flight on +the ground until his neck was sore; now he climbed the tree. He went up so +quickly that Langdon was astonished, and he snarled and spat at the man as +the basin of milk was placed where he would almost fall into it when he +came down. + +Muskwa remained at the end of his rope up the tree, and for a long time the +hunters paid no more attention to him. He could see them eating and he +could hear them talking as they planned a new campaign against Thor. + +"We've got to trick him after what happened to-day," declared Bruce. "No +more tracking 'im after this, Jimmy. We can track until doomsday an' he'll +always know where we are." He paused for a moment and listened. "Funny the +dogs don't come," he said. "I wonder--" + +He looked at Langdon. + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the latter, as he read the significance of his +companion's look. "Bruce, you don't mean to say that bear might kill them +all!" + +"I've hunted a good many grizzlies," replied the mountaineer quietly, "but +I ain't never hunted a trickier one than this. Jimmy, he trapped them dogs +on the ledge, an' he tricked the dog he killed up on the peak. He's liable +to get 'em all into a corner, an' if that happens--" + +He shrugged his shoulders suggestively. + +Again Langdon listened. + +"If there were any alive at dark they should be here pretty soon," he said. +"I'm sorry, now--sorry we didn't leave the dogs at home." + +Bruce laughed a little grimly. + +"Fortunes o' war, Jimmy," he said. "You don't go hunting grizzlies with a +pack of lapdogs, an' you've got to expect to lose some of them sooner or +later. We've tackled the wrong bear, that's all. He's beat us." + +"Beat us?" + +"I mean he's beat us in a square game, an' we dealt a raw hand at that in +using dogs at all. Do you want that bear bad enough to go after him my +way?" + +Langdon nodded. + +"What's your scheme?" + +"You've got to drop pretty idees when you go grizzly hunting," began +Bruce. "And especially when you run up against a 'killer.' There won't be +any hour between now an' denning-up time that this grizzly doesn't get the +wind from all directions. How? He'll make detours. I'll bet if there was +snow on the ground you'd find him back-tracking two miles out of every six, +so he can get the wind of anything that's following him. An' he'll travel +mostly nights, layin' high up in the rocks an' shale during the day. If you +want any more shootin', there's just two things to do, an' the best of them +two things is to move on and find other bears." + +"Which I won't do, Bruce. What's your scheme for getting this one?" + +Bruce was silent for several moments before he replied. + +"We've got his range mapped out to a mile," he said then. "It begins up at +the first break we crossed, an' it ends down here where we came into this +valley. It's about twenty-five miles up an' down. He don't touch the +mount'ins west of this valley nor the mount'ins east of the other valleys +an' he's dead certain to keep on makin' circles so long as we're after +him. He's hikin' southward now on the other side of the range. + +"We'll lay here for a few days an' not move. Then we'll start Metoosin +through the valley over there with the dogs, if there's any left, and we'll +start south through this valley at the same time. One of us will keep to +the slopes an' the other to the bottom, an' we'll travel slow. Get the +idee? + +"That grizzly won't leave his country, an' Metoosin is pretty near bound to +drive him around to us. We'll let him do the open hunting an' we'll skulk. +The bear can't get past us both without giving one of us shooting." + +"It sounds good," agreed Langdon. "And I've got a lame knee that I'm not +unwilling to nurse for a few days." + +Scarcely were the words out of Langdon's mouth when a sudden rattle of +hobble-chains and the startled snort of a grazing horse out in the meadow +brought them both to their feet. + +"Utim!" whispered Metoosin, his dark face aglow in the firelight. + +"You're right--the dogs," said Bruce, and he whistled softly. + +They heard a movement in the brush near them, and a moment later two of +the dogs came into the firelight. They slunk in, half on their bellies, and +as they prostrated themselves at the hunters' feet a third and a fourth +joined them. + +They were not like the pack that had gone out that morning. There were deep +hollows in their sides; their wiry crests were flat; they were hard run, +and they knew that they were beaten. Their aggressiveness was gone, and +they had the appearance of whipped curs. + +A fifth came in out of the night. He was limping, and dragging a torn +foreleg. The head and throat of one of the others was red with blood. They +all lay flat on their bellies, as if expecting condemnation. + +"We have failed," their attitude said; "we are beaten, and this is all of +us that are left." + +Mutely Bruce and Langdon stared at them. They listened--waited. No other +came. And then they looked at each other. + +"Two more of them gone," said Langdon. + +Bruce turned to a pile of panniers and canvases and pulled out the +dog-leashes. Up in his tree Muskwa was all atremble. Within a few yards of +him he saw again the white-fanged horde that had chased Thor and had +driven him into the rock-crevice. Of the men he was no longer greatly +afraid. They had attempted him no harm, and he had ceased to quake and +snarl when one of them passed near. But the dogs were monsters. They had +given battle to Thor. They must have beaten him, for Thor had run away. + +The tree to which Muskwa was fastened was not much more than a sapling, and +he lay in the saddle of a crotch five feet from the ground when Metoosin +led one of the dogs past him. The Airedale saw him and made a sudden spring +that tore the leash from the Indian's hand. His leap carried him almost up +to Muskwa. He was about to make another spring when Langdon rushed forward +with a fierce cry, caught the dog by his collar, and with the end of the +leash gave him a sound beating. Then he led him away. + +This act puzzled Muskwa more than ever. The man had saved him. He had +beaten the monster with the red mouth and the white fangs, and all of those +monsters were now being taken away at the end of ropes. + +When Langdon returned he stopped close to Muskwa's tree and talked to him. +Muskwa allowed Langdon's hand to approach within six inches of him, and did +not snap at it. Then a strange and sudden thrill shot through him. While +his head was turned a little Langdon had boldly put his hand on his furry +back. And in the touch there was not hurt! His mother had never put her paw +on him as gently as that! + +Half a dozen times in the next ten minutes Langdon touched him. For the +first three or four times Muskwa bared his two rows of shining teeth, but +he made no sound. Gradually he ceased even to bare his teeth. + +Langdon left him then, and in a few moments he returned with a chunk of raw +caribou meat. He held this close to Muskwa's nose. Muskwa could smell it, +but he backed away from it, and at last Langdon placed it beside the basin +at the foot of the tree and returned to where Bruce was smoking. + +"Inside of two days he'll be eating out of my hand," he said. + +It was not long before the camp became very quiet. Langdon, Bruce, and the +Indian rolled themselves in their blankets and were soon asleep. The fire +burned lower and lower. Soon there was only a single smouldering log. An +owl hooted a little deeper in the timber. The drone of the valley and the +mountains filled the peaceful night. The stars grew brighter. Far away +Muskwa heard the rumbling of a boulder rolling down the side of a mountain. + +There was nothing to fear now. Everything was still and asleep but himself, +and very cautiously he began to back down the tree. He reached the foot of +it, loosed his hold, and half fell into the basin of condensed milk, a part +of it slopping up over his face. Involuntarily he shot out his tongue and +licked his chops, and the sweet, sticky stuff that it gathered filled him +with a sudden and entirely unexpected pleasure. For a quarter of an hour he +licked himself. And then, as if the secret of this delightful ambrosia had +just dawned upon him, his bright little eyes fixed themselves covetously +upon the tin basin. He approached it with commendable strategy and caution, +circling first on one side of it and then on the other, every muscle in his +body prepared for a quick spring backward if it should make a jump for +him. At last his nose touched the thick, luscious feast in the basin, and +he did not raise his head again until the last drop of it was gone. + +The condensed milk was the one biggest factor in the civilizing of Muskwa. +It was the missing link that connected certain things in his lively little +mind. He knew that the same hand that had touched him so gently had also +placed this strange and wonderful feast at the foot of his tree, and that +same hand had also offered him meat. He did not eat the meat, but he licked +the interior of the basin until it shone like a mirror in the starlight. + +In spite of the milk, he was still filled with a desire to escape, though +his efforts were not as frantic and unreasoning as they had been. +Experience had taught him that it was futile to jump and tug at the end of +his leash, and now he fell to chewing at the rope. Had he gnawed in one +place he would probably have won freedom before morning, but when his jaws +became tired he rested, and when he resumed his work it was usually at a +fresh place in the rope. By midnight his gums were sore, and he gave up his +exertions entirely. + +Humped close to the tree, ready to climb up it at the first sign of +danger, the cub waited for morning. Not a wink did he sleep. Even though he +was less afraid than he had been, he was terribly lonesome. He missed Thor, +and he whimpered so softly that the men a few yards away could not have +heard him had they been awake. If Pipoonaskoos had come into the camp then +he would have welcomed him joyfully. + +Morning came, and Metoosin was the first out of his blankets. He built a +fire, and this roused Bruce and Langdon. The latter, after he had dressed +himself, paid a visit to Muskwa, and when he found the basin licked clean +he showed his pleasure by calling the others' attention to what had +happened. + +Muskwa had climbed to his crotch in the tree, and again he tolerated the +stroking touch of Langdon's hand. Then Langdon brought forth another can +from a cowhide pannier and opened it directly under Muskwa, so that he +could see the creamy white fluid as it was turned into the basin. He held +the basin up to Muskwa, so close that the milk touched the cub's nose, and +for the life of him Muskwa could not keep his tongue in his mouth. Inside +of five minutes he was eating from the basin in Langdon's hand! But when +Bruce came up to watch the proceedings the cub bared all his teeth and +snarled. + +"Bears make better pets than dogs," affirmed Bruce a little later, when +they were eating breakfast. "He'll be following you around like a puppy in +a few days, Jimmy." + +"I'm getting fond of the little cuss already," replied Langdon. "What was +that you were telling me about Jameson's bears, Bruce?" + +"Jameson lived up in the Kootenay country," said Bruce. "Reg'lar hermit, I +guess you'd call him. Came out of the mountains only twice a year to get +grub. He made pets of grizzlies. For years he had one as big as this fellow +we're chasing. He got 'im when a cub, an 'when I saw him he weighed a +thousand pounds an' followed Jameson wherever he went like a dog. Even went +on his hunts with him, an 'they slept beside the same campfire. Jameson +loved bears, an' he'd never kill one." + +Langdon was silent. After a moment he said: "And I'm beginning to love +them, Bruce. I don't know just why, but there's something about bears that +makes you love them. I'm not going to shoot many more--perhaps none after +we get this dog-killer we're after. I almost believe he will be my last +bear." Suddenly he clenched his hands, and added angrily: "And to think +there isn't a province in the Dominion or a state south of the Border that +has a 'closed season' for bear! It's an outrage, Bruce. They're classed +with vermin, and can be exterminated at all seasons. They can even be dug +out of their dens with their young--and--so help me Heaven!--I've helped to +dig them out! We're beasts, Bruce. Sometimes I almost think it's a crime +for a man to carry a gun. And yet--I go on killing." + +"It's in our blood," laughed Bruce, unmoved. "Did you ever know a man, +Jimmy, that didn't like to see things die? Wouldn't every mother's soul of +'em go to a hanging if they had the chance? Won't they crowd like buzzards +round a dead horse to get a look at a man crushed to a pulp under a rock or +a locomotive engine? Why, Jimmie, if there weren't no law to be afraid of, +we humans'd be killing one another for the fun of it! We would. It's born +in us to want to kill." + +"And we take it all out on brute creation," mused Langdon. "After all, we +can't have much sympathy for ourselves if a generation or two of us are +killed in war, can we? Mebby you're right, Bruce. Inasmuch as we can't kill +our neighbours legally whenever we have the inclination, it's possible the +Chief Arbiter of things sends us a war now and then to relieve us +temporarily of our blood-thirstiness. Hello, what in thunder is the cub up +to now?" + +Muskwa had fallen the wrong way out of his crotch and was dangling like the +victim at the end of a hangman's rope. Langdon ran to him, caught him +boldly in his bare hands, lifted him up over the limb and placed him on the +ground. Muskwa did not snap at him or even growl. + +Bruce and Metoosin were away from camp all of that day, spying over the +range to the westward, and Langdon was left to doctor a knee which he had +battered against a rock the previous day. He spent most of his time in +company with Muskwa. He opened a can of their griddle-cake syrup and by +noon he had the cub following him about the tree and straining to reach the +dish which he held temptingly just out of reach. Then he would sit down, +and Muskwa would climb half over his lap to reach the syrup. + +At his present age Muskwa's affection and confidence were easily won. A +baby black bear is very much like a human baby: he likes milk, he loves +sweet things, and he wants to cuddle up close to any living thing that is +good to him. He is the most lovable creature on four legs--round and soft +and fluffy, and so funny that he is sure to keep every one about him in +good humour. More than once that day Langdon laughed until the tears came, +and especially when Muskwa made determined efforts to climb up his leg to +reach the dish of syrup. + +As for Muskwa, he had gone syrup mad. He could not remember that his mother +had ever given him anything like it, and Thor had produced nothing better +than fish. + +Late in the afternoon Langdon untied Muskwa's rope and led him for a stroll +down toward the creek. He carried the syrup dish and every few yards he +would pause and let the cub have a taste of its contents. After half an +hour of this manoeuvring he dropped his end of the leash entirely, and +walked campward. And Muskwa followed! It was a triumph, and in Langdon's +veins there pulsed a pleasurable thrill which his life in the open had +never brought to him before. + +It was late when Metoosin returned, and he was quite surprised that Bruce +had not shown up. Darkness came, and they built up the fire. They were +finishing supper an hour later when Bruce came in, carrying something swung +over his shoulders. He tossed it close to where Muskwa was hidden behind +his tree. + +"A skin like velvet, and some meat for the dogs," he said. "I shot it with +my pistol." + +He sat down and began eating. After a little Muskwa cautiously approached +the carcass that lay doubled up three or four feet from him. He smelled of +it, and a curious thrill shot through him. Then he whimpered softly as he +muzzled the soft fur, still warm with life. And for a time after that he +was very still. + +For the thing that Bruce had brought into camp and flung at the foot of his +tree was the dead body of little Pipoonaskoos! + + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN + + +That night the big loneliness returned to Muskwa. Bruce and Metoosin were +so tired after their hard climb over the range that they went to bed early, +and Langdon followed them, leaving Pipoonaskoos where Bruce had first +thrown him. + +Scarcely a move had Muskwa made after the discovery that had set his heart +beating a little faster. He did not know what death was, or what it meant, +and as Pipoonaskoos was so warm and soft he was sure that he would move +after a little. He had no inclination to fight him now. + +Again it grew very, very still, and the stars filled the sky, and the fire +burned low. But Pipoonaskoos did not move. Gently at first, Muskwa began +nosing him and pulling at his silken hair, and as he did this he whimpered +softly, as if saying, "I don't want to fight you any more, Pipoonaskoos! +Wake up, and let's be friends!" + +But still Pipoonaskoos did not stir, and at last Muskwa gave up all hope +of waking him. And still whimpering to his fat little enemy of the green +meadow how sorry he was that he had chased him, he snuggled close up to +Pipoonaskoos and in time went to sleep. + +Langdon was first up in the morning, and when he came over to see how +Muskwa had fared during the night he suddenly stopped, and for a full +minute he stood without moving, and then a low, strange cry broke from his +lips. For Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos were snuggled as closely as they could +have snuggled had both been living, and in some way Muskwa had arranged it +so that one of the dead cub's little paws was embracing him. + +Quietly Langdon returned to where Bruce was sleeping, and in a minute or +two Bruce returned with him, rubbing his eyes. And then he, too, stared, +and the men looked at each other. + +"Dog meat," breathed Langdon. "You brought it home for dog meat, Bruce!" + +Bruce did not answer, Langdon said nothing more, and neither talked very +much for a full hour after that. During that hour Metoosin came and dragged +Pipoonaskoos away, and instead of being skinned and fed to the dogs he was +put into a hole down in the creek-bottom and covered with sand and stones. +That much, at least, Bruce and Langdon did for Pipoonaskoos. + +This day Metoosin and Bruce again went over the range. The mountaineer had +brought back with him bits of quartz in which were unmistakable signs of +gold, and they returned with an outfit for panning. + +Langdon continued his education of Muskwa. Several times he took the cub +near the dogs, and when they snarled and strained at the ends of their +leashes he whipped them, until with quick understanding they gripped the +fact that Muskwa, although a bear, must not be harmed. + +In the afternoon of this second day he freed the cub entirely from the +rope, and he had no difficulty in recapturing it when he wanted to tie it +up again. The third and fourth days Bruce and the Indian explored the +valley west of the range and convinced themselves finally that the +"colours" they found were only a part of the flood-drifts, and would not +lead to fortune. + +On this fourth night, which happened to be thick with clouds, and chilly, +Langdon experimented by taking Muskwa to bed with him. He expected trouble. +But Muskwa was as quiet as a kitten, and once he found a proper nest for +himself he scarcely made a move until morning. A part of the night Langdon +slept with one of his hands resting on the cub's soft, warm body. + +According to Bruce it was now time to continue the hunt for Thor, but a +change for the worse in Langdon's knee broke in upon their plans. It was +impossible for Langdon to walk more than a quarter of a mile at a time, and +the position he was compelled to take in the saddle caused him so much pain +that to prosecute the hunt even on horseback was out of the question. + +"A few more days won't hurt any," consoled Bruce. "If we give the old +fellow a longer rest he may get a bit careless." + +The three days that followed were not without profit and pleasure for +Langdon. Muskwa was teaching him more than he had ever known about bears, +and especially bear cubs, and he made notes voluminously. + +The dogs were now confined to a clump of trees fully three hundred yards +from the camp, and gradually the cub was given his freedom. He made no +effort to run away, and he soon discovered that Bruce and Metoosin were +also his friends. But Langdon was the only one he would follow. + +On the morning of the eighth day after their pursuit of Thor, Bruce and +Metoosin rode over into the eastward valley with the dogs. Metoosin was to +have a day's start, and Bruce planned to return to camp that afternoon so +that he and Langdon could begin their hunt up the valley the next day. + +It was a glorious morning. A cool breeze came from the north and west, and +about nine o'clock Langdon fastened Muskwa to his tree, saddled a horse, +and rode down the valley. He had no intention of hunting. It was a joy +merely to ride and breathe in the face of that wind and gaze upon the +wonders of the mountains. + +He travelled northward for three or four miles, until he came to a broad, +low slope that broke through the range to the westward. A desire seized +upon him to look over into the other valley, and as his knee was giving him +no trouble he cut a zigzag course upward that in half an hour brought him +almost to the top. + +Here he came to a short, steep slide that compelled him to dismount and +continue on foot. At the summit he found himself on a level sweep of +meadow, shut in on each side of him by the bare rock walls of the split +mountains, and a quarter of a mile ahead he could see where the meadow +broke suddenly into the slope that shelved downward into the valley he was +seeking. + +Halfway over this quarter of a mile of meadow there was a dip into which he +could not see, and as he came to the edge of this he flung himself suddenly +upon his face and for a minute or two lay as motionless as a rock. Then he +slowly raised his head. + +A hundred yards from him, gathered about a small water-hole in the hollow, +was a herd of goats. There were thirty or more, most of them Nannies with +young kids. Langdon could make out only two Billies in the lot. For half an +hour he lay still and watched them. Then one of the Nannies struck out with +her two kids for the side of the mountain; another followed, and seeing +that the whole band was about to move, Langdon rose quickly to his feet and +ran as fast as he could toward them. + +For a moment Nannies, Billies, and little kids were paralyzed by his +sudden appearance. They faced half about and stood as if without the power +of flight until he had covered half the distance between t hem. Then their +wits seemed to return all at once, and they broke in a wild panic for the +side of the nearest mountain. Their hoofs soon began to clatter on boulder +and shale, and for another half-hour Langdon heard the hollow booming of +the rocks loosened by their feet high up among the crags and peaks. At the +end of that time they were infinitesimal white dots on the sky-line. + +He went on, and a few minutes later looked down into the other valley. +Southward this valley was shut out from his vision by a huge shoulder of +rock. It was not very high, and he began to climb it. He had almost reached +the top when his toe caught in a piece of slate, and in falling he brought +his rifle down with tremendous force on a boulder. + +He was not hurt, except for a slight twinge in his lame knee. But his gun +was a wreck. The stock was shattered close to the breech and a twist of his +hand broke it off entirely. + +As he carried two extra rifles in his outfit the mishap did not disturb +Langdon as much as it might otherwise have done, and he continued to climb +over the rocks until he came to what appeared to be a broad, smooth ledge +leading around the sandstone spur of the mountain. A hundred feet farther +on he found that the ledge ended in a perpendicular wall of rock. From this +point, however, he had a splendid view of the broad sweep of country +between the two ranges to the south. He sat down, pulled out his pipe, and +prepared to enjoy the magnificent panorama under him while he was getting +his wind. + +Through his glasses he could see for miles, and what he looked upon was an +unhunted country. Scarcely half a mile away a band of caribou was filing +slowly across the bottom toward the green slopes to the west. He caught the +glint of many ptarmigan wings in the sunlight below. After a time, fully +two miles away, he saw sheep grazing on a thinly verdured slide. + +He wondered how many valleys there were like this in the vast reaches of +the Canadian mountains that stretched three hundred miles from sea to +prairie and a thousand miles north and south. Hundreds, even thousands, he +told himself, and each wonderful valley a world complete within itself; a +world filled with its own life, its own lakes and streams and forests, its +own joys and its own tragedies. + +Here in this valley into which he gazed was the same soft droning and the +same warm sunshine that had filled all the other valleys; and yet here, +also, was a different life. Other bears ranged the slopes that he could see +dimly with his naked eyes far to the west and north. It was a new domain, +filled with other promise and other mystery, and he forgot time and hunger +as he sat lost in the enchantment of it. + +It seemed to Langdon that these hundreds or thousands of valleys would +never grow old for him; that he could wander on for all time, passing from +one into another, and that each would possess its own charm, its own +secrets to be solved, its own life to be learned. To him they were largely +inscrutable; they were cryptic, as enigmatical as life itself, hiding their +treasures as they droned through the centuries, giving birth to multitudes +of the living, demanding in return other multitudes of the dead. As he +looked off through the sunlit space he wondered what the story of this +valley would be, and how many volumes it would fill, if the valley itself +could tell it. + +First of all, he knew, it would whisper of the creation of a world; it +would tell of oceans torn and twisted and thrown aside--of those first +strange eons of time when there was no night, but all was day; when weird +and tremendous monsters stalked where he now saw the caribou drinking at +the creek, and when huge winged creatures half bird and half beast swept +the sky where he now saw an eagle soaring. + +And then it would tell of The Change--of that terrific hour when the earth +tilted on its axis, and night came, and a tropical world was turned into a +frigid one, and new kinds of life were born to fill it. + +It must have been long after that, thought Langdon, that the first bear +came to replace the mammoth, the mastodon, and the monstrous beasts that +had been their company. And that first bear was the forefather of the +grizzly he and Bruce were setting forth to kill the next day! + +So engrossed was Langdon in his thoughts that he did not hear a sound +behind him. And then something roused him. + +It was as if one of the monsters he had been picturing in his imagination +had let out a great breath close to him. He turned slowly, and the next +moment his heart seemed to stop its beating; his blood seemed to grow cold +and lifeless in his veins. + +Barring the ledge not more than fifteen feet from him, his great jaws +agape, his head moving slowly from side to side as he regarded his trapped +enemy, stood Thor, the King of the Mountains! + +And in that space of a second or two Langdon's hands involuntarily gripped +at his broken rifle, and he decided that he was doomed! + + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + + +A broken, choking breath--a stifled sound that was scarcely a cry--was all +that came from Langdon's lips as he saw the monstrous grizzly looking at +him. In the ten seconds that followed he lived hours. + +His first thought was that he was powerless--utterly powerless. He could +not even run, for the rock wall was behind him; he could not fling himself +valleyward, for there was a sheer fall of a hundred feet on that side. He +was face to face with death, a death as terrible as that which had +overtaken the dogs. + +And yet in these last moments Langdon did not lose himself in terror. He +noted even the redness in the avenging grizzly's eyes. He saw the naked +scat along his back where one of his bullets had plowed; he saw the bare +spot where another of his bullets had torn its way through Thor's +fore-shoulder. And he believed, as he observed these things, that Thor had +deliberately trailed him, that the bear had followed him along the ledge +and had cornered him here that he might repay in full measure what had been +inflicted upon him. + +Thor advanced--just one step; and then in that slow, graceful movement, +reared himself to full height. Langdon, even then, thought that he was +magnificent. On his part, the man did not move; he looked steadily up at +Thor, and he had made up his mind what to do when the great beast lunged +forward. He would fling himself over the edge. Down below there was one +chance in a thousand for life. There might be a ledge or a projecting spur +to catch him. + +And Thor! + +Suddenly--unexpectedly--he had come upon man! This was the creature that +had hunted him, this was the creature that had hurt him--and it was so near +that he could reach out with his paw and crush it! And how weak, and white, +and shrinking it looked now! Where was its strange thunder? Where was its +burning lightning? Why did it make no sound? + +Even a dog would have done more than this creature, for the dog would have +shown its fangs; it would have snarled, it would have fought. But this +thing that was man did nothing. And a great, slow doubt swept through +Thor's massive head. Was it really this shrinking, harmless, terrified +thing that had hurt him? He smelled the man-smell. It was thick. And yet +this time there came with it no hurt. + +And then, slowly again, Thor came down to all fours. Steadily he looked at +the man. + +Had Langdon moved then he would have died. But Thor was not, like man, a +murderer. For another half-minute he waited for a hurt, for some sign of +menace. Neither came, and he was puzzled. His nose swept the ground, and +Langdon saw the dust rise where the grizzly's hot breath stirred it. And +after that, for another long and terrible thirty seconds, the bear and the +man looked at each other. + +Then very slowly--and doubtfully--Thor half turned. He growled. His lips +drew partly back. Yet he saw no reason to fight, for that shrinking, +white-faced pigmy crouching on the rock made no movement to offer him +battle. He saw that he could not go on, for the ledge was blocked by the +mountain wall. Had there been a trail the story might have been different +for Langdon. As it was, Thor disappeared slowly in the direction from which +he had come, his great head hung low, his long claws click, click, clicking +like ivory castanets as he went. + +Not until then did it seem to Langdon that he breathed again, and that his +heart resumed its beating. He gave a great sobbing gasp. He rose to his +feet, and his legs seemed weak. He waited--one minute, two, three; and then +he stole cautiously to the twist in the ledge around which Thor had gone. + +The rocks were clear, and he began to retrace his own steps toward the +meadowy break, watching and listening, and still clutching the broken parts +of his rifle. When he came to the edge of the plain he dropped down behind +a huge boulder. + +Three hundred yards away Thor was ambling slowly over the crest of the dip +toward the eastward valley. Not until the bear reappeared on the farther +ridge of the hollow, and then vanished again, did Langdon follow. + +When he reached the slope on which he had hobbled his horse Thor was no +longer in sight. The horse was where he had left it. Not until he was in +the saddle did Langdon feel that he was completely safe. Then he laughed, a +nervous, broken, joyous sort of laugh, and as he scanned the valley he +filled his pipe with fresh tobacco. + +"You great big god of a bear!" he whispered, and every fibre in him was +trembling in a wonderful excitement as he found voice for the first time. +"You--you monster with a heart bigger than man!" And then he added, under +his breath, as if not conscious that he was speaking: "If I'd cornered you +like that I'd have killed you! And you! You cornered me, and let me live!" + +He rode toward camp, and as he went he knew that this day had given the +final touch to the big change that had been working in him. He had met the +King of the Mountains; he had stood face to face with death, and in the +last moment the four-footed thing he had hunted and maimed had been +merciful. He believed that Bruce would not understand; that Bruce could not +understand; but unto himself the day and the hour had brought its meaning +in a way that he would not forget so long as he lived, and he knew that +hereafter and for all time he would not again hunt the life of Thor, or the +lives of any of his kind. + +Langdon reached the camp and prepared himself some dinner, and as he ate +this, with Muskwa for company, he made new plans for the days and weeks +that were to follow. He would send Bruce back to overtake Metoosin the next +day, and they would no longer hunt the big grizzly. They would go on to the +Skeena and possibly even up to the edge of the Yukon, and then swing +eastward into the caribou country some time early in September, hitting +back toward civilization on the prairie side of the Rockies. He would take +Muskwa with them. Back in the land of men and cities they would be great +friends. It did not occur to him just then what this would mean for Muskwa. + +It was two o'clock, and he was still dreaming of new and unknown trails +into the North when a sound came to rouse and disturb him. For a few +minutes he paid no attention to it, for it seemed to be only a part of the +droning murmur of the valley. But slowly and steadily it rose above this, +and at last he got up from where he was lying with his back to a tree and +walked out from the timber, where he could hear more plainly. + +Muskwa followed him, and when Langdon stopped the tan-faced cub also +stopped. His little ears shot out inquisitively. He turned his head to the +north. From that direction the sound was coming. + +In another moment Langdon had recognized it, and yet even then he told +himself that his ears must be playing him false. It could not be the +barking of dogs! By this time Bruce and Metoosin were far to the south with +the pack; at least Metoosin should be, and Bruce was on his return to the +camp! Quickly the sound grew more distinct, and at last he knew that he +could not be mistaken. The dogs were coming up the valley. Something had +turned Bruce and Metoosin northward instead of into the south. And the pack +was giving tongue--that fierce, heated baying which told him they were +again on the fresh spoor of game. A sudden thrill shot through him. There +could be but one living thing in the length and breadth of the valley that +Bruce would set the dogs after, and that was the big grizzly! + +For a few moments longer Langdon stood and listened. Then he hurried back +to camp, tied Muskwa to his tree, armed himself with another rifle, and +resaddled his horse. Five minutes later he was riding swiftly in the +direction of the range where a short time before Thor had given him his +life. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + + +Thor heard the dogs when they were a mile away. There were two reasons why +he was even less in a mood to run from them now than a few days before. Of +the dogs alone he had no more fear than if they had been so many badgers, +or so many whistlers piping at him from the rocks. He had found them all +mouth and little fang, and easy to kill. It was what followed close after +them that disturbed him. But to-day he had stood face to face with the +thing that had brought the strange scent into his valleys, and it had not +offered to hurt him, and he had refused to kill it. Besides, he was again +seeking Iskwao, the she-bear, and man is not the only animal that will risk +his life for love. + +After killing his last dog at dusk of that fatal day when they had pursued +him over the mountain Thor had done just what Bruce thought that he would +do, and instead of continuing southward had made a wider detour toward the +north, and the third night after the fight and the loss of Muskwa he found +Iskwao again. In the twilight of that same evening Pipoonaskoos had died, +and Thor had heard the sharp cracking of Bruce's automatic. All that night +and the next day and the night that followed he spent with Iskwao, and then +he left her once more. A third time he was seeking her when he found +Langdon in the trap on the ledge, and he had not yet got wind of her when +he first heard the baying of the dogs on his trail. + +He was travelling southward, which brought him nearer the hunters' camp. He +was keeping to the high slopes where there were little dips and meadows, +broken by patches of shale, deep coulees, and occasionally wild upheavals +of rock. He was keeping the wind straight ahead so that he would not fail +to catch the smell of Iskwao when he came near her, and with the baying of +the dogs he caught no scent of the pursuing beasts, or of the two men who +were riding behind them. + +At another time he would have played his favourite trick of detouring so +that the danger would be ahead of him, with the wind in his favour. Caution +had now become secondary to his desire to find his mate. The dogs were +less than half a mile away when he stopped suddenly, sniffed the air for a +moment, and then went on swiftly until he was halted by a narrow ravine. + +Up that ravine Iskwao was coming from a dip lower down the mountain, and +she was running. The yelping of the pack was fierce and close when Thor +scrambled down in time to meet her as she rushed upward. Iskwao paused for +a single moment, smelled noses with Thor, and then went on, her ears laid +back flat and sullen and her throat filled with growling menace. + +Thor followed her, and he also growled. He knew that his mate was fleeing +from the dogs, and again that deadly and slowly increasing wrath swept +through him as he climbed after her higher up the mountain. + +In such an hour as this Thor was at his worst. He was a fighter when +pursued as the dogs had pursued him a week before--but he was a demon, +terrible and without mercy, when danger threatened his mate. + +He fell farther and farther behind Iskwao, and twice lie turned, his fangs +gleaming under drawn lips, and his defiance rolling back upon his enemies +in low thunder. + +When he came up out of the coulee he was in the shadow of the peak, and +Iskwao had already disappeared in her skyward scramble. Where she had gone +was a wild chaos of rock-slide and the piled-up débris of fallen and +shattered masses of sandstone crag. The sky-line was not more than three +hundred yards above him. He looked up. Iskwao was among the rocks, and here +was the place to fight. The dogs were close upon him now. They were coming +up the last stretch of the coulee, baying loudly. Thor turned about, and +waited for them. + +Half a mile to the south, looking through his glasses, Langdon saw Thor, +and at almost the same instant the dogs appeared over the edge of the +coulee. He had ridden halfway up the mountain; from that point he had +climbed higher, and was following a well-beaten sheep trail at about the +same altitude as Thor. From where he stood the valley lay under his glasses +for miles. He did not have far to look to discover Bruce and the Indian. +They were dismounting at the foot of the coulee, and as he gazed they ran +quickly into it and disappeared. + +Again Langdon swung back to Thor. The dogs were holding him now, and he +knew there was no chance of the grizzly killing them in that open space. +Then he saw movement among the rocks higher up, and a low cry of +understanding broke from his lips as he made out Iskwao climbing steadily +toward the ragged peak. He knew that this second bear was a female. The big +grizzly--her mate--had stopped to fight. And there was no hope for him if +the dogs succeeded in holding him for a matter of ten or fifteen minutes. +Bruce and Metoosin would appear in that time over the rim of the coulee at +a range of less than a hundred yards! + +Langdon thrust his binoculars in their case and started at a run along the +sheep trail. For two hundred yards his progress was easy, and then the +patch broke into a thousand individual tracks on a slope of soft and +slippery shale, and it took him five minutes to make the next fifty yards. + +The trail hardened again. He ran on pantingly, and for another five minutes +the shoulder of a ridge hid Thor and the dogs from him. When he came over +that ridge and ran fifty yards, down the farther side of it, he stopped +short. Further progress was barred by a steep ravine. He was five hundred +yards from where Thor stood with his back to the rocks and his huge head to +the pack. + +Even as he looked, struggling to get breath enough to shout, Langdon +expected to see Bruce and Metoosin appear out of the coulee. It flashed +upon him then that even if he could make them hear it would be impossible +for them to understand him. Bruce would not guess that he wanted to spare +the beast they had been hunting for almost two weeks. + +Thor had rushed the dogs a full twenty yards toward the coulee when Langdon +dropped quickly behind a rock. There was only one way of saving him now, if +he was not too late. The pack had retreated a few yards down the slope, and +he aimed at the pack. One thought only filled his brain--he must sacrifice +his dogs or let Thor die. And that day Thor had given him his life! + +There was no hesitation as he pressed the trigger. It was a long shot, and +the first bullet threw up a cloud of dust fifty feet short of the +Airedales. He fired again, and missed. The third time his rifle cracked +there answered it a sharp yelp of pain which Laagdon himself did not hear. +One of the dogs rolled over and over down the slope. + +The reports of the shots alone had not stirred Thor, but now when he saw +one of his enemies crumple up and go rolling down the mountain he turned +slowly toward the safety of the rocks. A fourth and then a fifth shot +followed, and at the fifth the yelping dogs dropped back toward the coulee, +one of them limping with a shattered fore-foot. + +Langdon sprang upon the boulder over which he had rested his gun, and his +eyes caught the sky-line. Iskwao had just reached the top. She paused for a +moment and looked down. Then she disappeared. + +Thor was now hidden among the boulders and broken masses of sandstone, +following her trail. Within two minutes after the grizzly disappeared Bruce +and Metoosin scrambled up over the edge of the coulee. From where they +stood even the sky-line was within fairly good shooting distance, and +Langdon suddenly began shouting excitedly, waving his arms, and pointing +downward. + +Bruce and Metoosin were caught by his ruse, in spite of the fact that the +dogs were again giving fierce tongue close to the rocks among which Thor +had gone. They believed that from where he stood Langdon could see the +progress of the bear, and that it was running toward the valley. Not until +they were another hundred yards down the slope did they stop and look back +at Langdon to get further directions. From his rock Langdon was pointing to +the sky-line. + +Thor was just going over. He paused for a moment, as Iskwao had stopped, +and took one last look at man. + +And Langdon, as he saw the last of him, waved his hat and shouted, "Good +luck to you, old man--good luck!" + + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN + + +That night Langdon and Bruce made their new plans, while Metoosin sat +aloof, smoking in stolid silence, and gazing now and then at Langdon as if +he could not yet bring himself to the point of believing what had happened +that afternoon. Thereafter through many moons Metoosin would never forget +to relate to his children and his grandchildren and his friends of the +tepee tribes how he had once hunted with a white man who had shot his own +dogs to save the life of a grizzly bear. Langdon was no longer the same old +Langdon to him, and after this hunt Metoosin knew that he would never hunt +with him again. For Langdon was _keskwao_ now. Something had gone wrong in +his head. The Great Spirit had taken away his heart and had given it to a +grizzly bear, and over his pipe Metoosin watched him cautiously. This +suspicion was confirmed when he saw Bruce and Langdon making a cage out of +a cowhide pannier and realized that the cub was to accompany them on their +long journey. There was no doubt in his mind now. Langdon was "queer," and +to an Indian that sort of queerness boded no good to man. + +The next morning at sunrise the outfit was ready for its long trail into +the northland. Bruce and Langdon led the way up the slope and over the +divide into the valley where they had first encountered Thor, the train +filing picturesquely behind them, with Metoosin bringing up the rear. In +his cowhide pannier rode Muskwa. + +Langdon was satisfied and happy. + +"It was the best hunt of my life," he said to Bruce. "I'll never be sorry +we let him live." + +"You're the doctor," said Bruce rather irreverently. "If I had my way about +it his hide would be back there on Dishpan. Almost any tourist down on the +line of rail would jump for it at a hundred dollars." + +"He's worth several thousand to me alive," replied Langdon, with which +enigmatic retort he dropped behind to see how Muskwa was riding. + +The cub was rolling and pitching about in his pannier like a raw amateur +in a howdab on an elephant's back, and after contemplating him for a few +moments Langdon caught up with Bruce again. + +Half a dozen times during the next two or three hours he visited Muskwa, +and each time that he returned to Bruce he was quieter, as if debating +something with himself. + +It was nine o'clock when they came to what was undoubtedly the end of +Thor's valley. A mountain rose up squarely in the face of it, and the +stream they were following swung sharply to the westward into a narrow +canyon. On the east rose a green and undulating slope up which the horses +could easily travel, and which would take the outfit into a new valley in +the direction of the Driftwood. This course Bruce decided to pursue. + +Halfway up the slope they stopped to give the horses a breathing spell. In +his cowhide prison Muskwa whimpered pleadingly. Langdon heard, but he +seemed to pay no attention. He was looking steadily back into the valley. +It was glorious in the morning sun. He could see the peaks under which lay +the cool, dark lake in which Thor had fished; for miles the slopes were +like green velvet and there came to him as he looked the last droning music +of Thor's world. It struck him in a curious way as a sort of anthem, a +hymnal rejoicing that he was going, and that he was leaving things as they +were before he came. And yet, _was_ he leaving things as they had been? Did +his ears not catch in that music of the mountains something of sadness, of +grief, of plaintive prayer? + +And again, close to him, Muskwa whimpered softly. + +Then Langdon turned to Bruce. + +"It's settled," he said, and his words had a decisive ring in them. "I've +been trying to make up my mind all the morning, and it's made up now. You +and Metoosin go on when the horses get their wind. I'm going to ride down +there a mile or so and free the cub where he'll find his way back home!" + +He did not wait for arguments or remarks, and Bruce made none. He took +Muskwa in his arms and rode back into the south. + +A mile up the valley Langdon came to a wide, open meadow dotted with clumps +of spruce and willows and sweet with the perfume of flowers. Here he +dismounted, and for ten minutes sat on the ground with Muskwa. From his +pocket he drew forth a small paper bag and fed the cub its last sugar. A +thick lump grew in his throat as Muskwa's soft little nose muzzled the palm +of his hand, and when at last he jumped up and sprang into his saddle there +was a mist in his eyes. He tried to laugh. Perhaps he was weak. But he +loved Muskwa, and he knew that he was leaving more than a human friend in +this mountain valley. + +"Good-bye, old fellow," he said, and his voice was choking. "Good-bye, +little Spitfire! Mebby some day I'll come back and see you, and you'll be a +big, fierce bear--but I won't shoot--never--never--" + +He rode fast into the north. Three hundred yards away he turned his head +and looked back. Muskwa was following, but losing ground. Langdon waved his +hand. + +"Good-bye!" he called through the lump in his throat. "Good-bye!" + +Half an hour later he looked down from the top of the slope through his +glasses. He saw Muskwa, a black dot. The cub had stopped, and was waiting +confidently for him to return. + +And trying to laugh again, but failing dismally, Langdon rode over the +divide and out of Muskwa's life. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY + + +For a good half-mile Muskwa followed over the trail of Langdon. He ran at +first; then he walked; finally he stopped entirely and sat down like a dog, +facing the distant slope. Had Langdon been afoot he would not have halted +until he was tired. But the cub had not liked his pannier prison. He +had been tremendously jostled and bounced about, and twice the horse +that carried him had shaken himself, and those shakings had been like +earthquakes to Muskwa. He knew that the cage as well as Langdon was ahead +of him. He sat for a time and whimpered wistfully, but he went no farther. +He was sure that the friend he had grown to love would return after a +little. He always came back. He had never failed him. So he began to hunt +about for a spring beauty or a dog-tooth violet, and for some time he was +careful not to stray very far away from where the outfit had passed. + +All that day the cub remained in the flower-strewn meadows under the +slope; it was very pleasant in the sunshine, and he found more than one +patch of the bulbous roots he liked. He dug, and he filled himself, and he +took a nap in the afternoon; but when the sun began to go down and the +heavy shadows of the mountain darkened the valley he began to grow afraid. + +He was still a very small baby of a cub, and only that one dreadful night +after his mother had died had he spent entirely alone. Thor had replaced +mother, and Langdon had taken the place of Thor, so that until now he had +never felt the loneliness and emptiness of darkness. He crawled under a +clump of thorn close to the trail, and continued to wait, and listen, and +sniff expectantly. The stars came out clear and brilliant, but to-night +their lure was not strong enough to call him forth. Not until dawn did he +steal out cautiously from his shelter of thorn. + +The sun gave him courage and confidence again and he began wandering back +through the valley, the scent of the horse-trail growing fainter and +fainter until at last it disappeared entirely. That day Muskwa ate some +grass and a few dog-tooth violet roots, and when the second night came he +was abreast of the slope over which the outfit had come from the valley in +which were Thor and Iskwao. He was tired and hungry, and he was utterly +lost. + +That night he slept in the end of a hollow log. The next day he went on, +and for many days and many nights after that he was alone in the big +valley. He passed close to the pool where Thor and he had met the old bear, +and he nosed hungrily among the fishbones; he skirted the edge of the dark, +deep lake; he saw the shadowy things fluttering in the gloom of the forest +again; he passed over the beaver dam, and he slept for two nights close to +the log-jam from which he had watched Thor throw out their first fish. He +was almost forgetting Langdon now, and was thinking more and more about +Thor and his mother. He wanted them. He wanted them more than he had ever +wanted the companionship of man, for Muskwa was fast becoming a creature of +the wild again. + +It was the beginning of August before the cub came to the break in the +valley and climbed up the slope where Thor had first heard the thunder and +had first felt the sting of the white men's guns. In these two weeks Muskwa +had grown rapidly, in spite of the fact that he often went to bed on an +empty stomach; and he was no longer afraid of the dark. Through the deep, +sunless canyon above the clay wallow he went, and as there was only one way +out he came at last to the summit of the break over which Thor had gone, +and over which Langdon and Bruce had followed in close pursuit. And the +other valley--his home--lay under Muskwa. + +Of course he did not recognize it. He saw and smelled in it nothing that +was familiar. But it was such a beautiful valley, and so abundantly filled +with plenty and sunshine, that he did not hurry through it. He found whole +gardens of spring beauties and dog-tooth violets. And on the third day he +made his first real kill. He almost stumbled over a baby whistler no larger +than a red squirrel, and before the little creature could escape he was +upon it. It made him a splendid feast. + +It was fully a week before he passed along the creek-bottom close under the +slope where his mother had died. If he had been travelling along the crest +of the slope he would have found her bones, picked clean by the wild +things. It was another week before he came to the little meadow where Thor +had killed the bull caribou and the big black bear. + +And now Muskwa knew that he was home! + +For two days he did not travel two hundred yards from the scene of feast +and battle, and night and day he was on the watch for Thor. Then he had to +seek farther for food, but each afternoon when the mountains began to throw +out long shadows he would return to the clump of trees in which they had +made the cache that the black bear robber had despoiled. + +One day he went farther than usual in his quest for roots. He was a good +half-mile from the place he had made home, and he was sniffing about the +end of a rock when a great shadow fell suddenly upon him. He looked up, and +for a full half-minute he stood transfixed, his heart pounding and jumping +as it had never pounded and jumped before in his life. Within five feet of +him stood Thor! The big grizzly was as motionless as he, looking at him +steadily. And then Muskwa gave a puppy-like whine of joy and ran forward. +Thor lowered his huge head, and for another half-minute they stood without +moving, with Thor's nose buried in the hair on Muskwa's back. After that +Thor went up the slope as if the cub had never been lost at all, and Muskwa +followed him happily. + +Many days of wonderful travel and of glorious feasting came after this, and +Thor led Muskwa into a thousand new places in the two valleys and the +mountains between. There were great fishing days, and there was another +caribou killed over the range, and Muskwa grew fatter and fatter and +heavier and heavier until by the middle of September he was as large as a +good-sized dog. + +Then came the berries, and Thor knew where they all grew low down in the +valleys--first the wild red raspberries, then the soap berries, and after +those the delicious black currants which grew in the cool depths of the +forests and were almost as large as cherries and nearly as sweet as the +sugar which Langdon had fed Muskwa. Muskwa liked the black currants best of +all. They grew in thick, rich clusters; there were no leaves on the bushes +that were loaded with them, and he could pick and eat a quart in five +minutes. + +But at last the time came when there were no berries. This was in October. +The nights were very cold, and for whole days at a time the sun would not +shine, and the skies were dark and heavy with clouds. On the peaks the snow +was growing deeper and deeper, and it never thawed now up near the +sky-line. Snow fell in the valley, too--at first just enough to make a +white carpet that chilled Muskwa's feet, but it quickly disappeared. Raw +winds began to come out of the north, and in place of the droning music of +the valley in summertime there were now shrill wailings and screechings at +night, and the trees made mournful sounds. + +To Muskwa the whole world seemed changing. He wondered in these chill and +dark days why Thor kept to the windswept slopes when he might have found +shelter in the bottoms. And Thor, if he explained to him at all, told him +that winter was very near, and that these slopes were their last feeding +grounds. In the valleys the berries were gone; grass and roots alone were +no longer nourishing enough for their bodies; they could no longer waste +time in seeking ants and grubs; the fish were in deep water. It was the +season when the caribou were keen-scented as foxes and swift as the wind. +Only along the slopes lay the dinners they were sure of--famine-day dinners +of whistlers and gophers. Thor dug for them now, and in this digging Muskwa +helped as much as he could. More than once they turned out wagonloads of +earth to get at the cozy winter sleeping quarters of a whistler family, and +sometimes they dug for hours to capture three or four little gophers no +larger than red squirrels, but lusciously fat. + +Thus they lived through the last days of October into November. And now the +snow and the cold winds and the fierce blizzards from the north came in +earnest, and the ponds and lakes began to freeze over. Still Thor hung to +the slopes, and Muskwa shivered with the cold at night and wondered if the +sun was never going to shine again. + +One day about the middle of November Thor stopped in the very act of +digging out a family of whistlers, went straight down into the valley, and +struck southward in a most businesslike way. They were ten miles from the +clay-wallow canyon when they started, but so lively was the pace set by the +big grizzly that they reached it before dark that same afternoon. + +For two days after this Thor seemed to have no object in life at all. +There was nothing in the canyon to eat, and he wandered about among the +rocks, smelling and listening and deporting himself generally in a fashion +that was altogether mystifying to Muskwa. In the afternoon of the second +day Thor stopped in a dump of jackpines under which the ground was strewn +with fallen needles. He began to eat these needles. They did not look good +to Muskwa, but something told the cub that he should do as Thor was doing; +so he licked them up and swallowed them, not knowing that it was nature's +last preparation for his long sleep. + +It was four o'clock when they came to the mouth of the deep cavern in which +Thor was born, and here again Thor paused, sniffing up and down the wind, +and waiting for nothing in particular. + +It was growing dark. A wailing storm hung over the canyon. Biting winds +swept down from the peaks, and the sky was black and full of snow. + +For a minute the grizzly stood with his head and shoulders in the cavern +door. Then he entered. Muskwa followed. Deep back they went through a +pitch-black gloom, and it grew warmer and warmer, and the wailing of the +wind died away until it was only a murmur. + +It took Thor at least half an hour to arrange himself just as he wanted to +sleep. Then Muskwa curled up beside him. The cub was very warm and very +comfortable. + +That night the storm raged, and the snow fell deep. It came up the canyon +in clouds, and it drifted down through the canyon roof in still thicker +clouds, and all the world was buried deep. When morning came there was no +cavern door, there were no rocks, and no black and purple of tree and +shrub. All was white and still, and there was no longer the droning music +in the valley. + +Deep back in the cavern Muskwa moved restlessly. Thor heaved a deep sigh. +After that long and soundly they slept. And it may be that they dreamed. + + + + +THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN + + +"You are going up from among a people who have many gods to a people who +have but one," said Ransom quietly, looking across at the other. "It would +be better for you if you turned back. I've spent four years in the +Government service, mostly north of Fifty-three, and I know what I'm +talking about. I've read all of your books carefully, and I tell you +now--go back. If you strike up into the Bay country, as you say you're +going to, every dream of socialism you ever had will be shattered, and you +will laugh at your own books. Go back!" + +Roscoe's fine young face lighted up with a laugh at his old college chum's +seriousness. + +"You're mistaken, Ranny," he said. "I'm not a socialist but a sociologist. +There's a distinction, isn't there? I don't believe that my series of books +will be at all complete without a study of socialism as it exists in its +crudest form, and as it must exist up here in the North. My material for +this last book will show what tremendous progress the civilization of two +centuries on this continent has made over the lowest and wildest forms of +human brotherhood. That's my idea, Ranny. I'm an optimist. I believe that +every invention we make, that every step we take in the advancement of +science, of mental and physical uplift, brings us just so much nearer to +the Nirvana of universal love. This trip of mine among your wild people of +the North will give me a good picture of what civilization has gained." + +"What it has lost, you will say a little later," replied Ransom. "See here, +Roscoe--has it ever occurred to you that brotherly love, as you call +it--the real thing--ended when civilization began? Has it ever occurred to +you that somewhere away back in the darkest ages your socialistic Nirvana +may have existed, and that you sociologists might still find traces of it, +if you would? Has the idea ever come to you that there has been a time when +the world has been better than it is to-day, and better than it ever will +be again? Will you, as a student of life, concede that the savage can teach +you a lesson? Will any of your kind? No, for you are self-appointed +civilizers, working according to a certain code." + +Ransom's weather-tanned face had taken on a deeper flush, and there was a +questioning look in Roscoe's eyes, as though he were striving to look +through a veil of clouds to a picture just beyond his vision. + +"If most of us believed as you believe," he said at last, "civilization +would end. We would progress no farther." + +"And this civilization," said Ransom, "can there not be too much of it? Was +it any worse for God's first men to set forth and slay twenty thousand +other men, than it is for civilization's sweat-shops to slay twenty +thousand men, women, and children each year in the making of your cigars +and the things you wear? Civilization means the uplifting of man, doesn't +it, and when it ceases to uplift when it kills, robs, and disrupts in the +name of progress; when the dollar-fight for commercial and industrial +supremacy kills more people in a day than God's first people killed in a +year; when not only people, but nations, are sparring for throat-grips, can +we call it civilization any longer? This talk may all be bally rot, +Roscoe. Ninety-nine out of every hundred people will think that it is. +There are very few these days who stoop to the thought that the human soul +is the greatest of all creations, and that it is the development of the +soul, and not of engines and flying machines and warships, that measures +progress as God meant progress to be. I am saying this because I want you +to be honest when you go up among the savages, as you call them. You may +find up there the last chapter in life, as it was largely intended that +life should be in the beginning of things. And I want you to understand it, +because in your books you possess a power which should be well directed. +When I received your last letter I hunted up the best man I knew as guide +and companion for you--old Rameses, down at the Mission. He is called +Rameses because he looks like the old boy himself. You said you wanted to +learn Cree, and he'll teach it to you. He will teach you a lot of other +things, and when you look at him, especially at night beside the campfire, +you will find something in his face which will recall what I have said, and +make you think of the first people." + +Roscoe, at thirty-two, had not lost his boy's enthusiasm in life, in spite +of the fact that he had studied too deeply, and had seen too much, and had +begun fighting for existence while still in bare feet. From the beginning +it seemed as though some grim monster of fate had hovered about him, making +his path as rough as it could, and striking him down whenever the +opportunity came. His own tremendous energy and ambition had carried him to +the top. + +He worked himself through college, and became a success in his way. But at +no time could he remember real happiness. It had almost come to him, he +thought, a year before--in the form of a girl; but this promise had passed +like the others because, of a sudden, he found that she had shattered the +most precious of all his ideals. So he picked himself up, and, encouraged +by his virile optimism, began looking forward again. Bad luck had so worked +its hand in the moulding of him that he had come to live chiefly in +anticipation, and though this bad luck had played battledore and +shuttlecock with him, the things which he anticipated were pleasant and +beautiful. He believed that the human race was growing better, and that +each year was bringing his ideals just so much nearer to realization. More +than once he had told himself that he was living two or three centuries too +soon. Ransom, his old college chum, had been the first to suggest that he +was living some thousands of years too late. + +He thought of this a great deal during the first pleasant weeks of the +autumn, which he and old Rameses spent up in the Lac la Ronge and Reindeer +Lake country. During this time he devoted himself almost entirely to the +study of Cree under Rameses' tutelage, and the more he learned of it the +more he saw the truth of what Ransom had told him once upon a time, that +the Cree language was the most beautiful in the world. At the upper end of +the Reindeer they spent a week at a Cree village, and one day Roscoe stood +unobserved and listened to the conversation of three young Cree women, who +were weaving reed baskets. They talked so quickly that he could understand +but little of what they said, but their low, soft voices were like music. +He had learned French in Paris, and had heard Italian in Rome, but never in +his life had he heard words or voices so beautiful as those which fell from +the red, full lips of the Cree girls. He thought more seriously than ever +of what Ransom had said about the first people, and the beginning of +things. + +Late in October they swung westward through the Sissipuk and Burntwood +water ways to Nelson House, and at this point Rameses returned homeward. +Roscoe struck north, with two new guides, and on the eighteenth of November +the first of the two great storms which made the year of 1907 one of the +most tragic in the history of the far Northern people overtook them on +Split Lake, thirty miles from a Hudson's Bay post. It was two weeks later +before they reached this post, and here Roscoe was given the first of +several warnings. + +"This has been the worst autumn we've had for years," said the factor to +him. "The Indians haven't caught half enough fish to carry them through, +and this storm has ruined the early-snow hunting in which they usually get +enough meat to last them until spring. We're stinting ourselves on our own +supplies now, and farther north the Company will soon be on famine rations +if the cold doesn't let up--and it won't. They won't want an extra mouth up +there, so you'd better turn back. It's going to be a starvation winter." + +But Roscoe, knowing as little as the rest of man-kind of the terrible +famines of the northern people, which keep an area one-half as large as the +whole of Europe down to a population of thirty thousand, went on. A famine, +he argued, would give him greater opportunity for study. + +Two weeks later he was at York Factory, and from there he continued to Fort +Churchill, farther up on Hudson's Bay. By the time he reached this point, +early in January, the famine of those few terrible weeks during which more +than fifteen hundred people died of starvation had begun. From the Barren +Lands to the edge of the southern watershed the earth lay under from four +to six feet of snow, and from the middle of December until late in February +the temperature did not rise above thirty degrees below zero, and remained +for the most of the time between fifty and sixty. From all points in the +wilderness reports of starvation came to the Company's posts. Traplines +could not be followed because of the intense cold. Moose, caribou, and even +the furred animals had buried themselves under the snow. Indians and +halfbreeds dragged themselves into the posts. Twice Roscoe saw mothers who +brought dead babies in their arms. One day a white trapper came in with +his dogs and sledge, and on the sledge, wrapped in a bear skin, was his +wife, who had died fifty miles back in the forest. + +Late in January there came a sudden rise in the temperature, and Roscoe +prepared to take advantage of the change to strike south and westward +again, toward Nelson House. Dogs could not be had for love or money, so on +the first of February he set out on snowshoes with an Indian guide and two +weeks' supply of provisions. The fifth night, in the wild, Barren country +west of the Etawney, his Indian failed to keep up the fire, and when Roscoe +investigated he found him half dead with a strange sickness. Roscoe thought +of smallpox, the terrible plague that usually follows northern famine, and +a shiver ran through him. He made the Indian's balsam shelter snow and wind +proof, cut wood, and waited. The temperature fell again, and the cold +became intense. Each day the provisions grew less, and at last the time +came when Roscoe knew that he was standing face to face with the Great +Peril. He went farther and farther from camp in his search for game. But +there was no life. Even the brush sparrows and snow hawks were gone. Once +the thought came to him that he might take what food was left, and accept +the little chance that remained of saving himself. But the idea never got +further than a first thought. He kept to his post, and each day spent half +an hour in writing. On the twelfth day the Indian died. It was a terrible +day, the beginning of the second great storm of that winter. There was food +for another twenty-four hours, and Roscoe packed it, together with his +blankets and a little tinware. He wondered if the Indian had died of a +contagious disease. Anyway, he made up his mind to put out the warning for +others if they came that way, and over the dead Indian's balsam shelter he +planted a sapling, and at the end of the sapling he fastened a strip of red +cotton cloth--the plague-signal of the North. + +Then he struck out through the deep snows and the twisting storm, knowing +that there was no more than one chance in a thousand ahead of him, and that +his one chance was to keep the wind at his back. + + * * * * * + +This was the beginning of the wonderful experience which Roscoe Cummins +afterward described in his book "The First People and the Valley of Silent +Men." He prepared another manuscript which for personal reasons was never +published, the story of a dark-eyed girl of the First People--but this is +to come. It has to do with the last tragic weeks of this winter of 1907, in +which it was a toss-up between all things of flesh and blood in the +Northland to see which would win--life or death--and in which a pair of +dark eyes and a voice from the First People turned a sociologist into a +possible Member of Parliament. + + * * * * * + +At the end of his first day's struggle Roscoe built himself a camp in a bit +of scrub timber, which was not much more than brush. If he had been an +older hand he would have observed that this bit of timber, and every tree +and bush that he had passed since noon, was stripped and dead on the side +that faced the north. It was a sign of the Great Barrens, and of the fierce +storms that swept over them, destroying even the life of the trees. He +cooked and ate his last food the following day, and went on. The small +timber turned to scrub, and the scrub, in time, to vast snow wastes over +which the storm swept mercilessly. All this day he looked for game, for a +flutter of bird life; he chewed bark, and in the afternoon got a mouthful +of Fox-bite, which made his throat swell until he could scarcely breathe. +At night he made tea, but had nothing to eat. His hunger was acute and +painful. It was torture the next day--the third--for the process of +starvation is a rapid one in this country where only the fittest survive on +four meals a day. He camped, built a small bush fire at night, and slept. +He almost failed to rouse himself on the morning that followed, and when he +staggered to his feet and felt the cutting sting of the storm still in his +face, and heard the swishing wail of it over the Barren, he knew that at +last the moment had come when he was standing face to face with the +Almighty. + +For some strange reason he was not frightened at the situation. He found +that even over the level spaces he could scarcely drag his snow shoes, but +this had ceased to alarm him as he had been alarmed at first. He went on, +hour after hour, weaker and weaker. Within himself there was still life +which reasoned that if death were to come it could not come in a better +way. It at least promised to be painless--even pleasant. The sharp, +stinging pains of hunger, like little electrical knives piercing him, were +gone; he no longer experienced a sensation of intense cold; he almost felt +that he could lie down in the drifted snow and sleep peacefully. He knew +what it would be--a sleep without end--with the arctic foxes to pick his +bones, and so he resisted the temptation and forced himself onward. The +storm still swept straight west from Hudson's Bay, bringing with it endless +volleys of snow, round and hard as fine shot; snow that had at first seemed +to pierce his flesh, and which swished past his feet, as if trying to trip +him, and tossed itself in windrows and mountains in his path. If he could +only find timber--shelter! That was what he worked for now. When he had +last looked at his watch it was nine o'clock in the morning; now it was +late in the afternoon. It might as well have been night. The storm had long +since half blinded him. He could not see a dozen paces ahead. But the +little life in him still reasoned bravely. It was a heroic spark of life, a +fighting spark, and hard to put out. It told him that when he came to +shelter be would at least _feel_ it, and that he must fight until the last. +And all this time, for ages and ages it seemed to him, he kept mumbling +over and over again Ransom's words: + +_"Go back--Go back--Go back---"_ + +They rang in his brain. He tried to keep step with their monotone. The +storm could not drown them. They were meaningless words to him now, but +they kept him company. Also, his rifle was meaningless, but he clung to it. +The pack on his back held no significance and no weight for him. He might +have travelled a mile or ten miles an hour and he would not have sensed the +difference. Most men would have buried themselves in the snow, and died in +comfort, dreaming the pleasant dreams which come as a sort of recompense to +the unfortunate who die of starvation and cold. But the fighting spark +commanded Roscoe to die upon his feet, if he died at all. It was this spark +which brought him at last to a bit of timber thick enough to give him +shelter from wind and snow. It burned a little more warmly then. It flared +up, and gave him new vision. And, for the first time, he realized that it +must be night. For a light was burning ahead of him, and all else was +gloom. His first thought was that it was a campfire, miles and miles away. +Then it drew nearer--until he knew that it was a light in a cabin window. +He dragged himself toward it, and when he came to the door he tried to +shout. But no sound fell from his swollen lips. It seemed an hour before he +could twist his feet out of his snowshoes. Then he groped for a latch, +pressed against the door, and plunged in. + +What he saw was like a picture suddenly revealed for an instant by a +flashlight. In the cabin there were four men. Two sat at a table, directly +in front of him. One held a dice box poised in the air, and had turned a +rough, bearded face toward him. The other was a younger man, and in this +moment of lapsing consciousness it struck Roscoe as strange that he should +be clutching a can of beans between his hands. A third man stared from +where he had been looking down upon the dice-play of the other two. As +Roscoe came in he was in the act of lowering a half-filled bottle from his +lips. The fourth man sat on the edge of a bunk, with a face so white and +thin that he might have been taken for a corpse if it had not been for a +dark glare in his sunken eyes. Roscoe smelled the odor of whisky; he +smelled food. He saw no sign of welcome in the faces turned toward him, +but he advanced upon them, mumbling incoherently. And then the spark--the +fighting spark in him--gave out, and he crumpled down on the floor. He +heard a voice, which came to him--as if from a great distance, and which +said, "Who the h--l is this?" And then, after what seemed to be a long +time, he heard another voice say, "Pitch him back into the snow." + +After that he lost consciousness. + + * * * * * + +A long time before he awoke he knew that he was not in the snow, and that +hot stuff was running down his throat. When he opened his eyes there was no +longer a light burning in the cabin. It was day. He felt strangely +comfortable, but there was something in the cabin that stirred him from his +rest. It was the odour of frying bacon. He raised himself upon his elbow, +prepared to thank his deliverers, and to eat. All of his hunger had come +back. The joy of life, of anticipation, shone in his thin face as he pulled +himself up. Another face--the bearded face--red-eyed, almost animal-like in +its fierce questioning, bent over him. + +"Where's your grub, pardner?" + +The question was like a stab. Roscoe did not hear his own voice as he +explained. + +"Got none!" The bearded man's voice was like a bellow as he turned upon the +others. + +"He's got no grub!" + +"We'll divvy up, Jack," came a weak voice. It was from the thin, +white-faced man who had sat corpse-like on the edge of his bunk the night +before. + +"Divvy h--l!" growled the bearded man. "It's up to you--you and Scotty. +You're to blame!" + +You're to blame! + +The words struck upon Roscoe's ears with a chill of horror. He recalled the +voice that had suggested throwing him back into the snow. Starvation was in +the cabin. He had fallen among animals instead of men, and his body grew +cold with a chill that was more horrible than that of the snow and the +wind. He saw the thin-faced man who had spoken for him sitting again on the +edge of his bunk. Mutely he looked to the others to see which was Scotty. +He was the young man who had clutched the can of beans. It was he who was +frying bacon over the sheet iron stove. + +"We'll divvy--Henry and I," he said. "I told you that last night." He +looked over at Roscoe. "Glad you're better," he greeted. "You see--you've +struck us at a bad time. We're on our last legs for grub. Our two Indians +went out to hunt a week ago and never came back. They're dead--or gone, and +we're as good as dead if the storm doesn't let up pretty soon. You can have +some of our grub--Henry's and mine." + +It was a cold invitation, lacking warmth or sympathy, and Roscoe felt that +even this man wished that he had died before he reached the cabin. But the +man was human; he at least had not cast his voice with those who had wanted +to throw him back into the snow, and Roscoe tried to voice his gratitude, +and at the same time to hide his hunger. He saw that there were three thin +slices of bacon in the frying pan, and it struck him that it would be bad +taste to reveal a starvation appetite in the face of such famine. He came +up, limping, and stood on the other side of the stove from Scotty. + +"You saved my life," he said, holding out a hand. "Will you shake?" + +Scotty shook hands limply. + +"It's h--l," he said in a low voice. "We'd have had beans this morning if +I hadn't shook dice with him last night." He nodded toward the bearded man, +who was cutting open the top of a can. "He won!" + +"My God!" began Roscoe. + +He didn't finish. Scotty turned the meat, and added: + +"He won a square meal off me yesterday--a quarter of a pound of bacon. Day +before that he won Henry's last can of beans. He's got his share under his +blanket over there, and swears he'll shoot any one who goes to monkeying +with his bed--so you'd better fight shy of it. Thompson--he isn't up +yet--chose the whisky for _his_ share, so you'd better fight shy of him, +too. Henry and I'll divvy up with you." + +"Thanks," said Roscoe, the one word choking him. + +Henry came from his bunk, bent and wobbling. He looked like a dying man, +and for the first time Roscoe saw that his hair was gray. He was a little +man, and his thin hands shook as he held them out over the stove, and +nodded at Roscoe. The bearded man had opened his can, and approached the +stove with a pan of water, coming in beside Roscoe without noticing him. He +brought with him a foul odour of stale tobacco smoke and whisky. After he +had put his water over the fire he turned to one of the bunks and with half +a dozen coarse epithets roused Thompson, who sat up stupidly, still half +drunk. Henry had gone to a small table, and Scotty followed him with the +bacon. But Roscoe did not move. He forgot his hunger. His pulse was beating +quickly. Sensations filled him which he had never known or imagined before. +He had known tragedy; he had investigated to what he had supposed to be the +depths of human vileness--but this that he was experiencing now stunned +him. Was it possible that these were people of his own kind? Had a madness +of some sort driven all human instincts from them? He saw Thompson's red +eyes fastened upon him, and he turned his face to escape their questioning, +stupid leer. The bearded man was turning out the can of beans he had won +from Scotty. Beyond the bearded man the door creaked, and Roscoe heard the +wail of the storm. It came to him now as a friendly sort of sound. + +"Better draw up, pardner," he heard Scotty say. "Here's your share." + +One of the thin slices of bacon and a hard biscuit were waiting for him on +a tin plate. He ate as ravenously as Henry and Scotty, and drank a cup of +hot tea. In two minutes the meal was over. It was terribly inadequate. The +few mouthfuls of food stirred up all his craving, and he found it +impossible to keep his eyes from the bearded man and his beans. The bearded +man, whom Scotty called Croker, was the only one who seemed well fed, and +his horror increased when Henry bent over and said to him in a low whisper: +"He didn't get my beans fair. I had three aces and a pair of deuces, an' he +took it on three fives and two sixes. When I objected he called me a liar +an' hit me. Them's my beans, or Scotty's!" There was something almost like +murder in the little man's red eyes. + +Roscoe remained silent. He did not care to talk, or question. No one had +asked him who he was or whence he came, and he felt no inclination to know +more of the men he had fallen among. Croker finished, wiped his mouth with +his hand, and looked across at Roscoe. + +"How about going out with me to get some wood?" he demanded. + +"I'm ready," replied Roscoe. + +For the first time he took notice of himself. He was lame, and sickeningly +weak, but apparently sound in other ways. The intense cold had not frozen +his ears or feet. He put on his heavy moccasins, his thick coat and fur +cap, and Croker pointed to his rifle. + +"Better take that along," he said. "Can't tell what you might see." + +Roscoe picked it up and the pack which lay beside it. He did not catch the +ugly leer which the bearded man turned upon Thompson. But Henry did, and +his little eyes grew smaller and blacker. On snowshoes the two men went out +into the storm, Croker carrying an axe. He led the way through the bit of +thin timber, and across a wide open over which the storm swept so fiercely +that their trail was covered behind them as they travelled. Roscoe figured +that they had gone a quarter of a mile when they came to another clump of +trees, and Croker gave him the axe. + +"You can cut down some of this," he said. "It's better burning than that +back there. I'm going on for a dry log that I know of. You wait until I +come back." + +Roscoe set to work upon a spruce, but he could scarcely strike out a chip. +After a little he was compelled to drop his axe, and lean against the tree, +exhausted. At intervals he resumed his cutting. It was half an hour before +the small tree fell. Then he waited for Croker. Behind him his trail was +already obliterated. After a little he raised his voice and called for +Croker. There was no reply. The wind moaned above him in the spruce tops. +It made a noise like the wash of the sea out on the open Barren. He shouted +again. And again. The truth dawned upon him slowly--but it came. Croker had +brought him out purposely--to lose him. He was saving the bacon and the +cold biscuits back in the cabin. Roscoe's hands clenched tightly, and then +they relaxed. At last he had found what he was after--his book! It would be +a terrible book, if he carried out the idea that flashed upon him now in +the wailing and twisting of the storm. And then he laughed, for it occurred +to him quickly that the idea would die--with himself. He might find the +cabin, but he would not make the effort. Once more he would fight alone and +for himself. The Spark returned to him, loyally. He buttoned himself up +closely, saw that his snowshoes were securely fastened, and struck out once +more with his back to the storm. He was at least a trifle better off for +meeting with the flesh and blood of his kind. + +The clump of timber thinned out, and Roscoe struck out boldly into the low +bush. As he went, he wondered what would happen in the cabin. He believed +that Henry, of the four, would not pull through alive, and that Croker +would come out best. It was not until the following summer that he learned +the facts of Henry's madness, and of the terrible manner in which he +avenged himself on Croker by sticking a knife under the latter's ribs. + +For the first time in his life Roscoe found himself in a position to +measure accurately the amount of energy contained in a slice of bacon and a +cold biscuit. It was not much. Long before noon his old weakness was upon +him again. He found even greater difficulty in dragging his feet over the +snow, and it seemed now as though all ambition had left him, and that even +the fighting spark was becoming disheartened. He made up his mind to go on +until the arctic gloom of night began mingling with the storm; then he +would stop, build a fire, and go to sleep in its warmth. He would never +wake up, and there would be no sensation of discomfort in his dying. + +During the afternoon he passed out of the scrub into a rougher country. His +progress was slower, but more comfortable, for at times he found himself +protected from the wind. A gloom darker and more sombre than that of the +storm was falling about him when he came to what appeared to be the end of +the Barren. The earth dropped away from under his feet, and far below him, +in a ravine shut out from wind and storm, he saw the black tops of thick +spruce. What life was left in him leaped joyously, and he began to scramble +downward. His eyes were no longer fit to judge distance or chance, and he +slipped. He slipped a dozen times in the first five minutes, and then there +came the time when he did not make a recovery, but plunged down the side of +the mountain like a rock. He stopped with a terrific jar, and for the first +time during the fall he wanted to cry out with pain. But the voice that he +heard did not come from his own lips. It was another voice--and then two, +three, many of them. His dazed eyes caught glimpses of dark objects +floundering in the deep snow about him, and just beyond these objects were +four or five tall mounds of snow, like tents, arranged in a circle. A +number of times that winter Roscoe had seen mounds of snow like these, and +he knew what they meant. He had fallen into an Indian village. He tried to +call out the words of greeting that Rameses had taught him, but he had no +tongue. Then the floundering figures caught him up, and he was carried to +the circle of snow-mounds. The last that he knew was that warmth was +entering his lungs, and that once again there came to him the low, sweet +music of a Cree girl's voice. + +It was a face that he first saw after that, a face that seemed to come to +him slowly from out of night, approaching nearer and nearer until he knew +that it was a girl's face, with great, dark, shining eyes whose lustre +suffused him with warmth and a strange happiness. It was a face of +wonderful beauty, he thought--of a wild sort of beauty, yet with something +so gentle in the shining eyes that he sighed restfully. In these first +moments of his returning consciousness the whimsical thought came to him +that he was dying, and the face was a part of a pleasant dream. If that +were not so he had fallen at last among friends. His eyes opened wider, he +moved, and the face drew back. Movement stimulated returning life, and +reason rehabilitated itself in great bounds. In a dozen flashes he went +over all that had happened up to the point where he had fallen down the +mountain and into the Cree camp. Straight above him he saw a funnel-like +peak through which there drifted a blue film of smoke. He was in a wigwam. +It was warm and exceedingly comfortable. Wondering if he was hurt, he +moved. The movement drew a sharp exclamation of pain from him. It was the +first real sound he had made, and in an instant the face was over him +again. He saw it plainly this time, with its dark eyes and oval cheeks +framed between two great braids of black hair. A hand touched his brow cool +and gentle, and a sweet voice soothed him in half a dozen musical words. +The girl was a Cree. + +At the sound of her voice an Indian woman came up beside her, looked down +at Roscoe for a moment, and then went to the door of the wigwam, speaking +in a low voice to some one who was outside. When she returned a man +followed in after her. He was old and bent, and his face was thin. His +cheek-bones shone, so tightly was the skin drawn over them. And behind him +came a younger man, as straight as a tree, with strong shoulders, and a +head set like a piece of bronze sculpture. Roscoe thought of Ransom and of +his words about old Rameses: + +"You will find something in his face which will recall what I have said, +and make you think of the First People." + +The second man carried in his hand a frozen fish, which he gave to the +woman. And as he gave it to her he spoke words in Cree which Roscoe +understood. + +"It is the last fish." + +For a moment some terrible hand gripped at Roscoe's heart and stopped its +beating. He saw the woman take the fish and cut it into two equal parts +with a knife, and one of these parts he saw her drop into a pot of boiling +water which hung over the stone fireplace built under the vent in the wall. +The girl went up and stood beside the older woman, with her back turned to +him. He opened his eyes wide, and stared. The girl was tall and slender, as +lithely and as beautifully formed as one of the northern lilies that thrust +their slender stems from between the mountain rocks. Her two heavy braids +fell down her back almost to her knees. And this girl, the woman, the two +men _were dividing with him their last fish_! + +He made an effort and sat up. The younger man came to him, and put a bear +skin at his back. He had picked up some of the patois of half-blood French +and English. + +"You seek," he said, "you hurt--you hungr'. You have eat soon." + +He motioned with his hand to the boiling pot. There was not a ficker of +animation in his splendid face. There was something godlike in his +immobility, something that was awesome in the way he moved and breathed. +His voice, too, it seemed to Roscoe, was filled with the old, old mystery +of the beginning of things, of history that was long dead and lost for all +time. And it came upon Roscoe now, like a flood of rare knowledge +descending from a mysterious source, that he had at last discovered the key +to new life, and that through the blindness of reason, through starvation +and death, fate had led him to the Great Truth that was dying with the last +sons of the First People. For the half of the last fish was brought to +him, and he ate; and when the knowledge that he was eating life away from +these people choked him, and he thrust a part of it back, the girl herself +urged him to continue, and he finished, with her dark, glorious eyes fixed +upon him and sending warm floods through his veins. And after that the men +bolstered him up with the bear skin, and the two went out again into the +storm. The woman sat hunched before the fire, and after a little the girl +joined her and piled fresh fagots on the blaze. Then she sat beside her, +with her chin resting in the little brown palms of her hands, the fire +lighting up a half profile of her face and painting rich colour in her +deep-black hair. + +For a long time there was silence, and Roscoe lay as if he were asleep. It +was not an ordinary silence, the silence of a still room, or of +emptiness--but a silence that throbbed and palpitated with an unheard life, +a silence which was thrilling because it spoke a language which Roscoe was +just beginning to understand. The fire grew redder, and the cone-shaped +vacancy at the top of the tepee grew duskier, so Roscoe knew that night was +falling outside. Far above he could hear the storm wailing over the top of +the mountain. Redder and redder grew the birch flame that lighted up the +profile of the girl's face. Once she turned, so that he caught the lustrous +darkness of her eyes upon him. He could not hear the breath of the two in +front of the fire. He heard no sound outside except that of the wind and +the trees, and all grew as dark as it was silent in the snow-covered tepee, +except in front of the fire. And then, as he lay with wide-open eyes, it +seemed to Roscoe as though the stillness was broken by a sob that was +scarcely more than a sigh, and he saw the girl's head droop a little lower +in her hands, and fancied that a shuddering tremor ran through her slender +shoulders. The fire burned low, and she reached out for more fagots. Then +she rose slowly, and turned toward him. She could not see his face in the +gloom, but the deep breathing which he feigned drew her to him, and through +his half-closed eyes he could see her face bending over him, until one of +her heavy braids slipped over her shoulder and fell upon his breast. After +a moment she sat down silently beside him, and he felt her fingers brush +gently through his tangled hair. Something in their light, soft touch +thrilled him, and he moved his hand in the darkness until it came in +contact with the big, soft braid that still lay where it had fallen across +him. He was on the point of speaking, but the fingers left his hair and +stroked as gentle as velvet over his storm-beaten face. She believed that +he was asleep, and a warm flood of shame swept through him at the thought +of his hypocrisy. The birch flared up suddenly, and he saw the glisten of +her hair, the glow of her eyes, and the startled change that came into them +when she saw that his own eyes were wide open, and looking up at her. +Before she could move he had caught her hand, and was holding it tighter to +his face--against his lips. The birch bark died as suddenly as it had +flared up; he heard her breathing quickly, he saw her great eyes melt away +like lustrous stars into the returning gloom, and a wild, irresistible +impulse moved him. He raised his free hand to the dark head, and drew it +down to him, holding it against his feverish face while he whispered +Rameses's prayer of thankfulness in Cree: + +"The spirits bless you forever, _Meeani_." + +The nearness of her, the touch of her heavy hair, the caress of her breath +stirred him still more deeply with the strange, new emotion that was born +in him, and in the darkness he found and kissed a pair of lips, soft and +warm. + +The woman stirred before the fire. The girl drew back, her breath coming +almost sobbingly. And then the thought of what he had done rushed in a +flood of horror upon Roscoe. These wild people had saved his life; they had +given him to eat of their last fish; they were nursing him back from the +very threshold of death--and he had already repaid them by offering to the +Cree maiden next to the greatest insult that could come to her people. He +remembered what Rameses had told him--that the Cree girl's first kiss was +her betrothal kiss; that it was the white garment of her purity, the pledge +of her fealty forever. He lifted himself upon his elbow, but the girl had +run to the door. Voices came from outside, and the two men reëntered the +tepee. He understood enough of what was said to learn that the camp had +been holding council, and that two men were about to make an effort to +reach the nearest post. Each tepee was to furnish these two men a bit of +food to keep them alive on their terrible hazard, and the woman brought +forth the half of a fish. She cut it into quarters, and with one of the +pieces the elder man went out again into the night. The younger man spoke +to the girl. He called her Oachi, and to Roscoe's astonishment spoke in +French. + +"If they do not come back, or if we do not find meat in seven days," he +said, "we will die." + +Roscoe made an effort to rise, and the effort sent a rush of fire into his +head. He turned dizzy, and fell back with a groan. In an instant the girl +was at his side--ahead of the man. Her hands were at his face, her eyes +glowing again. He felt that he was falling into a deep sleep. But the eyes +did not leave him. They were wonderful eyes, glorious eyes! He dreamed of +them in the strange sleep that came to him, and they grew more and more +beautiful, shining with a light which thrilled him even in his +unconsciousness. After a time there came a black, more natural sort of +night to him. He awoke from it refreshed. It was day. The tepee was filled +with light, and for the first time he looked about him. He was alone. A +fire burned low among the stones; over it simmered a pot. The earth floor +of the tepee was covered with deer and caribou skins, and opposite him +there was another bunk. He drew himself painfully to a sitting posture and +found that it was his shoulder and hip that hurt him. He rose to his feet, +and stood balancing himself feebly when the door to the tepee was drawn +back and Oachi entered. At sight of him, standing up from his bed, she made +a quick movement to draw back, but Roscoe reached out his hands with a low +cry of pleasure. + +"Oachi," he cried softly. "Come in!" He spoke in French, and Oachi's face +lighted up like sunlight. "I am better," he said. "I am well. I want to +thank you--and the others." He made a step toward her, and the strength of +his left leg gave way. He would have fallen if she had not darted to him so +quickly that she made a prop for him, and her eyes looked up into his +whitened face, big and frightened and filled with pain. + +"Oo-ee-ee," she said in Cree, her red lips rounded as she saw him flinch, +and that one word, a song in a word; came to him like a flute note. + +"It hurts--a little," he said. He dropped back on his bunk, and Oachi sank +upon the skins at his feet, looking up at him steadily with her wonderful, +pure eyes, her mouth still rounded, little wrinkles of tense anxiety drawn +in her forehead. Roscoe laughed. + +For a few moments his soul was filled with a strange gladness. He reached +out his hand and stroked it over her shining hair, and a radiance such as +he had never seen leapt into her eyes. "You--talk--French?" he asked +slowly. + +She nodded. + +"Then tell me this--you are hungry--starving?" + +She nodded again, and made a cup of her two small hands. "No meat. This +little--so much--flour--" Her throat trembled and her voice fluttered. But +even as she measured out their starvation her face was looking at him +joyously. And then she added, with the gladness of a child, "_Feesh_, for +you," and pointed to the simmering pot. + +"For _ME_!" Roscoe looked at the pot, and then back at her. + +"Oachi," he said gently, "go tell your father that I am ready to talk with +him. Ask him to come--now." + +She looked at him for a moment as though she did not quite understand what +he had said, and he repeated the words. Even as he was speaking he +marvelled at the fairness of her skin, which shone with a pink flush, and +at the softness and beauty of her hair. What he saw impelled him to ask, +as she made to rise: + +"Your father--your mother--is French. Is that so, Oachi?" The girl nodded +again, with the soft little Cree throat note that meant yes. Then she +slipped to her feet and ran out, and a little later there came into the +tepee the man who had first loomed up in the dusky light like a god of the +First People to Roscoe Cummins. His splendid face was a little more gaunt +than the night before, and Roscoe knew that famine came hand in hand with +him. He had seen starvation before, and he knew that it reddened the eyes +and gave the lips a grayish pallor. These things, and more, he saw in +Oachi's father. But Mukoki came in straight and erect, hiding his weakness +under the pride of his race. Fighting down his pain Roscoe rose at sight of +him and held out his hands. + +"I want to thank you," he said, repeating the words he had spoken to Oachi. +"You have saved my life. But I have eyes, and I can see. You gave me of +your last fish. You have no meat. You have no flour. You are starving. +What? I have asked you to come and tell me, so that I may know how it +fares with your women and children. You will give me a council, and we will +smoke." Roscoe dropped back on his bunk. He drew forth his pipe and filled +it with tobacco. The Cree sat down mutely in the centre of the tepee. They +smoked, passing the pipe back and forth without speaking. Once Roscoe +loaded the pipe, and once the chief; and when the last puff of the last +pipeful was taken the Indian reached over his hand, and Roscoe gripped it +hard. + +And then, while the storm still moaned far up over their heads, Roscoe +Cummins listened to the old, old story of the First People--the story of +starvation and of death. To him it was epic. It was terrible. But to the +other it was the mere coming and going of a natural thing, of a thing that +had existed for him and for his kind since life began, and he spoke of it +quietly and without a gesture. There had been a camp of twenty-two, and +there were now fifteen. Seven had died, four men, two women, and one child. +Each day during the great storm the men had gone out on their futile search +for game, and every few days one of them had failed to return. Thus four +had died. The dogs were eaten. Corn and fish were gone; there remained but +a little flour, and this was for the women and the children. The men had +eaten nothing but bark and roots for five days. And there seemed to be no +hope. It was death to stray far from the camp. That morning the two men had +set out for the post, but Mukoki said calmly that they would never return. +And then Roscoe spoke of Oachi, his daughter, and for the first time the +iron lines of the chief's bronze face seemed to soften, and his head bent +over a little, and his shoulders drooped. Not until then did Roscoe learn +the depths of sorrow hidden behind the splendid strength of the starving +man. Oachi's mother had been a French woman. Six months before she had died +in this tepee, and Mukoki had buried his wife up on the face of the +mountain, where the storm was moaning. After this Roscoe could not speak. +He was choking. He loaded his pipe again, and sat down close to the chief, +so that their knees and their shoulders touched, and thus, as taught him by +old Rameses, he smoked with Oachi's father the pledge of eternal +friendship, of brotherhood in life, of spirit communion in the Valley of +Silent Men. After that Mukoki left him and he crawled back upon his bunk, +weak and filled with pain, knowing that he was facing death with the +others. He was not afraid, but was filled with a great thankfulness that, +even at the price of starvation, fate had allowed him to touch at last the +edge of the fabric of his dreams. All of that day he wrote, in the hours +when he felt best. He filled page after page of the tablets which he +carried in his pack, writing feverishly and with great haste, oppressed +only by the fear that he would not be able to finish the message which he +had for the people of that other world a thousand miles away. Three times +during the morning Oachi came in and brought him the cooked fish and a +biscuit which she had made for him out of flour and meal. And each time he +said, "I am a man with the other men, Oachi. I would be a woman if I ate." + +The third time Oachi knelt close down at his side, and when he refused the +food again there came a strange light into her eyes, and she said, "If you +starve--I starve!" + +It was the first revelation to him. He put up his hands. They touched her +face. Some potent spirit in him carried him across all gulfs. In that +moment, thrilling, strange, he was heart and soul of the First People. In +an instant he had drifted back a thousand years, beyond the memory of +cities, of clubs, of all that went with civilization. A wild, half savage +longing filled him. One of his hands slipped to her shining hair, and +suddenly their faces lay close to each other, and he knew that in that +moment love had come to him from the fount of glory itself. + + * * * * * + +Days followed--black days filled with the endless terrors of the storm. And +yet they were days of a strange contentment which Roscoe had never felt +before. Oachi and her father were with him a great deal in the tepee which +they had given up to him. On the third day Roscoe noticed that Oachi's +little hands were bruised and red and he found that the chief's daughter +had gone out to dig down through ice and snow with the other women after +roots. The camp lived entirely on roots now--wild flag and moose roots +ground up and cooked in a batter. On this same day, late in the afternoon, +there came a low wailing grief from one of the tepees, a moaning sound that +pitched itself to the key of the storm until it seemed to be a part of it. +A child had died, and the mother was mourning. That night another of the +camp huntsmen failed to return at dusk. + +The next day Roscoe was able to move about in his tepee without pain. Oachi +and her father were with him when, for the first time, he got out his comb +and military brushes and began grooming his touselled hair. Oachi watched +him, and suddenly, seeing the wondering pleasure in her eyes, he held out +the brushes to her. "You may have them, Oachi," he said, and the girl +accepted them with a soft little cry of delight. To his amazement she began +unbraiding her hair immediately, and then she stood up before him, hidden +to her knees in her wonderful wealth of shining tresses, and Roscoe Cummins +thought in this moment that he had never seen a woman more beautiful than +the half Cree girl. When they had gone he still saw her, and the vision +troubled him. They came in again at night, when the fire was sending red +and yellow lights up and down the tepee walls, and the more he watched +Oachi the stronger there grew within him something that seemed to gnaw and +gripe with a dull sort of pain. Oachi was beautiful. He had never seen hair +like her hair. He had never before seen eyes more beautiful. He had never +heard a voice so low and sweet and filled with bird-like ripples of music. +She was beautiful, and yet with her beauty there was a primitiveness, a +gentle savagery, and an age-old story written in the fine lines of her face +which made him uneasy with the thought of a thing that was almost tragedy. +Oachi loved him. He could see that love in her eyes, in her movement; he +could feel it in her presence, and the sweet song of it trembled in her +voice when she spoke to him. Ordinarily a white man would have accepted +this love; he would have rejoiced in it, and would have played with it for +a time, as they have done with the loves of the women of Oachi's people +since the beginning of white man's time. But Roscoe Cummins was of a +different type. He was a man of ideals, and in Oachi's love he saw his +ideal of love set apart from him by illimitable voids. This night, in the +firelit tepee, there came to him like a painful stab the truth of Ransom's +words. He had been born some thousands of years too late. He saw in Oachi +love and life as they might have been for him; but beyond them he also saw, +like a grim and threatening hand, a vision of cities, of toiling millions, +of a great work just begun--a vision of life as it was intended that he +should live it; and to shut it out from him he bowed his head in his two +hands, overwhelmed by a new grief. + +The chief sat with his face to the fire, smoking silently, and Oachi came +to Roscoe's side, and touched hands timidly, like a little child. She +seemed to him wondrously like a child when he lifted his head and looked +down into her face. She smiled at him, questioning him, and he smiled his +answer back, yet neither broke the silence with words. He heard only the +soft little note in Oachi's throat that filled him with such an exquisite +sensation, and he wondered what music would be if it could find expression +through a voice like hers. + +"Oachi," he asked softly, "why did you never sing?" + +The girl looked at him in silence for a moment. + +"We starve," she said. She swept her hand toward the door of the tepee. "We +starve--die--there is no song." + +He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to him, as he might have +done with a little child. + +"I wish you would sing, Oachi," he said. + +For a moment the girl's dark eyes glowed up at him. Then she drew back +softly, and seated herself before the fire, with her back turned toward +him, close beside her father. A strange quiet filled the tepee. Over their +heads the wailing storm seemed to die for a moment; and then something rose +in its place, so low and gentle at first that it seemed like a whisper, but +growing in sweetness and volume until Roscoe Cummins sat erect, his eyes +flashing, his hands clenched, looking at Oachi. The storm rose, and with it +the song--a song that reached down into his soul, stirring him now with its +gladness, now with a half savage pain; but always with a sweetness that +engulfed for him all other things, until he was listening only to the +voice. And then silence came again within the tepee. Over the mountain the +wind burst more fiercely. The chief sat motionless. In Oachi's hair the +firelight glistened with a dull radiance. There was quiet, and yet Roscoe +still heard the voice. He knew that he would always hear it, that it would +never die. + +Not until long afterward did he know that Oachi had sung to him the great +love song of the Crees. + +That night and the next day, and the terrible night and day that followed, +Roscoe fought with himself. He won--when alone--and lost when Oachi was +with him. In some ways she knew intuitively that he loved to see her with +her splendid hair down, and she would sit at his feet and brush it, while +he tried to hide his admiration and smother the passion which sprang up in +his breast when she was near. He knew, in these moments, that it was too +late to kill the thing that was born in him--the craving of his heart and +his soul for this girl of the First People who had laid her life at his +feet and who was removed from him by barriers which he could never pass. On +the afternoon of his seventh day in camp an Indian hunter ran in from the +forest nearly crazed with joy. He had ventured farther away than the +others, and had found a moose-yard. He had killed two of the animals. The +days of famine were over. Oachi brought the first news to Roscoe. Her face +was radiant with joy, her eyes burned like stars, and in her excitement she +stretched out her arms to him as she cried out the wonderful news. Roscoe +took her two hands. + +"Is it true, Oachi?" he asked. "They have surely killed meat?" + +"Yes--yes--yes," she cried. "They have killed meat--much meat--" + +She stopped at the strange, hard look in Roscoe's eyes. He was looking +overhead. If he had looked down, into the glory and love of her eyes, he +would have swept her close in his arms, and the last fight would have been +over then and there. Oachi went out, wondering at the coldness with which +he had received the word of their deliverance, and little guessing that in +that moment he had fought the greatest battle of his life. Each day after +this called him back to the fight. His two broken ribs healed slowly. The +storm passed. The sun followed it, and the March winds began bringing up +warmth from the south. Days grew into weeks, and the snow was growing soft +underfoot before he dared venture forth short distances from the camp +alone. He tried often to make Oachi understand, but he always stopped short +of what he meant to say; his hand would steal to her beautiful hair, and in +Oachi's throat would sound the inimitable little note of happiness. Each +day he was more and more handicapped. For in the joy of her great love +Oachi became more beautiful and her voice still sweeter. By the time the +snows began running down from the mountains and the poplar buds began to +swell she was telling him the most sacred of all sacred things, and one day +she told him of the wonderful world far to the west, painted by the glow of +the setting sun, wherein lay the Valley of Silent Men. + +"And that is Heaven--your Heaven," breathed Roscoe. He was almost well now, +but he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, and Oachi knelt in the old +place upon the deer skin at his feet. As he spoke he stroked her hair. + +"Tell me," he said, "what sort of a place it is, Oachi." + +"It is beautiful," spoke Oachi softly. + +"Long, long ago the Great God came down among us and lived for a time; and +He came at a time like that which has just passed, and He saw suffering, +and hunger, and death. And when He saw what life was He made for us another +world, and told us that it should be called the Valley of Silent Men; and +that when we died we would go to this place, and that at last--when all of +our race were gone--He would cause the earth to roll three times, and in +the Valley of Silent Men all would awaken into life which would never know +death, or sorrow, or pain again. And He says that those who love will +awaken there--hand in hand." + +"It is beautiful," said Roscoe. He felt himself trembling. Oachi's breath +was against his hand. It was his last fight. He half reached out, as if to +clasp her to him; but beyond her he still saw the other thing--the other +world. He rose to his feet, not daring to look at her now. He loved her too +much to sacrifice her. And it would be a sacrifice. He tried to speak +firmly. + +"Oachi," he said, "I am nearly well enough to travel now. I have spent +pleasant weeks with you, weeks which I shall never forget. But it is time +for me to go back to my people. They are expecting me. They are waiting for +me, and wondering at my absence. I am as you would be if you were down +there in a great city. So I must go. I must go to-morrow, or the next day, +or soon after. Oachi--" + +He still looked where he could not see her face. But he heard her move. He +knew that slowly she was drawing away. + +"Oachi--" + +She was near the door now, and his eyes turned toward her. She was looking +back, her slender shoulders bent over, her glorious hair rippling to her +knees, as she had left it undone for him. In her eyes was love such as +falls from the heavens. But her face was as white as a mask. + +"Oachi!" + +With a cry Roscoe reached out his arms. But Oachi was gone. At last the +Cree girl understood. + + * * * * * + +Three days later there came in the passing of a single day and night the +splendour of northern spring. The sun rose warm and golden. From the sides +of the mountains and in the valleys water poured forth in rippling, singing +floods. There bakneesh glowed on bared rocks. Moose-birds, and jays, and +wood-thrushes flitted about the camp, and the air was filled with the +fragrant smells of new life bursting from earth, and tree, and shrub. On +this morning of the third day Roscoe strode forth from his tepee, with his +pack upon his back. An Indian guide waited for him outside. He had smoked +his last pipe with the chief, and now he went from tepee to tepee, in the +fashion of the Crees, and drew a single puff from the pipe of each master, +until there was but one tepee left, and in that was Oachi. With a white +face he rubbed his hand over the deer-flap, and waited. Slowly it was drawn +back, and Oachi came out. He had not seen her since the night he had driven +her from him, and he had planned to say things in this last moment which he +might have said then. But words stumbled on his lips. Oachi was changed. +She seemed taller. Her beautiful eyes looked at him clearly and proudly. +For the first time she was to him Oachi, the "Sun Child," a princess of the +First People--the daughter of a Cree chief. He held out his hand, and the +hand which Oachi gave to him was cold and lifeless. She smiled when he told +her that he had come to say good-bye, and when she spoke to him her voice +was as clear as the stream singing through the cañon. His own voice +trembled. In spite of his mightiest effort a tightening fist seemed choking +him. + +"I am coming back--some day," he managed. + +Oachi smiled, with the glory of the morning sun in her eyes and hair. She +turned, still smiling, and pointed far to the west. + +"And some day--the Valley of Silent Men will awaken," she said, and +reëntered her father's tepee. + +Out of the camp staggered Roscoe Cummins behind his Indian guide, a +blinding heat in his eyes. Once or twice a gulping sob rose in his throat, +and he clutched hard at his heart to beat himself into submission to the +great law of life as it had been made for him. + +An hour later the two came to a stream where there was a canoe. Because of +rapids and the fierceness of the spring floods, portages were many, and +progress slow during the whole of that day. They had made twenty miles when +the sun began sinking in the west, and they struck camp. After their supper +of meat the Cree rolled himself in his blanket and slept. But for long +hours Roscoe sat beside their fire. Night dropped about him, a splendid +night filled with sweet breaths and stars and a new moon, and with strange +sounds which came to him now in a language which he was beginning to +understand. From far away there floated faintly to his ears the lonely cry +of a wolf, and it no longer made him shudder, but filled him with the +mysterious longing of the cry itself. It was the mate-song of the beast of +prey, sending up its message to the stars--crying out to all the +wilderness for a response to its loneliness. Night birds twittered about +him. A loon laughed in its mocking joy. An owl hooted down at him from the +black top of a tall spruce. From out of starvation and death the wilderness +had awakened. Its sounds spoke to him still of grief, of the suffering that +would never know end; and yet there trembled in them a note of happiness +and of content. Beside the campfire it came to him that in this world he +had discovered two things--a suffering that he had never known, and a peace +he had never known. And Oachi stood for them both. He thought of her until +drowsiness drew a pale film over his eyes. The birch crackled more and more +faintly in the fire and sounds died away. The stillness of sleep fell about +him. Scarce had he fallen into slumber than his eyes seemed to open wide +and wakeful, and out of the gloom beyond the smouldering fire he saw a +human form slowly revealing itself, until there stood clearly within his +vision a figure which he at first took to be that of Mukoki, the chief. But +in another moment he saw that it was even taller than the tall chief, and +that its eyes had searched him out. When he heard a voice, speaking in Cree +the words which mean, "Whither goest thou?" he was startled to hear his +own voice reply: "I am going back to my people." + +He stared into vacancy, for at the sound of his voice the vision faded +away; but there came a voice to him back through the night, which said: +"And it is here that you have found that of which you have dreamed--Life, +and the Valley of Silent Men!" + +Roscoe was wide awake now. The voice and the vision had seemed so real to +him that he looked about him tremblingly into the starlit gloom of the +forest, as if not quite sure that he had been dreaming. Then he crawled +into his balsam shelter, drew his blankets about him, and fell asleep. + +The next day he had little to say to his Indian companion as they made +their way downstream. At each dip of their paddles a deeper sickness seemed +to enter into his heart. Life, after all, he tried to reason, was like a +tailored garment. One might have an ideal, and if that ideal became a +realization it would be found a misfit for one reason or another. So he +told himself, in spite of fill the dreams which had urged him on in the +fight for better things. There flooded upon him now the forceful truth of +what Ransom had said. His work, as he had begun it, was at an end, his +fabric of idealism had fallen into ruins. For he had found all that was +ideal--love, faith, purity, and beauty--and he, Roscoe Cummins, the +idealist, had repulsed them because they were not dressed in the tailored +fashion of his kind. He told himself the truth with brutal directness. +Before him he saw another work in his books, but of a different kind; and +each hour that passed added to the conviction within him that at last that +work would prove a failure. He went off alone into the forest when they +camped, early in the afternoon, and thought of Oachi, who would mourn him +until the end of time. And he--could he forget? What if he had yielded to +temptation, and had taken Oachi with him? She would have come. He knew +that. She would have sacrificed herself to him forever, would have gone +with him into a life which she could not understand, and would never +understand, satisfied to live in his love alone. The old, choking hand +gripped at his heart, and yet with the pain of it there was still a +rejoicing that he had not surrendered to the temptation, that he had been +strong enough to save her. + +The last light of the setting sun cast film-like webs of yellow and gold +through the forest as he turned in the direction of camp. It was that hour +in which a wonderful quiet falls upon the wilderness, the last minutes +between night and day, when all wild life seems to shrink in suspensive +waiting for the change. Seven months had taught Roscoe a quiet of his own. +His moccasined feet made no sound. His head was bent, his shoulders had a +tired droop, and his eyes searched for nothing in the mystery about him. +His heart seemed weighted under a pressure that had taken all life from +him, and close above him, in a balsam bough, a night bird twittered. In +response to it a low cry burst from his lips, a cry of loneliness and of +grief. In that moment he saw Oachi again at his feet; he heard the low, +sweet note of love in her throat, so much like that of the bird over his +head; he saw the soft lustre of her hair, the glory of her eyes, looking up +at him from the half gloom of the tepee, telling him that they had found +their god. It was all so near, so real for a moment, that he sprang erect, +his fingers clutching handfuls of moss. He looked toward the camp, and he +saw something move between the rock and the fire. + +It was a wolf, he thought, or perhaps a lynx, and drawing his revolver he +moved quickly and silently in its direction. The object had disappeared +behind a little clump of balsam shrub within fifty paces of the camp, and +as he drew nearer, until he was no more than ten paces away, he wondered +why it did not break cover. + +There were no trees, and it was quite light where the balsam grew. He +approached, step by step. And then, suddenly, from almost under his hands, +something darted away with a strange, human cry, turning upon him for a +single instant a face that was as white as the white stars of early +night--a face with great, glowing, half-mad eyes. It was Oachi. His pistol +dropped to the ground. His heart stopped beating. No cry, no breath of +sound, came from his paralyzed lips. And like a wild thing Oachi was +fleeing from him into the darkening depths of the forest. Life leaped into +his limbs, and he raced like mad after her, overtaking her with a panting, +joyous cry. When she saw that she was caught the girl turned. Her hair had +fallen, and swept about her shoulders and her body. She tried to speak, but +only bursting sobs came from her breast. As she shrank from him, Roscoe +saw that her clothing was in shreds, and that her thin moccasins were +almost torn from her little feet. The truth held him for another moment +stunned and speechless. Like a lightning flash there recurred to him her +last words: "And some day--the Valley of Silent Men will awaken." He +understood--now. She had followed him, fighting her way through swamp and +forest along the river, hiding from him, and yet keeping him company so +long as her little broken heart could urge her on. And then alone, with a +last prayer for him--_she had planned to kill herself_. He trembled. +Something wonderful happened with him, flooding his soul with day--with a +joy that descended upon him as the Hand of the Messiah must have fallen +upon the heads of the children of Samaria. With a great, glad cry he sprang +toward Oachi and caught her in his arms, crushing her face to him, kissing +her hair and her eyes and her mouth until at last with a strange, soft cry +she put her arms up about his neck and sobbed like a little child upon his +breast. + +Back in the camp the Indian waited. The white stars grew red. In the forest +the shadows deepened to the chaos of night. Once more there was sound, the +pulse and beat of a life that moves in darkness. In the camp the Indian +grew restless with the thought that Roscoe had wandered away until he was +lost. So at last he fired his rifle. + +Oachi started in Roscoe's arms. + +"You should go back--alone," she whispered. The old, fluttering love-note +was in her voice, sweeter than the sweetest music to Roscoe Cummins. He +turned her face up, and held it between his two hands. + +"If I go there," he said, pointing for a moment into the south, "I go +_alone_. But if I go there--" and he pointed into the north--"I go +_with you_. Oachi, my beloved, I am going with you." He drew her close +again, and asked, almost in a whisper: "And when we awaken in the Valley of +Silent Men, how shall it be, my Oachi?" + +And with the sweet love-note, Oachi said in Cree: + +"Hand in hand, my master." + +Hand in hand they returned to the waiting Indian and the fire. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRIZZLY KING*** + + +******* This file should be named 10977-8.txt or 10977-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/7/10977 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hoffman</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Grizzly King</p> +<p>Author: James Oliver Curwood</p> +<p>Release Date: February 7, 2004 [eBook #10977]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: iso-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRIZZLY KING***</p> +<br> +<br> +<center><b>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell,<br> + Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, Andrea Ball,<br> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</b></center> +<br> +<br> +<hr class="full"> +<p> </p> +<a name="image-1"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="frontisA.jpg" width="320" height="495" +alt="'As Thor had more than once come into contact with porcupine quills, he hesitated.'"> +</p> +<p> </p> +<h1> + THE GRIZZLY KING +</h1> +<h2> + A ROMANCE OF THE WILD +</h2> +<br /> +<h3> + BY<br /> + JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD +</h3> +<br /> +<h4>1918</h4> +<h3> + ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> + FRANK B. HOFFMAN +</h3> +<h4> +<br /> +To<br> +MY BOY +</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<p> + It is with something like a confession that I offer this second of my + nature books to the public—a confession, and a hope; the confession of one + who for years hunted and killed before he learned that the wild offered a + more thrilling sport than slaughter—and the hope that what I have written + may make others feel and understand that the greatest thrill of the hunt is + not in killing, but in letting live. It is true that in the great open + spaces one must kill to live; one must have meat, and meat is life. But + killing for food is not the lust of slaughter; it is not the lust which + always recalls to me that day in the British Columbia mountains when, in + less than two hours, I killed four grizzlies on a mountain slide—a + destruction of possibly a hundred and twenty years of life in a hundred and + twenty minutes. And that is only one instance of many in which I now regard + myself as having been almost a criminal—for killing for the excitement of + killing can be little less than murder. In their small way my animal books + are the reparation I am now striving to make, and it has been my earnest + desire to make them not only of romantic interest, but reliable in their + fact. As in human life, there are tragedy, and humour, and pathos in the + life of the wild; there are facts of tremendous interest, real happenings + and real lives to be written about, and very small necessity for one to + draw on imagination. In "Kazan" I tried to give the reader a picture of my + years of experience among the wild sledge dogs of the North. In "The + Grizzly" I have scrupulously adhered to facts as I have found them in the + lives of the wild creatures of which I have written. Little Muskwa was with + me all that summer and autumn in the Canadian Rockies. Pipoonaskoos is + buried in the Firepan Range country, with a slab over his head, just like a + white man. The two grizzly cubs we dug out on the Athabasca are dead. And + Thor still lives, for his range is in a country where no hunters go—and + when at last the opportunity came we did not kill him. This year (in July + of 1916) I am going back into the country of Thor and Muskwa. I think I + would know Thor if I saw him again, for he was a monster full-grown. But + in two years Muskwa had grown from cubhood into full bearhood. And yet I + believe that Muskwa would know me should we chance to meet again. I like to + think that he has not forgotten the sugar, and the scores of times he + cuddled up close to me at night, and the hunts we had together after roots + and berries, and the sham fights with which we amused ourselves so often in + camp. But, after all, perhaps he would not forgive me for that last day + when we ran away from him so hard—leaving him alone to his freedom in the + mountains. +</p> + JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD.<br /> + Owosso, Michigan,<br /> + May 5, 1916. +<p> </p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH1">CHAPTER ONE</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH2">CHAPTER TWO</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH3">CHAPTER THREE</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH4">CHAPTER FOUR</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH5">CHAPTER FIVE</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH6">CHAPTER SIX</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH7">CHAPTER SEVEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH8">CHAPTER EIGHT</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH9">CHAPTER NINE</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH10">CHAPTER TEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH11">CHAPTER ELEVEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH12">CHAPTER TWELVE</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH13">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH14">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH15">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH16">CHAPTER SIXTEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH17">CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH18">CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH19">CHAPTER NINETEEN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH20">CHAPTER TWENTY</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#CH21">THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN </a> +<p> </p> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-1"> + "As Thor had more than once come into contact with porcupine quills, he + hesitated." +</a> +</p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-2"> + "Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, swung a little + to one side, and then without any apparent effort—still like a huge + ball—he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done." +</a> +</p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-3"> + "They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look + at every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter + of a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation and stopped." +</a> +</p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-4"> + "'Come on!' he cried. 'The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our grizzly!'" +</a> +</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>THE GRIZZLY KING</h2> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH1">CHAPTER ONE</a></h3> +<p> + With the silence and immobility of a great reddish-tinted rock, Thor stood + for many minutes looking out over his domain. He could not see far, for, + like all grizzlies, his eyes were small and far apart, and his vision was + bad. At a distance of a third or a half a mile he could make out a goat or + a mountain sheep, but beyond that his world was a vast sun-filled or + night-darkened mystery through which he ranged mostly by the guidance of + sound and smell. +</p> +<p> + It was the sense of smell that held him still and motionless now. Up out of + the valley a scent had come to his nostrils that he had never smelled + before. It was something that did not belong there, and it stirred him + strangely. Vainly his slow-working brute mind struggled to comprehend it. + It was not caribou, for he had killed many caribou; it was not goat; it + was not sheep; and it was not the smell of the fat and lazy whistlers + sunning themselves on the rocks, for he had eaten hundreds of whistlers. It + was a scent that did not enrage him, and neither did it frighten him. He + was curious, and yet he did not go down to seek it out. Caution held him + back. +</p> +<p> + If Thor could have seen distinctly for a mile, or two miles, his eyes would + have discovered even less than the wind brought to him from down the + valley. He stood at the edge of a little plain, with the valley an eighth + of a mile below him, and the break over which he had come that afternoon an + eighth of a mile above him. The plain was very much like a cup, perhaps an + acre in extent, in the green slope of the mountain. It was covered with + rich, soft grass and June flowers, mountain violets and patches of + forget-me-nots, and wild asters and hyacinths, and in the centre of it was + a fifty-foot spatter of soft mud which Thor visited frequently when his + feet became rock-sore. +</p> +<p> + To the east and the west and the north of him spread out the wonderful + panorama of the Canadian Rockies, softened in the golden sunshine of a June + afternoon. +</p> +<p> + From up and down the valley, from the breaks between the peaks, and from + the little gullies cleft in shale and rock that crept up to the snow-lines + came a soft and droning murmur. It was the music of running water. That + music was always in the air, for the rivers, the creeks, and the tiny + streams gushing down from the snow that lay eternally up near the clouds + were never still. +</p> +<p> + There were sweet perfumes as well as music in the air. June and July—the + last of spring and the first of summer in the northern mountains—were + commingling. The earth was bursting with green; the early flowers were + turning the sunny slopes into coloured splashes of red and white and + purple, and everything that had life was singing—the fat whistlers on + their rocks, the pompous little gophers on their mounds, the big bumblebees + that buzzed from flower to flower, the hawks in the valley, and the eagles + over the peaks. Even Thor was singing in his way, for as he had paddled + through the soft mud a few minutes before he had rumbled curiously deep + down in his great chest. It was not a growl or a roar or a snarl; it was + the noise he made when he was contented. It was his song. +</p> +<p> + And now, for some mysterious reason, there had suddenly come a change in + this wonderful day for him. Motionless he still sniffed the wind. It + puzzled him. It disquieted him without alarming him. To the new and strange + smell that was in the air he was as keenly sensitive as a child's tongue to + the first sharp touch of a drop of brandy. And then, at last, a low and + sullen growl came like a distant roll of thunder from out of his chest. He + was overlord of these domains, and slowly his brain told him that there + should be no smell which he could not comprehend, and of which he was not + the master. +</p> +<p> + Thor reared up slowly, until the whole nine feet of him rested on his + haunches, and he sat like a trained dog, with his great forefeet, heavy + with mud, drooping in front of his chest. For ten years he had lived in + these mountains and never had he smelled that smell. He defied it. He + waited for it, while it came stronger and nearer. He did not hide himself. + Clean-cut and unafraid, he stood up. +</p> +<p> + He was a monster in size, and his new June coat shone a golden brown in the + sun. His forearms were almost as large as a man's body; the three largest + of his five knifelike claws were five and a half inches long; in the mud + his feet had left tracks that were fifteen inches from tip to tip. He was + fat, and sleek, and powerful. His eyes, no larger than hickory nuts, were + eight inches apart. His two upper fangs, sharp as stiletto points, were as + long as a man's thumb, and between his great jaws he could crush the neck + of a caribou. +</p> +<p> + Thor's life had been free of the presence of man, and he was not ugly. Like + most grizzlies, he did not kill for the pleasure of killing. Out of a herd + he would take one caribou, and he would eat that caribou to the marrow in + the last bone. He was a peaceful king. He had one law: "Let me alone!" he + said, and the voice of that law was in his attitude as he sat on his + haunches sniffing the strange smell. +</p> +<p> + In his massive strength, in his aloneness and his supremacy, the great bear + was like the mountains, unrivalled in the valleys as they were in the + skies. With the mountains, he had come down out of the ages. He was part of + them. The history of his race had begun and was dying among them, and they + were alike in many ways. Until this day he could not remember when anything + had come to question his might and his right—except those of his own + kind. With such rivals he had fought fairly and more than once to the + death. He was ready to fight again, if it came to a question of sovereignty + over the ranges which he claimed as his own. Until he was beaten he was + dominator, arbiter, and despot, if he chose to be. He was dynast of the + rich valleys and the green slopes, and liege lord of all living things + about him. He had won and kept these things openly, without strategy or + treachery. He was hated and he was feared, but he was without hatred or + fear of his own—and he was honest. Therefore he waited openly for the + strange thing that was coming to him from down the valley. +</p> +<p> + As he sat on his haunches, questioning the air with his keen brown nose, + something within him was reaching back into dim and bygone generations. + Never before had he caught the taint that was in his nostrils, yet now that + it came to him it did not seem altogether new. He could not place it. He + could not picture it. Yet he knew that it was a menace and a threat. +</p> +<p> + For ten minutes he sat like a carven thing on his haunches. Then the wind + shifted, and the scent grew less and less, until it was gone altogether. +</p> +<p> + Thor's flat ears lifted a little. He turned his huge head slowly so that + his eyes took in the green slope and the tiny plain. He easily forgot the + smell now that the air was clear and sweet again. He dropped on his four + feet, and resumed his gopher-hunting. +</p> +<p> + There was something of humour in his hunt. Thor weighed a thousand pounds; + a mountain gopher is six inches long and weighs six ounces. Yet Thor would + dig energetically for an hour, and rejoice at the end by swallowing the fat + little gopher like a pill; it was his <i>bonne bouche</i>, the luscious tidbit + in the quest of which he spent a third of his spring and summer digging. +</p> +<p> + He found a hole located to his satisfaction and began throwing out the + earth like a huge dog after a rat. He was on the crest of the slope. Once + or twice during the next half-hour he lifted his head, but he was no longer + disturbed by the strange smell that had come to him with the wind. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH2">CHAPTER TWO</a></h3> +<p> + A mile down the valley Jim Langdon stopped his horse where the spruce and + balsam timber thinned out at the mouth of a coulee, looked ahead of him for + a breathless moment or two, and then with an audible gasp of pleasure swung + his right leg over so that his knee crooked restfully about the horn of his + saddle, and waited. +</p> +<p> + Two or three hundred yards behind him, still buried in the timber, Otto was + having trouble with Dishpan, a contumacious pack-mare. Langdon grinned + happily as he listened to the other's vociferations, which threatened + Dishpan with every known form of torture and punishment, from instant + disembowelment to the more merciful end of losing her brain through the + medium of a club. He grinned because Otto's vocabulary descriptive of + terrible things always impending over the heads of his sleek and utterly + heedless pack-horses was one of his chief joys. He knew that if Dishpan + should elect to turn somersaults while diamond-hitched under her pack, + big, good-natured Bruce Otto would do nothing more than make the welkin + ring with his terrible, blood-curdling protest. +</p> +<p> + One after another the six horses of their outfit appeared out of the + timber, and last of all rode the mountain man. He was gathered like a + partly released spring in his saddle, an attitude born of years in the + mountains, and because of a certain difficulty he had in distributing + gracefully his six-foot-two-inch length of flesh and bone astride a + mountain cayuse. +</p> +<p> + Upon his appearance Langdon dismounted, and turned his eyes again up the + valley. The stubbly blond beard on his face did not conceal the deep tan + painted there by weeks of exposure in the mountains; he had opened his + shirt at the throat, exposing a neck darkened by sun and wind; his eyes + were of a keen, searching blue-gray, and they quested the country ahead of + him now with the joyous intentness of the hunter and the adventurer. +</p> +<p> + Langdon was thirty-five. A part of his life he spent in the wild places; + the other part he spent in writing about the things he found there. His + companion was five years his junior in age, but had the better of him by + six inches in length of anatomy, if those additional inches could be called + an advantage. Bruce thought they were not. "The devil of it is I ain't done + growin' yet!" he often explained. +</p> +<p> + He rode up now and unlimbered himself. Langdon pointed ahead. +</p> +<p> + "Did you ever see anything to beat that?" he asked. +</p> +<p> + "Fine country," agreed Bruce. "Mighty good place to camp, too, Jim. There + ought to be caribou in this range, an' bear. We need some fresh meat. Gimme + a match, will you?" +</p> +<p> + It had come to be a habit with them to light both their pipes with one + match when possible. They performed this ceremony now while viewing the + situation. As he puffed the first luxurious cloud of smoke from his + bulldog, Langdon nodded toward the timber from which they had just come. +</p> +<p> + "Fine place for our tepee," he said. "Dry wood, running water, and the + first good balsam we've struck in a week for our beds. We can hobble the + horses in that little open plain we crossed a quarter of a mile back. I saw + plenty of buffalo grass and a lot of wild timothy." +</p> +<p> + He looked at his watch. +</p> +<p> + "It's only three o'clock. We might go on. But—what do you say? Shall we + stick for a day or two, and see what this country looks like?" +</p> +<p> + "Looks good to me," said Bruce. +</p> +<p> + He sat down as he spoke, with his back to a rock, and over his knee he + levelled a long brass telescope. From his saddle Langdon unslung a + binocular glass imported from Paris. The telescope was a relic of the Civil + War. Together, their shoulders touching as they steadied themselves against + the rock, they studied the rolling slopes and the green sides of the + mountains ahead of them. +</p> +<p> + They were in the Big Game country, and what Langdon called the Unknown. So + far as he and Bruce Otto could discover, no other white man had ever + preceded them. It was a country shut in by tremendous ranges, through which + it had taken them twenty days of sweating toil to make a hundred miles. +</p> +<p> + That afternoon they had crossed the summit of the Great Divide that split + the skies north and south, and through their glasses they were looking now + upon the first green slopes and wonderful peaks of the Firepan Mountains. + To the northward—and they had been travelling north—was the Skeena + River; on the west and south were the Babine range and waterways; eastward, + over the Divide, was the Driftwood, and still farther eastward the Ominica + range and the tributaries of the Finley. They had started from civilization + on the tenth day of May and this was the thirtieth of June. +</p> +<p> + As Langdon looked through his glasses he believed that at last they had + reached the bourne of their desires. For nearly two months they had worked + to get beyond the trails of men, and they had succeeded. There were no + hunters here. There were no prospectors. The valley ahead of them was + filled with golden promise, and as he sought out the first of its mystery + and its wonder his heart was filled with the deep and satisfying joy which + only men like Langdon can fully understand. To his friend and comrade, + Bruce Otto, with whom he had gone five times into the North country, all + mountains and all valleys were very much alike; he was born among them, he + had lived among them all his life, and he would probably die among them. +</p> +<p> + It was Bruce who gave him a sudden sharp nudge with his elbow. +</p> +<p> + "I see the heads of three caribou crossing a dip about a mile and a half + up the valley," he said, without taking his eyes from the telescope. +</p> +<p> + "And I see a Nanny and her kid on the black shale of that first mountain to + the right," replied Langdon. "And, by George, there's a Sky Pilot looking + down on her from a crag a thousand feet above the shale! He's got a beard a + foot long. Bruce, I'll bet we've struck a regular Garden of Eden!" +</p> +<p> + "Looks it," vouchsafed Bruce, coiling up his long legs to get a better rest + for his telescope. "If this ain't a sheep an' bear country, I've made the + worst guess I ever made in my life." +</p> +<p> + For five minutes they looked, without a word passing between them. Behind + them their horses were nibbling hungrily in the thick, rich grass. The + sound of the many waters in the mountains droned in their ears, and the + valley seemed sleeping in a sea of sunshine. Langdon could think of nothing + more comparable than that—slumber. The valley was like a great, + comfortable, happy cat, and the sounds they heard, all commingling in that + pleasing drone, was its drowsy purring. He was focussing his glass a + little more closely on the goat standing watchfully on its crag, when Otto + spoke again. +</p> +<p> + "I see a grizzly as big as a house!" he announced quietly. +</p> +<p> + Bruce seldom allowed his equanimity to be disturbed, except by the + pack-horses. Thrilling news like this he always introduced as unconcernedly + as though speaking of a bunch of violets. +</p> +<p> + Langdon sat up with a jerk. +</p> +<p> + "Where?" he demanded. +</p> +<p> + He leaned over to get the range of the other's telescope, every nerve in + his body suddenly aquiver. +</p> +<p> + "See that slope on the second shoulder, just beyond the ravine over there?" + said Bruce, with one eye closed and the other still glued to the telescope. + "He's halfway up, digging out a gopher." +</p> +<p> + Langdon focussed his glass on the slope, and a moment later an excited gasp + came from him. +</p> +<p> + "See 'im?" asked Bruce. +</p> +<p> + "The glass has pulled him within four feet of my nose," replied Langdon. + "Bruce, that's the biggest grizzly in the Rocky Mountains!" +</p> +<p> + "If he ain't, he's his twin brother," chuckled the packer, without moving a + muscle. "He beats your eight-footer by a dozen inches, Jimmy! An'"—he + paused at this psychological moment to pull a plug of black MacDonald from + his pocket and bite off a mouthful, without taking the telescope from his + eye—"an' the wind is in our favour an' he's as busy as a flea!" he + finished. +</p> +<p> + Otto unwound himself and rose to his feet, and Langdon jumped up briskly. + In such situations as this there was a mutual understanding between them + which made words unnecessary. They led the eight horses back into the edge + of the timber and tied them there, took their rifles from the leather + holsters, and each was careful to put a sixth cartridge in the chamber of + his weapon. Then for a matter of two minutes they both studied the slope + and its approaches with their naked eyes. +</p> +<p> + "We can slip up the ravine," suggested Langdon. +</p> +<p> + Bruce nodded. +</p> +<p> + "I reckon it's a three-hundred-yard shot from there," he said. "It's the + best we can do. He'd get our wind if we went below 'im. If it was a couple + o' hours earlier—" +</p> +<p> + "We'd climb over the mountain and come down on him from <i>above</i>!" exclaimed + Langdon, laughing. +</p> +<p> + "Bruce, you're the most senseless idiot on the face of the globe when it + comes to climbing mountains! You'd climb over Hardesty or Geikie to shoot a + goat from above, even though you could get him from the valley without any + work at all. I'm glad it isn't morning. We can get that bear from the + ravine!" +</p> +<p> + "Mebbe," said Bruce, and they started. +</p> +<p> + They walked openly over the green, flower-carpeted meadows ahead of them. + Until they came within at least half a mile of the grizzly there was no + danger of him seeing them. The wind had shifted, and was almost in their + faces. Their swift walk changed to a dog-trot, and they swung in nearer to + the slope, so that for fifteen minutes a huge knoll concealed the grizzly. + In another ten minutes they came to the ravine, a narrow, rock-littered and + precipitous gully worn in the mountainside by centuries of spring floods + gushing down from the snow-peaks above. Here they made cautious + observation. +</p> +<p> + The big grizzly was perhaps six hundred yards up the slope, and pretty + close to three hundred yards from the nearest point reached by the gully. +</p> +<p> + Bruce spoke in a whisper now. +</p> +<p> + "You go up an' do the stalkin', Jimmy," he said. "That bear's goin' to do + one of two things if you miss or only wound 'im—one o' three, mebbe: he's + going to investigate <i>you</i>, or he's going up over the break, or he's comin' + down in the valley—this way. We can't keep 'im from goin' over the break, + an' if he tackles you—just summerset it down the gully. You can beat 'im + out. He's most apt to come this way if you don't get 'im, so I'll wait + here. Good luck to you, Jimmy!" +</p> +<p> + With this he went out and crouched behind a rock, where he could keep an + eye on the grizzly, and Langdon began to climb quietly up the + boulder-strewn gully. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH3">CHAPTER THREE</a></h3> +<p> + Of all the living creatures in this sleeping valley, Thor was the busiest. + He was a bear with individuality, you might say. Like some people, he went + to bed very early; he began to get sleepy in October, and turned in for his + long nap in November. He slept until April, and usually was a week or ten + days behind other bears in waking. He was a sound sleeper, and when awake + he was very wide awake. During April and May he permitted himself to doze + considerably in the warmth of sunny rocks, but from the beginning of June + until the middle of September he closed his eyes in real sleep just about + four hours out of every twelve. +</p> +<p> + He was very busy as Langdon began his cautious climb up the gully. He had + succeeded in getting his gopher, a fat, aldermanic old patriarch who had + disappeared in one crunch and a gulp, and he was now absorbed in finishing + off his day's feast with an occasional fat, white grub and a few sour ants + captured from under stones which he turned over with his paw. +</p> +<p> + In his search after these delicacies Thor used his right paw in turning + over the rocks. Ninety-nine out of every hundred bears—probably a hundred + and ninety-nine out of every two hundred—are left-handed; Thor was + right-handed. This gave him an advantage in fighting, in fishing, and in + stalking meat, for a grizzly's right arm is longer than his left—so much + longer that if he lost his sixth sense of orientation he would be + constantly travelling in a circle. +</p> +<p> + In his quest Thor was headed for the gully. His huge head hung close to the + ground. At short distances his vision was microscopic in its keenness; his + olfactory nerves were so sensitive that he could catch one of the big + rock-ants with his eyes shut. +</p> +<p> + He would choose the flat rocks mostly. His huge right paw, with its long + claws, was as clever as a human hand. The stone lifted, a sniff or two, a + lick of his hot, flat tongue, and he ambled on to the next. +</p> +<p> + He took this work with tremendous seriousness, much like an elephant + hunting for peanuts hidden in a bale of hay. He saw no humour in the + operation. As a matter of fact, Nature had not intended there should be any + humour about it. Thor's time was more or less valueless, and during the + course of a summer he absorbed in his system a good many hundred thousand + sour ants, sweet grubs, and juicy insects of various kinds, not to mention + a host of gophers and still tinier rock-rabbits. These small things all + added to the huge rolls of fat which it was necessary for him to store up + for that "absorptive consumption" which kept him alive during his long + winter sleep. This was why Nature had made his little greenish-brown eyes + twin microscopes, infallible at distances of a few feet, and almost + worthless at a thousand yards. +</p> +<p> + As he was about to turn over a fresh stone Thor paused in his operations. + For a full minute he stood nearly motionless. Then his head swung slowly, + his nose close to the ground. Very faintly he had caught an exceedingly + pleasing odour. It was so faint that he was afraid of losing it if he + moved. So he stood until he was sure of himself, then he swung his huge + shoulders around and descended two yards down the slope, swinging his head + slowly from right to left, and sniffing. The scent grew stronger. Another + two yards down the slope he found it very strong under a rock. It was a big + rock, and weighed probably two hundred pounds. Thor dragged it aside with + his one right hand as if it were no more than a pebble. +</p> +<p> + Instantly there was a wild and protesting chatter, and a tiny striped + rock-rabbit, very much like a chipmunk, darted away just as Thor's left + hand came down with a smash that would have broken the neck of a caribou. +</p> +<p> + It was not the scent of the rock-rabbit, but the savour of what the + rock-rabbit had stored under the stone that had attracted Thor. And this + booty still remained—a half-pint of ground-nuts piled carefully in a + little hollow lined with moss. They were not really nuts. They were more + like diminutive potatoes, about the size of cherries, and very much like + potatoes in appearance. They were starchy and sweet, and fattening. Thor + enjoyed them immensely, rumbling in that curious satisfied way deep down in + his chest as he feasted. And then he resumed his quest. +</p> +<p> + He did not hear Langdon as the hunter came nearer and nearer up the broken + gully. He did not smell him, for the wind was fatally wrong. He had + forgotten the noxious man-smell that had disturbed and irritated him an + hour before. He was quite happy; he was good-humoured; he was fat and + sleek. An irritable, cross-grained, and quarrelsome bear is always thin. + The true hunter knows him as soon as he sets eyes on him. He is like the + rogue elephant. +</p> +<p> + Thor continued his food-seeking, edging still closer to the gully. He was + within a hundred and fifty yards of it when a sound suddenly brought him + alert. Langdon, in his effort to creep up the steep side of the gully for a + shot, had accidentally loosened a rock. It went crashing down the ravine, + starting other stones that followed in a noisy clatter. At the foot of the + coulee, six hundred yards down, Bruce swore softly under his breath. He saw + Thor sit up. At that distance he was going to shoot if the bear made for + the break. +</p> +<p> + For thirty seconds Thor sat on his haunches. Then he started for the + ravine, ambling slowly and deliberately. Langdon, panting and inwardly + cursing at his ill luck, struggled to make the last ten feet to the edge + of the slope. He heard Bruce yell, but he could not make out the warning. + Hands and feet he dug fiercely into shale and rock as he fought to make + those last three or four yards as quickly as possible. +</p> +<p> + He was almost to the top when he paused for a moment and turned his eyes + upward. His heart went into his throat, and he started. For ten seconds he + could not move. Directly over him was a monster head and a huge hulk of + shoulder. Thor was looking down on him, his jaws agape, his finger-long + fangs snarling, his eyes burning with a greenish-red fire. +</p> +<p> + In that moment Thor saw his first of man. His great lungs were filled with + the hot smell of him, and suddenly he turned away from that smell as if + from a plague. With his rifle half under him Langdon had had no opportunity + to shoot. Wildly he clambered up the remaining few feet. The shale and + stones slipped and slid under him. It was a matter of sixty seconds before + he pulled himself over the top. +</p> +<p> + Thor was a hundred yards away, speeding in a rolling, ball-like motion + toward the break. From the foot of the coulee came the sharp crack of + Otto's rifle. Langdon squatted quickly, raising his left knee for a rest, + and at a hundred and fifty yards began firing. +</p> +<p> + Sometimes it happens that an hour—a minute—changes the destiny of man; + and the ten seconds which followed swiftly after that first shot from the + foot of the coulee changed Thor. He had got his fill of the man-smell. He + had seen man. And now he <i>felt</i> him. +</p> +<p> + It was as if one of the lightning flashes he had often seen splitting the + dark skies had descended upon him and had entered his flesh like a red-hot + knife; and with that first burning agony of pain came the strange, echoing + roar of the rifles. He had turned up the slope when the bullet struck him + in the fore-shoulder, mushrooming its deadly soft point against his tough + hide, and tearing a hole through his flesh—but without touching the bone. + He was two hundred yards from the ravine when it hit; he was nearer three + hundred when the stinging fire seared him again, this time in his flank. +</p> +<p> + Neither shot had staggered his huge bulk, twenty such shots would not have + killed him. But the second stopped him, and he turned with a roar of rage + that was like the bellowing of a mad bull—a snarling, thunderous cry of + wrath that could have been heard a quarter of a mile down the valley. +</p> +<p> + Bruce heard it as he fired his sixth unavailing shot at seven hundred + yards. Langdon was reloading. For fifteen seconds Thor offered himself + openly, roaring his defiance, challenging the enemy he could no longer see; + and then at Langdon's seventh shot, a whiplash of fire raked his back, and + in strange dread of this lightning which he could not fight, Thor continued + up over the break. He heard other rifle shots, which were like a new kind + of thunder. But he was not hit again. Painfully he began the descent into + the next valley. +</p> +<p> + Thor knew that he was hurt, but he could not comprehend that hurt. Once in + the descent he paused for a few moments, and a little pool of blood dripped + upon the ground under his foreleg. He sniffed at it suspiciously and + wonderingly. +</p> +<p> + He swung eastward, and a little later he caught a fresh taint of the + man-smell in the air. The wind was bringing it to him now, and in spite of + the fact that he wanted to lie down and nurse his wound he ambled on a + little faster, for he had learned one thing that he would never forget: the + man-smell and his hurt had come together. +</p> +<p> + He reached the bottoms, and buried himself in the thick timber; and then, + crossing this timber, he came to a creek. Perhaps a hundred times he had + travelled up and down this creek. It was the main trail that led from one + half of his range to the other. +</p> +<p> + Instinctively he always took this trail when he was hurt or when he was + sick, and also when he was ready to den up for the winter. There was one + chief reason for this: he was born in the almost impenetrable fastnesses at + the head of the creek, and his cubhood had been spent amid its brambles of + wild currants and soap berries and its rich red ground carpets of + kinnikinic. It was home. In it he was alone. It was the one part of his + domain that he held inviolate from all other bears. He tolerated other + bears—blacks and grizzlies—on the wider and sunnier slopes of his range + just so long as they moved on when he approached. They might seek food + there, and nap in the sun-pools, and live in quiet and peace if they did + not defy his suzerainty. +</p> +<p> + Thor did not drive other bears from his range, except when it was + necessary to demonstrate again that he was High Mogul. This happened + occasionally, and there was a fight. And always after a fight Thor came + into this valley and went up the creek to cure his wounds. +</p> +<p> + He made his way more slowly than usual to-day. There was a terrible pain in + his fore-shoulder. Now and then it hurt him so that his leg doubled up, and + he stumbled. Several times he waded shoulder-deep into pools and let the + cold water run over his wounds. Gradually they stopped bleeding. But the + pain grew worse. +</p> +<p> + Thor's best friend in such an emergency was a clay wallow. This was the + second reason why he always took this trail when he was sick or hurt. It + led to the clay wallow. And the clay wallow was his doctor. +</p> +<p> + The sun was setting before he reached the wallow. His jaws hung open a + little. His great head drooped lower. He had lost a great deal of blood. He + was tired, and his shoulder hurt him so badly that he wanted to tear with + his teeth at the strange fire that was consuming it. +</p> +<p> + The clay wallow was twenty or thirty feet in diameter, and hollowed into a + little shallow pool in the centre. It was a soft, cool, golden-coloured + clay, and Thor waded into it to his armpits. Then he rolled over gently on + his wounded side. The clay touched his hurt like a cooling salve. It sealed + the cut, and Thor gave a great heaving gasp of relief. For a long time he + lay in that soft bed of clay. The sun went down, darkness came, and the + wonderful stars filled the sky. And still Thor lay there, nursing that + first hurt of man. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH4">CHAPTER FOUR</a></h3> +<p> + In the edge of the balsam and spruce Langdon and Otto sat smoking their + pipes after supper, with the glowing embers of a fire at their feet. The + night air in these higher altitudes of the mountains had grown chilly, and + Bruce rose long enough to throw a fresh armful of dry spruce on the coals. + Then he stretched out his long form again, with his head and shoulders + bolstered comfortably against the butt of a tree, and for the fiftieth time + he chuckled. +</p> +<p> + "Chuckle an' be blasted," growled Langdon. "I tell you I hit him twice, + Bruce—twice anyway; and I was at a devilish disadvantage!" +</p> +<p> + "'Specially when 'e was lookin' down an' grinnin' in your face," retorted + Bruce, who had enjoyed hugely his comrade's ill luck. "Jimmy, at that + distance you should a'most ha' killed 'im with a rock!" +</p> +<p> + "My gun was under me," explained Langdon for the twentieth time. +</p> +<p> + "W'ich ain't just the proper place for a gun to be when yo'r hunting a + grizzly," reminded Bruce. +</p> +<p> + "The gully was confoundedly steep. I had to dig in with both feet and my + fingers. If it had been any steeper I would have used my teeth." +</p> +<p> + Langdon sat up, knocked the ash out of the bowl of his pipe, and reloaded + it with fresh tobacco. +</p> +<p> + "Bruce, that's the biggest grizzly in the Rocky Mountains!" +</p> +<p> + "He'd 'a' made a fine rug in your den, Jimmy—if yo'r gun hadn't 'appened + to 'ave been under you." +</p> +<p> + "And I'm going to have him in my den before I finish," declared Langdon. + "I've made up my mind. We'll make a permanent camp here. I'm going to get + that grizzly if it takes all summer. I'd rather have him than any other ten + bears in the Firepan Range. He was a nine-footer if an inch. His head was + as big as a bushel basket, and the hair on his shoulders was four inches + long. I don't know that I'm sorry I didn't kill him. He's hit, and he'll + surely fight say. There'll be a lot of fun in getting him." +</p> +<p> + "There will that," agreed Bruce, "'specially if you meet 'im again during + the next week or so, while he's still sore from the bullets. Better not + have the gun under you then, Jimmy!" +</p> +<p> + "What do you say to making this a permanent camp?" +</p> +<p> + "Couldn't be better. Plenty of fresh meat, good grazing, and fine water." + After a moment he added: "He was hit pretty hard. He was bleedin' bad at + the summit." +</p> +<p> + In the firelight Langdon began cleaning his rifle. +</p> +<p> + "You think he may clear out—leave the country?" +</p> +<p> + Bruce emitted a grunt of disgust. +</p> +<p> + "Clear out? <i>Run away</i>? Mebbe he would if he was a black. But he's a + grizzly, and the boss of this country. He may fight shy of this valley for + a while, but you can bet he ain't goin' to emigrate. The harder you hit a + grizzly the madder he gets, an' if you keep on hittin' 'im he keeps on + gettin' madder, until he drops dead. If you want that bear bad enough we + can surely get him." +</p> +<p> + "I do," Langdon reiterated with emphasis. "He'll smash record measurements + or I miss my guess. I want him, and I want him bad, Bruce. Do you think + we'll be able to trail him in the morning?" +</p> +<p> + Bruce shook his head. +</p> +<p> + "It won't be a matter of trailing," he said. "It's just simply <i>hunt</i>. + After a grizzly has been hit he keeps movin'. He won't go out of his range, + an' neither is he going to show himself on the open slopes like that up + there. Metoosin ought to be along with the dogs inside of three or four + days, an' when we get that bunch of Airedales in action, there'll be some + fun." +</p> +<p> + Langdon sighted at the fire through the polished barrel of his rifle, and + said doubtfully: +</p> +<p> + "I've been having my doubts about Metoosin for a week back. We've come + through some mighty rough country." +</p> +<p> + "That old Indian could follow our trail if we travelled on rock," declared + Bruce confidently. "He'll be here inside o' three days, barring the dogs + don't run their fool heads into too many porcupines. An' when they + come"—he rose and stretched his gaunt frame—"we'll have the biggest time + we ever had in our lives. I'm just guessin' these mount'ins are so full o' + bear that them ten dogs will all be massacreed within a week. Want to bet?" +</p> +<p> + Langdon closed his rifle with a snap. +</p> +<p> + "I only want one bear," he said, ignoring the challenge, "and I have an + idea we'll get him to-morrow. You're the bear specialist of the outfit, + Bruce, but I think he was too hard hit to travel far." +</p> +<p> + They had made two beds of soft balsam boughs near the fire, and Langdon now + followed his companion's example, and began spreading his blankets. It had + been a hard day, and within five minutes after stretching himself out he + was asleep. +</p> +<p> + He was still asleep when Bruce rolled out from under his blanket at dawn. + Without rousing Langdon the young packer slipped on his boots and waded + back a quarter of a mile through the heavy dew to round up the horses. When + he returned he brought Dishpan and their saddle-horses with him. By that + time Langdon was up, and starting a fire. +</p> +<p> + Langdon frequently reminded himself that such mornings as this had made him + disappoint the doctors and rob the grave. Just eight years ago this June he + had come into the North for the first time, thin-chested and with a bad + lung. "You can go if you insist, young man," one of the doctors had told + him, "but you're going to your own funeral." And now he had a five-inch + expansion and was as tough as a knot. The first rose-tints of the sun were + creeping over the mountain-tops; the air was filled with the sweetness of + flowers, and dew, and growing things, and his lungs drew in deep breaths of + oxygen laden with the tonic and perfume of balsam. +</p> +<p> + He was more demonstrative than his companion in the joyousness of this wild + life. It made him want to shout, and sing, and whistle. He restrained + himself this morning. The thrill of the hunt was in his blood. +</p> +<p> + While Otto saddled the horses Langdon made the bannock. He had become an + expert at what he called "wild-bread" baking, and his method possessed the + double efficiency of saving both waste and time. +</p> +<p> + He opened one of the heavy canvas flour sacks, made a hollow in the flour + with his two doubled fists, partly filled this hollow with a pint of water + and half a cupful of caribou grease, added a tablespoonful of baking powder + and a three-finger pinch of salt, and began to mix. Inside of five minutes + he had the bannock loaves in the big tin reflector, and half an hour later + the sheep steaks were fried, the potatoes done, and the bannock baked to a + golden brown. +</p> +<p> + The sun was just showing its face in the east when they trailed out of + camp. They rode across the valley, but walked up the slope, the horses + following obediently in their footsteps. +</p> +<p> + It was not difficult to pick up Thor's trail. Where he had paused to snarl + back defiance at his enemies there was a big red spatter on the ground; + from this point to the summit they followed a crimson thread of blood. + Three times in descending into the other valley they found where Thor had + stopped, and each time they saw where a pool of blood had soaked into the + earth or run over the rock. +</p> +<p> + They passed through the timber and came to the creek, and here, in a strip + of firm black sand, Thor's footprints brought them to a pause. Bruce + stared. An exclamation of amazement came from Langdon, and without a word + having passed between them he drew out his pocket-tape and knelt beside one + of the tracks. +</p> +<p> + "Fifteen and a quarter inches!" he gasped. +</p> +<p> + "Measure another," said Bruce. +</p> +<p> + "Fifteen and—a half!" +</p> +<p> + Bruce looked up the gorge. +</p> +<p> + "The biggest I ever see was fourteen an' a half," he said, and there was a + touch of awe in his voice. "He was shot up the Athabasca an' he's stood as + the biggest grizzly ever killed in British Columbia. Jimmy, <i>this one beats + 'im</i>!" +</p> +<p> + They went on, and measured the tracks again at the edge of the first pool + where Thor had bathed his wounds. There was almost no variation in the + measurements. Only occasionally after this did they find spots of blood. It + was ten o'clock when they came to the clay wallow and saw where Thor had + made his bed in it. +</p> +<p> + "He was pretty sick," said Bruce in a low voice. "He was here most all + night." +</p> +<p> + Moved by the same impulse and the same thought, they looked ahead of them. + Half a mile farther on the mountains closed in until the gorge between them + was dark and sunless. +</p> +<p> + "He was pretty sick," repeated Bruce, still looking ahead. "Mebbe we'd + better tie the horses an' go on alone. It's possible—he's in there." +</p> +<p> + They tied the horses to scrub cedars, and relieved Dishpan of her pack. +</p> +<p> + Then, with their rifles in readiness, and eyes and ears alert, they went on + cautiously into the silence and gloom of the gorge. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH5">CHAPTER FIVE</a></h3> +<p> + Thor had gone up the gorge at daybreak. He was stiff when he rose from the + clay wallow, but a good deal of the burning and pain had gone from his + wound. It still hurt him, but not as it had hurt him the preceding evening. + His discomfort was not all in his shoulder, and it was not in any one place + in particular. He was <i>sick</i>, and had he been human he would have been in + bed with a thermometer under his tongue and a doctor holding his pulse. He + walked up the gorge slowly and laggingly. An indefatigable seeker of food, + he no longer thought of food. He was not hungry, and he did not want to + eat. +</p> +<p> + With his hot tongue he lapped frequently at the cool water of the creek, + and even more frequently he turned half about, and sniffed the wind. He + knew that the man-smell and the strange thunder and the still more + inexplicable lightning lay behind him. All night he had been on guard, and + he was cautious now. +</p> +<p> + For a particular hurt Thor knew of no particular remedy. He was not a + botanist in the finer sense of the word, but in creating him the Spirit of + the Wild had ordained that he should be his own physician. As a cat seeks + catnip, so Thor sought certain things when he was not feeling well. All + bitterness is not quinine, but certainly bitter things were Thor's + remedies, and as he made his way up the gorge his nose hung close to the + ground, and he sniffed in the low copses and thick bush-tangles he passed. +</p> +<p> + He came to a small green spot covered with kinnikinic, a ground plant two + inches high which bore red berries as big as a small pea. They were not red + now, but green; bitter as gall, and contained an astringent tonic called + uvaursi. Thor ate them. +</p> +<p> + After that he found soap berries growing on bushes that looked very much + like currant bushes. The fruit was already larger than currants, and + turning pink. Indians ate these berries when they had fever, and Thor + gathered half a pint before he went on. They, too, were bitter. +</p> +<p> + He nosed the trees, and found at last what he wanted. It was a jackpine, + and at several places within his reach the fresh pitch was oozing. A bear + seldom passes a bleeding jackpine. It is his chief tonic, and Thor licked + the fresh pitch with his tongue. In this way he absorbed not only + turpentine, but also, in a roundabout sort of way, a whole pharmacopoeia of + medicines made from this particular element. +</p> +<p> + By the time he arrived at the end of the gorge Thor's stomach was a fairly + well-stocked drug emporium. Among other things he had eaten perhaps half a + quart of spruce and balsam needles. When a dog is sick he eats grass; when + a bear is sick he eats pine or balsam needles if he can get them. Also he + pads his stomach and intestines with them in the last hour before denning + himself away for the winter. +</p> +<p> + The sun was not yet up when Thor came to the end of the gorge, and stood + for a few moments at the mouth of a low cave that reached back into the + wall of the mountain. How far his memory went back it would be impossible + to say; but in the whole world, as he knew it, this cave was home. It was + not more than four feet high, and twice as wide, but it was many times as + deep and was carpeted with a soft white floor of sand. In some past age a + little stream had trickled out of this cavern, and the far end of it made a + comfortable bedroom for a sleeping bear when the temperature was fifty + degrees below zero. +</p> +<p> + Ten years before Thor's mother had gone in there to sleep through the + winter, and when she waddled out to get her first glimpse of spring three + little cubs waddled with her. Thor was one of them. He was still half + blind, for it is five weeks after a grizzly cub is born before he can see; + and there was not much hair on his body, for a grizzly cub is born as naked + as a human baby. His eyes open and his hair begins to grow at just about + the same time. Since then Thor had denned eight times in that cavern home. +</p> +<p> + He wanted to go in now. He wanted to lie down in the far end of it and wait + until he felt better. For perhaps two or three minutes he hesitated, + sniffing yearningly at the door to his cave, and then feeling the wind from + down the gorge. Something told him that he should go on. +</p> +<p> + To the westward there was a sloping ascent up out of the gorge to the + summit, and Thor climbed this. The sun was well up when he reached the top, + and for a little while he rested again and looked down on the other half of + his domain. +</p> +<p> + Even more wonderful was this valley than the one into which Bruce and + Langdon had ridden a few hours before. From range to range it was a good + two miles in width, and in the opposite directions it stretched away in a + great rolling panorama of gold and green and black. From where Thor stood + it was like an immense park. Green slopes reached almost to the summits of + the mountains, and to a point halfway up these slopes—the last + timber-line—clumps of spruce and balsam trees were scattered over the + green as if set there by the hands of men. Some of these timber-patches + were no larger than the decorative clumps in a city park, and others + covered acres and tens of acres; and at the foot of the slopes on either + side, like decorative fringes, were thin and unbroken lines of forest. + Between these two lines of forest lay the open valley of soft and + undulating meadow, dotted with its purplish bosks of buffalo willow and + mountain sage, its green coppices of wild-rose and thorn, and its clumps + of trees. In the hollow of the valley ran a stream. +</p> +<p> + Thor descended about four hundred yards from where he stood, and then + turned northward along the green slope, so that he was travelling from + patch to patch of the parklike timber, a hundred and fifty or two hundred + yards above the fringe of forest. To this height, midway between the + meadows in the valley and the first shale and bare rock of the peaks, he + came most frequently on his small game hunts. +</p> +<p> + Like fat woodchucks the whistlers were already beginning to sun themselves + on their rocks. Their long, soft, elusive whistlings, pleasant to hear + above the drone of mountain waters, filled the air with a musical cadence. + Now and then one would whistle shrilly and warningly close at hand, and + then flatten himself out on his rock as the big bear passed, and for a few + moments no whistling would break upon the gentle purring of the valley. +</p> +<p> + But Thor was giving no thought to the hunt this morning. Twice he + encountered porcupines, the sweetest of all morsels to him, and passed them + unnoticed; the warm, <i>sleeping</i> smell of a caribou came hot and fresh from + a thicket, but he did not approach the thicket to investigate; out of a + coulee, narrow and dark, like a black ditch, he caught the scent of a + badger. For two hours he travelled steadily northward along the half-crest + of the slopes before he struck down through the timber to the stream. +</p> +<p> + The clay adhering to his wound was beginning to harden, and again he waded + shoulder-deep into a pool, and stood there for several minutes. The water + washed most of the clay away. For another two hours he followed the creek, + drinking frequently. Then came the <i>sapoos oowin</i>—six hours after he had + left the clay wallow. The kinnikinic berries, the soap berries, the + jackpine pitch, the spruce and balsam needles, and the water he had drunk, + all mixed in his stomach in one big compelling dose, brought it about—and + Thor felt tremendously better, so much better that for the first time he + turned and growled back in the direction of his enemies. His shoulder still + hurt him, but his sickness was gone. +</p> +<p> + For many minutes after the <i>sapoos oowin</i> he stood without moving, and many + times he growled. The snarling rumble deep in his chest had a new meaning + now. Until last night and to-day he had not known a real hatred. He had + fought other bears, but the fighting rage was not hate. It came quickly, + and passed away quickly; it left no growing ugliness; he licked the wounds + of a clawed enemy, and was quite frequently happy while he nursed them. But + this new thing that was born in him was different. +</p> +<p> + With an unforgetable and ferocious hatred he hated the thing that had hurt + him. He hated the man-smell; he hated the strange, white-faced thing he had + seen clinging to the side of the gorge; and his hatred included everything + associated with them. It was a hatred born of instinct and roused sharply + from its long slumber by experience. +</p> +<p> + Without ever having seen or smelled man before, he knew that man was his + deadliest enemy, and to be feared more than all the wild things in the + mountains. He would fight the biggest grizzly. He would turn on the + fiercest pack of wolves. He would brave flood and fire without flinching. + But before man he must flee! He must hide! He must constantly guard himself + in the peaks and on the plains with eyes and ears and nose! +</p> +<p> + Why he sensed this, why he understood all at once that a creature had come + into his world, a pigmy in size, yet more to be dreaded than any foe he had + ever known, was a miracle which nature alone could explain. It was a + hearkening back in the age-dimmed mental fabric of Thor's race to the + earliest days of man—man, first of all, with the club; man with the spear + hardened in fire; man with the flint-tipped arrow; man with the trap and + the deadfall, and, lastly, man with the gun. Through all the ages man had + been his one and only master. Nature had impressed it upon him—had been + impressing it upon him through a hundred or a thousand or ten thousand + generations. +</p> +<p> + And now for the first time in his life that dormant part of his instinct + leaped into warning wakefulness, and he understood. He hated man, and + hereafter he would hate everything that bore the man-smell. And with this + hate there was also born in him for the first time <i>fear</i>. Had man never + pushed Thor and his kind to the death the world would not have known him as + Ursus Horribilis the Terrible. +</p> +<p> + Thor still followed the creek, nosing along slowly and lumberingly, but + very steadily; his head and neck bent low, his huge rear quarters rising + and falling in that rolling motion peculiar to all bears, and especially + so of the grizzly. His long claws <i>click-click-clicked</i> on the stones; he + crunched heavily in the gravel; in soft sand he left enormous footprints. +</p> +<p> + That part of the valley which he was now entering held a particular + significance for Thor, and he began to loiter, pausing often to sniff the + air on all sides of him. He was not a monogamist, but for many mating + seasons past he had come to find his <i>Iskwao</i> in this wonderful sweep of + meadow and plain between the two ranges. He could always expect her in + July, waiting for him or seeking him with that strange savage longing of + motherhood in her breast. She was a splendid grizzly who came from the + western ranges when the spirit of mating days called; big, and strong, and + of a beautiful golden-brown colour, so that the children of Thor and his + <i>Iskwao</i> were the finest young grizzlies in all the mountains. The mother + took them back with her unborn, and they opened their eyes and lived and + fought in the valleys and on the slopes far to the west. If in later years + Thor ever chased his own children out of his hunting grounds, or whipped + them in a fight, Nature kindly blinded him to the fact. He was like most + grouchy old bachelors: he did not like small folk. He tolerated a little + cub as a cross-grained old woman-hater might have tolerated a pink baby; + but he wasn't as cruel as Punch, for he had never killed a cub. He had + cuffed them soundly whenever they had dared to come within reach of him, + but always with the flat, soft palm of his paw, and with just enough force + behind it to send them keeling over and over like little round fluffy + balls. +</p> +<p> + This was Thor's only expression of displeasure when a strange mother-bear + invaded his range with her cubs. In other ways he was quite chivalrous. He + would not drive the mother-bear and her cubs away, and he would not fight + with her, no matter how shrewish or unpleasant she was. Even if he found + them eating at one of his kills, he would do nothing more than give the + cubs a sound cuffing. +</p> +<p> + All this is somewhat necessary to show with what sudden and violent + agitation Thor caught a certain warm, close smell as he came around the end + of a mass of huge boulders. He stopped, turned his head, and swore in his + low, growling way. Six feet away from him, grovelling flat in a patch of + white sand, wriggling and shaking for all the world like a half-frightened + puppy that had not yet made up its mind whether it had met a friend or an + enemy, was a lone bear cub. It was not more than three months + old—altogether too young to be away from its mother; and it had a sharp + little tan face and a white spot on its baby breast which marked it as a + member of the black bear family, and not a grizzly. +</p> +<p> + The cub was trying as hard as it could to say, "I am lost, strayed, or + stolen; I'm hungry, and I've got a porcupine quill in my foot," but in + spite of that, with another ominous growl, Thor began to look about the + rocks for the mother. She was not in sight, and neither could he smell her, + two facts which turned his great head again toward the cub. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa—an Indian would have called the cub that—had crawled a foot or two + nearer on his little belly. He greeted Thor's second inspection with a + genial wriggling which carried him forward another half foot, and a low + warning rumbled in Thor's chest. "Don't come any nearer," it said plainly + enough, "or I'll keel you over!" +</p> +<p> + Muskwa understood. He lay as if dead, his nose and paws and belly flat on + the sand, and Thor looked about him again. When his eyes returned to + Muskwa, the cub was within three feet of him, squirming flat in the sand + and whimpering softly. Thor lifted his right paw four inches from the + ground. "Another inch and I'll give you a welt!" he growled. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa wriggled and trembled; he licked his lips with his tiny red tongue, + half in fear and half pleading for mercy, and in spite of Thor's lifted paw + he wormed his way another six inches nearer. +</p> +<p> + There was a sort of rattle instead of a growl in Thor's throat. His heavy + hand fell to the sand. A third time he looked about and sniffed the air; he + growled again. Any crusty old bachelor would have understood that growl. + "Now where the devil is the kid's mother!" it said. +</p> +<p> + Something happened then. Muskwa had crept close to Thor's wounded leg. He + rose up, and his nose caught the scent of the raw wound. Gently his tongue + touched it. It was like velvet—that tongue. It was wonderfully pleasant to + feel, and Thor stood there for many moments, making neither movement nor + sound while the cub licked his wound. Then he lowered his great head. He + sniffed the soft little ball of friendship that had come to him. Muskwa + whined in a motherless way. Thor growled, but more softly now. It was no + longer a threat. The heat of his great tongue fell once on the cub's face. +</p> +<p> + "Come on!" he said, and resumed his journey into the north. +</p> +<p> + And close at his heels followed the motherless little tan-faced cub. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH6">CHAPTER SIX</a></h3> +<p> + The creek which Thor was following was a tributary of the Babine, and he + was headed pretty nearly straight for the Skeena. As he was travelling + upstream the country was becoming higher and rougher. He had come perhaps + seven or eight miles from the summit of the divide when he found Muskwa. + From this point the slopes began to assume a different aspect. They were + cut up by dark, narrow gullies, and broken by enormous masses of rocks, + jagged cuffs, and steep slides of shale. The creek became noisier and more + difficult to follow. +</p> +<p> + Thor was now entering one of his strongholds: a region which contained a + thousand hiding-places, if he had wanted to hide; a wild, uptorn country + where it was not difficult for him to kill big game, and where he was + certain that the man-smell would not follow him. +</p> +<p> + For half an hour after leaving the mass of rocks where he had encountered + Muskwa, Thor lumbered on as if utterly oblivious of the fact that the cub + was following. But he could hear him and smell him. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa was having a hard time of it. His fat little body and his fat little + legs were unaccustomed to this sort of journeying, but he was a game + youngster, and only twice did he whimper in that half-hour—once he toppled + off a rock into the edge of the creek, and again when he came down too hard + on the porcupine quill in his foot. +</p> +<p> + At last Thor abandoned the creek and turned up a deep ravine, which he + followed until he came to a dip, or plateau-like plain, halfway up a broad + slope. Here he found a rock on the sunny side of a grassy knoll, and + stopped. It may be that little Muskwa's babyish friendship, the caress of + his soft little red tongue at just the psychological moment, and his + perseverance in following Thor had all combined to touch a responsive chord + in the other's big brute heart, for after nosing about restlessly for a few + moments Thor stretched himself out beside the rock. Not until then did the + utterly exhausted little tan-faced cub lie down, but when he did lie down + he was so dead tired that he was sound asleep in three minutes. +</p> +<p> + Twice again during the early part of the afternoon the <i>sapoos oowin</i> + worked on Thor, and he began to feel hungry. It was not the sort of hunger + to be appeased by ants and grubs, or even gophers and whistlers. It may be, + too, that he guessed how nearly starved little Muskwa was. The cub had not + once opened his eyes, and he still lay in his warm pool of sunshine when + Thor made up his mind to go on. +</p> +<p> + It was about three o'clock, a particularly quiet and drowsy part of a late + June or early July day in a northern mountain valley. The whistlers had + piped until they were tired, and lay squat out in the sunshine on their + rocks; the eagles soared so high above the peaks that they were mere dots; + the hawks, with meat-filled crops, had disappeared into the timber; goat + and sheep were lying down far up toward the sky-line, and if there were any + grazing animals near they were well fed and napping. +</p> +<p> + The mountain hunter knew that this was the hour when he should scan the + green slopes and the open places between the clumps of timber for bears, + and especially for flesh-eating bears. +</p> +<p> + It was Thor's chief prospecting hour. Instinct told him that when all + other creatures were well fed and napping he could move more openly and + with less fear of detection. He could find his game, and watch it. + Occasionally he would kill a goat or a sheep or a caribou in broad + daylight, for over short distances he could run faster than either a goat + or a sheep, and as fast as a caribou. But chiefly he killed at sunset or in + the darkness of early evening. +</p> +<p> + Thor rose from beside the rock with a prodigious whoof that roused Muskwa. + The cub got up, blinked at Thor and then at the sun, and shook himself + until he fell down. +</p> +<p> + Thor eyed the black and tan mite a bit sourly. After the <i>sapoos oowin</i> he + was craving red, juicy flesh, just as a very hungry man yearns for a thick + porterhouse instead of lady fingers or mayonnaise salad—flesh and plenty + of it; and how he could hunt down and kill a caribou with that half-starved + but very much interested cub at his heels puzzled him. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa himself seemed to understand and answer the question. He ran a dozen + yards ahead of Thor, then stopped and looked back impudently, his little + ears perked forward, and with the look in his face of a small boy proving + to his father that he is perfectly qualified to go on his first rabbit + hunt. +</p> +<p> + With another <i>whoof</i> Thor started along the slope in a spurt that brought + him up to Muskwa immediately, and with a sudden sweep of his right paw he + sent the cub rolling a dozen feet behind him, a manner of speech that said + plainly enough, "That's where you belong if you're going hunting with me!" +</p> +<p> + Then Thor lumbered slowly on, eyes and ears and nostrils keyed for the + hunt. He descended until he was not more than a hundred yards above the + creek, and he no longer sought out the easiest trail, but the rough and + broken places. He travelled slowly and in a zigzag fashion, stealing + cautiously around great masses of boulders, sniffing up each coulee that he + came to, and investigating the timber clumps and windfalls. +</p> +<p> + At one time he would be so high up that he was close to the bare shale, and + again so low down that he walked in the sand and gravel of the creek. He + caught many scents in the wind, but none that held or deeply interested + him. Once, up near the shale, he smelled goat; but he never went above the + shale for meat. Twice he smelled sheep, and late in the afternoon he saw a + big ram looking down on him from a precipitous crag a hundred feet above. +</p> +<p> + Lower down his nose touched the trails of porcupines, and often his head + hung over the footprints of caribou as he sniffed the air ahead. +</p> +<p> + There were other bears in the valley, too. Mostly these had travelled along + the creek-bottom, showing they were blacks or cinnamons. Once Thor struck + the scent of another grizzly, and he rumbled ill-humouredly. +</p> +<p> + Not once in the two hours after they left the sunrock did Thor pay any + apparent attention to Muskwa, who was growing hungrier and weaker as the + day lengthened. No boy that ever lived was gamer than the little tan-faced + cub. In the rough places he stumbled and fell frequently; up places that + Thor could make in a single step he had to fight desperately to make his + way; three times Thor waded through the creek and Muskwa half drowned + himself in following; he was battered and bruised and wet and his foot hurt + him—but he followed. Sometimes he was close to Thor, and at others he had + to run to catch up. The sun was setting when Thor at last found game, and + Muskwa was almost dead. +</p> +<p> + He did not know why Thor flattened his huge bulk suddenly alongside a rock + at the edge of a rough meadow, from which they could look down into a small + hollow. He wanted to whimper, but he was afraid. And if he had ever wanted + his mother at any time in his short life he wanted her now. He could not + understand why she had left him among the rocks and had never come back; + that tragedy Langdon and Bruce were to discover a little later. And he + could not understand why she did not come to him now. This was just about + his nursing hour before going to sleep for the night, for he was a March + cub, and, according to the most approved mother-bear regulations, should + have had milk for another month. +</p> +<p> + He was what Metoosin, the Indian, would have called <i>munookow</i>—that is, he + was very soft. Being a bear, his birth had not been like that of other + animals. His mother, like all mother-bears in a cold country, had brought + him into life a long time before she had finished her winter nap in her + den. He had come while she was asleep. For a month or six weeks after + that, while he was still blind and naked, she had given him milk, while she + herself neither ate nor drank nor saw the light of day. At the end of those + six weeks she had gone forth with him from her den to seek the first + mouthful of sustenance for herself. Not more than another six weeks had + passed since then, and Muskwa weighed about twenty pounds—that is, he had + weighed twenty pounds, but he was emptier now than he had ever been in his + life, and probably weighed a little less. +</p> +<p> + Three hundred yards below Thor was a clump of balsams, a small thick patch + that grew close to the edge of the miniature lake whose water crept around + the farther end of the hollow. In that clump there was a caribou—perhaps + two or three. Thor knew that as surely as though he saw them. The + <i>wenipow</i>, or "lying down," smell of hoofed game was as different from the + <i>nechisoo</i>, or "grazing smell," to Thor as day from night. One hung + elusively in the air, like the faint and shifting breath of a passing + woman's scented dress and hair; the other came hot and heavy, close to the + earth, like the odour of a broken bottle of perfume. +</p> +<p> + Even Muskwa now caught the scent as he crept up close behind the big + grizzly and lay down. +</p> +<p> + For fully ten minutes Thor did not move. His eyes took in the hollow, the + edge of the lake, and the approach to the timber, and his nose gauged the + wind as accurately as the pointing of a compass. The reason he remained + quiet was that he was almost on the danger-line. In other words, the + mountains and the sudden dip had formed a "split wind" in the hollow, and + had Thor appeared fifty yards above where he now crouched, the keen-scented + caribou would have got full wind of him. +</p> +<p> + With his little ears cocked forward and a new gleam of understanding in his + eyes, Muskwa now looked upon his first lesson in game-stalking. Crouched so + low that he seemed to be travelling on his belly, Thor moved slowly and + noiselessly toward the creek, the huge ruff just forward of his shoulders + standing out like the stiffened spine of a dog's back. Muskwa followed. For + fully a hundred yards Thor continued his detour, and three times in that + hundred yards he paused to sniff in the direction of the timber. At last he + was satisfied. The wind was full in his face, and it was rich with promise. +</p> +<a name="image-2"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="illp062A.jpg" width="327" height="488" +alt="'Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, swung a little to one side, +and then without any apparent effort—still like a huge ball—he bounded +in and upward, and the short race was done.'"> +</p> +<p> + He began to advance, in a slinking, rolling, rock-shouldered motion, + taking shorter steps now, and with every muscle in his great body ready for + action. Within two minutes he reached the edge of the balsams, and there he + paused again. The crackling of underbrush came distinctly. The caribou were + up, but they were not alarmed. They were going forth to drink and graze. +</p> +<p> + Thor moved again, parallel to the sound. This brought him quickly to the + edge of the timber, and there he stood, concealed by foliage, but with the + lake and the short stretch of meadow in view. A big bull caribou came out + first. His horns were half grown, and in velvet. A two-year-old followed, + round and sleek and glistening like brown velvet in the sunset. For two + minutes the bull stood alert, eyes, ears, and nostrils seeking for + danger-signals; at his heels the younger animal nibbled less suspiciously + at the grass. Then lowering his head until his antlers swept back over his + shoulders the old bull started slowly toward the lake for his evening + drink. The two-year-old followed—and Thor came out softly from his + hiding-place. +</p> +<p> + For a single moment he seemed to gather himself—and then he started. + Fifty feet separated him from the caribou. He had covered half that + distance like a huge rolling ball when the animals heard him. They were off + like arrows sprung from the bow. But they were too late. It would have + taken a swift horse to beat Thor and he had already gained momentum. +</p> +<p> + Like the wind he bore down on the flank of the two-year-old, swung a little + to one side, and then without any apparent effort—still like a huge + ball—he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done. +</p> +<p> + His huge right arm swung over the two-year-old's shoulder, and as they went + down his left paw gripped the caribou's muzzle like a huge human hand. Thor + fell under, as he always planned to fall. He did not hug his victim to + death. Just once he doubled up one of his hind legs, and when it went back + the five knives it carried disembowelled the caribou. They not only + disembowelled him, but twisted and broke his ribs as though they were of + wood. Then Thor got up, looked around, and shook himself with a rumbling + growl which might have been either a growl of triumph or an invitation for + Muskwa to come to the feast. +</p> +<p> + If it was an invitation, the little tan-faced cab did not wait for a + second. For the first time he smelled and tasted the warm blood of meat. + And this smell and taste had come at the psychological moment in his life, + just as it had come in Thor's life years before. All grizzlies are not + killers of big game. In fact, very few of them are. Most of them are + chiefly vegetarians, with a meat diet of smaller animals, such as gophers, + whistling marmots, and porcupines. Now and then chance makes of a grizzly a + hunter of caribou, goat, sheep, deer, and even moose. Such was Thor. And + such, in days to come, would Muskwa be, even though he was a black and not + of the family Ursus Horribilis Ord. +</p> +<p> + For an hour the two feasted, not in the ravenous way of hungry dogs, but in + the slow and satisfying manner of gourmets. Muskwa, flat on his little + paunch, and almost between Thor's huge forearms, lapped up the blood and + snarled like a kitten as he ground tender flesh between his tiny teeth. + Thor, as in all his food-seeking, hunted first for the tidbits, though the + <i>sapoos oovin</i> had made him as empty as a room without furniture. He pulled + out the thin leafs of fat from about the kidneys and bowels, and munched + at yard-long strings of it, his eyes half closed. +</p> +<p> + The last of the sun faded away from the mountains, and darkness followed + swiftly after the twilight. It was dark when they finished, and little + Muskwa was as wide as he was long. +</p> +<p> + Thor was the greatest of nature's conservators. With him nothing went to + waste that was good to eat, and at the present moment if the old bull + caribou had deliberately walked within his reach Thor in all probability + would not have killed him. He had food, and his business was to store that + food where it would be safe. +</p> +<p> + He went back to the balsam thicket, but the gorged cub now made no effort + to follow him. He was vastly contented, and something told him that Thor + would not leave the meat. Ten minutes later Thor verified his judgment by + returning. In his huge jaws he caught the caribou at the back of the neck. + Then he swung himself partly sidewise and began dragging the carcass toward + the timber as a dog might have dragged a ten-pound slab of bacon. +</p> +<p> + The young bull probably weighed four hundred pounds. Had he weighed eight + hundred, or even a thousand, Thor would still have dragged him—but had + the carcass weighed that much he would have turned straight around and + <i>backed</i> with his load. +</p> +<p> + In the edge of the balsams Thor had already found a hollow in the ground. + He thrust the carcass into this hollow, and while Muskwa watched with a + great and growing interest, he proceeded to cover it over with dry needles, + sticks, a rotting tree butt, and a log. He did not rear himself up and + leave his "mark" on a tree as a warning to other bears. He simply nosed + round for a bit, and then went out of the timber. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa followed him now, and he had some trouble in properly navigating + himself under the handicap of his added weight. The stars were beginning to + fill the sky, and under these stars Thor struck straight up a steep and + rugged slope that led to the mountain-tops. Up and up he went, higher than + Muskwa had ever been. They crossed a patch of snow. And then they came to a + place where it seemed as if a volcano had disrupted the bowels of a + mountain. Man could hardly have travelled where Thor led Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + At last he stopped. He was on a narrow ledge, with a perpendicular wall of + rock at his back. Under him fell away the chaos of torn-up rock and shale. + Far below the valley lay a black and bottomless pit. +</p> +<p> + Thor lay down, and for the first time since his hurt in the other valley he + stretched out his head between his great arms, and heaved a deep and + restful sigh. Muskwa crept up close to him, so close that he was warmed by + Thor's body; and together they slept the deep and peaceful sleep of full + stomachs, while over them the stars grew brighter, and the moon came up to + flood the peaks and the valley in a golden splendour. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH7">CHAPTER SEVEN</a></h3> + <p> + Langdon and Bruce crossed the summit into the westward valley in the + afternoon of the day Thor left the clay wallow. It was two o'clock when + Bruce turned back for the three horses, leaving Langdon on a high ridge to + scour the surrounding country through his glasses. For two hours after the + packer returned with the outfit they followed slowly along the creek above + which the grizzly had travelled, and when they camped for the night they + were still two or three miles from the spot where Thor came upon Muskwa. + They had not yet found his tracks in the sand of the creek bottom. Yet + Bruce was confident. He knew that Thor had been following the crests of the + slopes. +</p> +<p> + "If you go back out of this country an' write about bears, don't make a + fool o' yo'rself like most of the writin' fellows, Jimmy," he said, as they + sat back to smoke their pipes after supper. "Two years ago I took a + natcherlist out for a month, an' he was so tickled he said 'e'd send me a + bunch o' books about bears an' wild things. He did! I read 'em. I laughed + at first, an' then I got mad an' made a fire of 'em. Bears is cur'ous. + There's a mighty lot of interestin' things to say about 'em without making + a fool o' yo'rself. There sure is!" +</p> +<p> + Langdon nodded. +</p> +<p> + "One has to hunt and kill and hunt and kill for years before he discovers + the real pleasure in big game stalking," he said slowly, looking into the + fire. "And when he comes down to that real pleasure, the part of it that + absorbs him heart and soul, he finds that after all the big thrill isn't in + killing, but in letting live. I want this grizzly, and I'm going to have + him. I won't leave the mountains until I kill him. But, on the other hand, + we could have killed two other bears to-day, and I didn't take a shot. I'm + learning the game, Bruce—I'm beginning to taste the real pleasure of + hunting. And when one hunts in the right way one learns facts. You needn't + worry. I'm going to put only facts in what I write." +</p> +<p> + Suddenly he turned and looked at Bruce. +</p> +<p> + "What were some of the 'fool things' you read in those books?" he asked. +</p> +<p> + Bruce blew out a cloud of smoke reflectively. +</p> +<p> + "What made me maddest," he said, "was what those writer fellows said about + bears havin' 'marks.' Good Lord, accordin' to what they said all a bear has + to do is stretch 'imself up, put a mark on a tree, and that country is + his'n until a bigger bear comes along an' licks 'im. In one book I remember + where a grizzly rolled a log up under a tree so he could stand on it an' + put his mark above another grizzly's mark. Think of that! +</p> +<p> + "No bear makes a mark that means anything. I've seen grizzlies bite hunks + out o' trees an' scratch 'em just as a cat might, an' in the summer when + they get itchy an' begin to lose their hair they stand up an' rub against + trees. They rub because they itch an' not because they're leavin' their + cards for other bears. Caribou an' moose an' deer do the same thing to get + the velvet off their horns. +</p> +<p> + "Them same writers think every grizzly has his own range, an' they + don't—not by a long shot they don't! I've seen eight full-grown grizzlies + feedin' on the same slide! You remember, two years ago, we shot four + grizzlies in a little valley that wasn't a mile long. Now an' then there's + a boss among grizzlies, like this fellow we're after, but even he ain't + got his range alone. I'll bet there's twenty other bears in these two + valleys! An' that natcherlist I had two years ago couldn't tell a grizzly's + track from a black bear's track, an so 'elp me if he knew what a cinnamon + was!" +</p> +<p> + He took his pipe from his mouth and spat truculently into the fire, and + Langdon knew that other things were coming. His richest hours were those + when the usually silent Bruce fell into these moods. +</p> +<p> + "A cinnamon!" he growled. "Think of that, Jimmy—he thought there were such + a thing as a cinnamon bear! An' when I told him there wasn't, an' that the + cinnamon bear you read about is a black or a grizzly of a cinnamon colour, + he laughed at me—an' there I was born an' brung up among bears! His eyes + fair popped when I told him about the colour o' bears, an' he thought I was + feedin' him rope. I figgered afterward mebby that was why he sent me the + books. He wanted to show me he was right. +</p> +<p> + "Jimmy, there ain't anything on earth that's got more colours than a bear! + I've seen black bears as white as snow, an' I've seen grizzlies almost as + black as a black bear. I've seen cinnamon black bears an' I've seen + cinnamon grizzlies, an' I've seen browns an' golds an' almost-yellows of + both kinds. They're as different in colour as they are in their natchurs + an' way of eatin'. +</p> +<p> + "I figger most natcherlists go out an' get acquainted with one grizzly, an' + then they write up all grizzlies accordin' to that one. That ain't fair to + the grizzlies, darned if it is! There wasn't one of them books that didn't + say the grizzly wasn't the fiercest, man-eatingest cuss alive. He + ain't—unless you corner 'im. He's as cur'ous as a kid, an' he's + good-natured if you don't bother 'im. Most of 'em are vegetarians, but some + of 'em ain't. I've seen grizzlies pull down goat an' sheep an' caribou, an' + I've seen other grizzlies feed on the same slides with them animals an' + never make a move toward them. They're cur'ous, Jimmy. There's lots you can + say about 'em without makin' a fool o' yourself!" +</p> +<p> + Bruce beat the ash out of his pipe as an emphasis to his final remark. As + he reloaded with fresh tobacco, Langdon said: +</p> +<p> + "You can make up your mind this big fellow we are after is a game-killer, + Bruce." +</p> +<p> + "You can't tell," replied Bruce. "Size don't always tell. I knew a grizzly + once that wasn't much bigger'n a dog, an' he was a game-killer. Hundreds of + animals are winter-killed in these mount'ins every year, an' when spring + comes the bears eat the carcasses; but old flesh don't make game-killers. + Sometimes it's born in a grizzly to be a killer, an' sometimes he becomes a + killer by chance. If he kills once, he'll kill again. +</p> +<p> + "Once I was on the side of a mount'in an' saw a goat walk straight into the + face of a grizzly. The bear wasn't going to make a move, but the goat was + so scared it ran plump into the old fellow, and he killed it. He acted + mighty surprised for ten minutes afterward, an' he sniffed an' nosed around + the warm carcass for half an hour before he tore it open. That was his + first taste of what you might call live game. I didn't kill him, an' I'm + sure from that day on he was a big-game hunter." +</p> +<p> + "I should think size would have something to do with it," argued Langdon. + "It seems to me that a bear which eats flesh would be bigger and stronger + than if he was a vegetarian." +</p> +<p> + "That's one o' the cur'ous things you want to write about," replied Bruce, + with one of his odd chuckles. "Why is it a bear gets so fat he can hardly + walk along in September when he don't feed on much else but berries an' + ants an' grubs? Would you get fat on wild currants? +</p> +<p> + "An' why does he grow so fast during the four or five months he's denned up + an' dead to the world without a mouthful to eat or drink? +</p> +<p> + "Why is it that for a month, an' sometimes two months, the mother gives her + cubs milk while she's still what you might call asleep? Her nap ain't much + more'n two-thirds over when the cubs are born. +</p> +<p> + "And why ain't them cubs bigger'n they are? That natcherlist laughed until + I thought he'd split when I told him a grizzly bear cub wasn't much + bigger'n a house-cat kitten when born!" +</p> +<p> + "He was one of the few fools who aren't willing to learn—and yet you + cannot blame him altogether," said Langdon. "Four or five years ago I + wouldn't have believed it, Bruce. I couldn't actually believe it until we + dug out those cubs up the Athabasca—one weighed eleven ounces and the + other nine. You remember?" +</p> +<p> + "An' they were a week old, Jimmy. An' the mother weighed eight hundred + pounds." +</p> +<p> + For a few moments they both puffed silently on their pipes. +</p> +<p> + "Almost—inconceivable," said Langdon then. "And yet it's true. And it + isn't a freak of nature, Bruce—it's simply a result of Nature's + far-sightedness. If the cubs were as large comparatively as a house-cat's + kittens the mother-bear could not sustain them during those weeks when she + eats and drinks nothing herself. There seems to be just one flaw in this + scheme: an ordinary black bear is only about half as large as a grizzly, + yet a black bear cub when born is much larger than a grizzly cub. Now why + the devil that should be—" +</p> +<p> + Bruce interrupted his friend with a good-natured laugh. +</p> +<p> + "That's easy—easy, Jimmy!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember last year when + we picked strawberries in the valley an' threw snowballs two hours later up + on the mountain? Higher you climb the colder it gets, don't it? Right + now—first day of July—you'd half freeze up on some of those peaks! A + grizzly dens high, Jimmy, and a black bear dens low. When the snow is four + feet deep up where the grizzly dens, the black bear can still feed in the + deep valleys an' thick timber. He goes to bed mebby a week or two weeks + later than the grizzly, an' he gets up in the spring a week or two weeks + earlier; he's fatter when he dens up an' he ain't so poor when he comes + out—an' so the mother's got more strength to give to her cubs. It looks + that way to me." +</p> +<p> + "You've hit the nail on the head as sure as you're a year old!" cried + Langdon enthusiastically. "Bruce, I never thought of that!" +</p> +<p> + "There's a good many things you don't think about until you run across + 'em," said the mountaineer. "It's what you said a while ago—such things + are what makes huntin' a fine sport when you've learned huntin' ain't + always killin'—but lettin' live. One day I lay seven hours on a + mountain-top watchin' a band o' sheep at play, an' I had more fun than if + I'd killed the whole bunch." +</p> +<p> + Bruce rose to his feet and stretched himself, an after-supper operation + that always preceded his announcement that he was going to turn in. +</p> +<p> + "Fine day to-morrow," he said, yawning. "Look how white the snow is on the + peaks." +</p> +<p> + "Bruce—" +</p> +<p> + "What?" +</p> +<p> + "How heavy is this bear we're after?" +</p> +<p> + "Twelve hundred pounds—mebby a little more. I didn't have the pleasure of + lookin' at him so close as you did, Jimmy. If I had we'd been dryin' his + skin now!" +</p> +<p> + "And he's in his prime?" +</p> +<p> + "Between eight and twelve years old, I'd say, by the way he went up the + slope. An old bear don't roll so easy." +</p> +<p> + "You've run across some pretty old bears, Bruce?" +</p> +<p> + "So old some of 'em needed crutches," said Bruce, unlacing his boots. "I've + shot bears so old they'd lost their teeth." +</p> +<p> + "How old?" +</p> +<p> + "Thirty—thirty-five—mebby forty years. Good-night, Jimmy!" +</p> +<p> + "Good-night, Bruce!" +</p> +<p> + Langdon was awakened some time hours later by a deluge of rain that brought + him out of his blankets with a yell to Bruce. They had not put up their + tepee, and a moment later he heard Bruce anathematizing their idiocy. The + night was as black as a cavern, except when it was broken by lurid flashes + of lightning, and the mountains rolled and rumbled with deep thunder. + Disentangling himself from his drenched blanket, Langdon stood up. A glare + of lightning revealed Bruce sitting in his blankets, his hair dripping down + over his long, lean face, and at sight of him Langdon laughed outright. +</p> +<a name="image-3"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="illp078A.jpg" width="307" height="524" +alt="'They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look at +every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter of a mile +when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation and stopped.'"> +</p> +<p> + "Fine day to-morrow," he taunted, repeating Bruce's words of a few hours + before. "Look how white the snow is on the peaks!" +</p> +<p> + Whatever Bruce said was drowned in a crash of thunder. +</p> +<p> + Langdon waited for another lightning flash and then dove for the shelter of + a thick balsam. Under this he crouched for five or ten minutes, when the + rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The thunder rolled southward, and + the lightning went with it. In the darkness he heard Bruce fumbling + somewhere near. Then a match was lighted, and he saw his comrade looking at + his watch. +</p> +<p> + "Pretty near three o'clock," he said. "Nice shower, wasn't it?" +</p> +<p> + "I rather expected it," replied Langdon carelessly. "You know, Bruce, + whenever the snow on the peaks is so white—" +</p> +<p> + "Shut up—an' let's get a fire! Good thing we had sense enough to cover our + grub with the blankets. Are yo' wet?" +</p> +<p> + Langdon was wringing the water from his hair. He felt like a drowned rat. +</p> +<p> + "No. I was under a thick balsam, and prepared for it. When you called my + attention to the whiteness of the snow on the peaks I knew—" +</p> +<p> + "Forget the snow," growled Bruce, and Langdon could hear him breaking off + dry pitch-filled twigs under a spruce. +</p> +<p> + He went to help him, and five minutes later they had a fire going. The + light illumined their faces, and each saw that the other was not unhappy. + Bruce was grinning under his sodden hair. +</p> +<p> + "I was dead asleep when it came," he explained. "An' I thought I'd fallen + in a lake. I woke up tryin' to swim." +</p> +<p> + An early July rain at three o'clock in the morning in the northern British + Columbia mountains is not as warm as it might be, and for the greater part + of an hour Langdon and Bruce continued to gather fuel and dry their + blankets and clothing. It was five o'clock before they had breakfast, and a + little after six when they started with their two saddles and single pack + up the valley. Bruce had the satisfaction of reminding Langdon that his + prediction had come true for a glorious day followed the thunder shower. +</p> +<p> + Under them the meadows were dripping. The valley purred louder with the + music of the swollen streamlets. From the mountain-tops a half of last + night's snow was gone, and to Langdon the flowers seemed taller and more + beautiful. The air that drifted through the valley was laden with the + sweetness and freshness of the morning, and over and through it all the sun + shone in a warm and golden sea. +</p> +<p> + They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look at + every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter of + a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation, and stopped. He pointed to a + round patch of sand in which Thor had left one of his huge footprints. + Langdon dismounted and measured it. +</p> +<p> + "It's he!" he cried, and there was a thrill of excitement in his voice. + "Hadn't we better go on without the horses, Bruce?" +</p> +<p> + The mountaineer shook his head. But before he voiced an opinion he got down + from his horse and scanned the sides of the mountains ahead of them through + his long telescope. Langdon used his double-barrelled hunting glass. They + discovered nothing. +</p> +<p> + "He's still in the creek-bottom, an' he's probably three or four miles + ahead," said Bruce. "We'll ride on a couple o' miles an' find a place good + for the horses. The grass an' bushes will be dry then." +</p> +<p> + It was easy to follow Thor's course after this, for he had hung close to + the creek. Within three or four hundred yards of the great mass of boulders + where the grizzly had come upon the tan-faced cub was a small copse of + spruce in the heart of a grassy dip, and here the hunters stripped and + hobbled their horses. Twenty minutes later they had come up cautiously to + the soft carpet of sand where Thor and Muskwa had become acquainted. The + heavy rain had obliterated the cub's tiny footprints, but the sand was cut + up by the grizzly's tracks. The packer's teeth gleamed as he looked at + Langdon. +</p> +<p> + "He ain't very far," he whispered. "Shouldn't wonder if he spent the night + pretty close an' he's mooshing on just ahead of us." +</p> +<p> + He wet a finger and held it above his head to get the wind. He nodded + significantly. +</p> +<p> + "We'd better get up on the slopes," he said. +</p> +<p> + They made their way around the end of the boulders, holding their guns in + readiness, and headed for a small coulee that promised an easy ascent of + the first slope. At the mouth of this both paused again. Its bottom was + covered with sand, and in this sand were the tracks of another bear. Bruce + dropped on his knees. +</p> +<p> + "It's another grizzly," said Langdon. +</p> +<p> + "No, it ain't; it's a black," said Bruce. "Jimmy, can't I ever knock into + yo'r head the difference between a black an' a grizzly track? This is the + hind foot, an' the heel is round. If it was a grizzly it would be pointed. + An' it's too broad an' clubby f'r a grizzly, an' the claws are too long f'r + the length of the foot. It's a black as plain as the nose on yo'r face!" +</p> +<p> + "And going our way," said Langdon. "Come on!" Two hundred yards up the + coulee the bear had climbed out on the slope. Langdon and Bruce followed. + In the thick grass and hard shale of the first crest of the slope the + tracks were quickly lost, but the hunters were not much interested in these + tracks now. From the height at which they were travelling they had a + splendid view below them. +</p> +<p> + Not once did Bruce take his eyes from the creek bottom. He knew that it was + down there they would find the grizzly, and he was interested in nothing + else just at present. Langdon, on the other hand, was interested in + everything that might be living or moving about them; every mass of rock + and thicket of thorn held possibilities for him, and his eyes were questing + the higher ridges and the peaks as well as their immediate trail. It was + because of this that he saw something which made him suddenly grip his + companion's arm and pull him down beside him on the ground. +</p> +<p> + "Look!" he whispered, stretching out an arm. +</p> +<p> + From his kneeling posture Bruce stared. His eyes fairly popped in + amazement. Not more than thirty feet above them was a big rock shaped like + a dry-goods box, and protruding from behind the farther side of this rock + was the rear half of a bear. It was a black bear, its glossy coat shining + in the sunlight. For a full half minute Bruce continued to stare. Then he + grinned. +</p> +<p> + "Asleep—dead asleep! Jimmy—you want to see some fun?" +</p> +<p> + He put down his gun and drew out his long hunting knife. He chuckled softly + as he felt of its keen point. +</p> +<p> + "If you never saw a bear run yo'r goin' to see one run now, Jimmy! You stay + here!" +</p> +<p> + He began crawling slowly and quietly up the slope toward the rock, while + Langdon held his breath in anticipation of what was about to happen. Twice + Bruce looked back, and he was grinning broadly. There was undoubtedly going + to be a very much astonished bear racing for the tops of the Rocky + Mountains in another moment or two, and between this thought and the + picture of Bruce's long lank figure snaking its way upward foot by foot the + humour of the situation fell upon Langdon. Finally Bruce reached the rock. + The long knife-blade gleamed in the sun; then it shot forward and a half + inch of steel buried itself in the bear's rump. What followed in the next + thirty seconds Langdon would never forget. The bear made no movement. Bruce + jabbed again. Still there was no movement, and at the second thrust Bruce + remained as motionless as the rock against which he was crouching, and his + mouth was wide open as he stared down at Langdon. +</p> +<p> + "Now what the devil do you think of that?" he said, and rose slowly to his + feet. "He ain't asleep—he's dead!" +</p> +<p> + Langdon ran up to him, and they went around the end of the rock. Bruce + still held the knife in his hand and there was an odd expression in his + face—a look that put troubled furrows between his eyes as he stood for a + moment without speaking. +</p> +<p> + "I never see anything like that before," he said, slowly slipping his knife + in its sheath. "It's a she-bear, an' she had cubs—pretty young cubs, too, + from the looks o' her.' +</p> +<p> + "She was after a whistler, and undermined the rock," added Langdon. + "Crushed to death, eh, Bruce?" +</p> +<p> + Bruce nodded. +</p> +<p> + "I never see anything like it before," he repeated. "I've wondered why they + didn't get killed by diggin' under the rocks—but I never see it. Wonder + where the cubs are? Poor little devils!" +</p> +<p> + He was on his knees examining the dead mother's teats. +</p> +<p> + "She didn't have more'n two—mebby one," he said, rising. "About three + months old." +</p> +<p> + "And they'll starve?" +</p> +<p> + "If there was only one he probably will. The little cuss had so much milk + he didn't have to forage for himself. Cubs is a good deal like babies—you + can wean 'em early or you can ha'f grow 'em on pap. An' this is what comes + of runnin' off an' leavin' your babies alone," moralized Bruce. "If you + ever git married, Jimmy, don't you let yo'r wife do it. Sometimes th' + babies burn up or break their necks!" +</p> +<p> + Again he turned along the crest of the slope, his eyes once more searching + the valley, and Langdon followed a step behind him, wondering what had + become of the cub. +</p> +<p> + And Muskwa, still slumbering on the rock-ledge with Thor, was dreaming of + the mother who lay crushed under the rock on the slope, and as he dreamed + he whimpered softly. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH8">CHAPTER EIGHT</a></h3> +<p> + The ledge where Thor and Muskwa lay caught the first gleams of the morning + sun, and as the sun rose higher the ledge grew warmer and warmer, and Thor, + when he awoke, merely stretched himself and made no effort to rise. After + his wounds and the <i>sapoos oowin</i> and the feast in the valley he was + feeling tremendously fine and comfortable, and he was in no very great + haste to leave this golden pool of sunlight. For a long time he looked + steadily and curiously at Muskwa. In the chill of the night the little cub + had snuggled up close between the warmth of Thor's huge forearms, and still + lay there, whimpering in his babyish way as he dreamed. +</p> +<p> + After a time Thor did something that he had never been guilty of before—he + sniffed gently at the soft little ball between his paws, and just once his + big flat red tongue touched the cub's face; and Muskwa, perhaps still + dreaming of his mother, snuggled closer. As little white children have won + the hearts of savages who were about to slay them, so Muskwa had come + strangely into the life of Thor. +</p> +<p> + The big grizzly was still puzzled. Not only was he struggling against an + unaccountable dislike of all cubs in general, but also against the firmly + established habits of ten years of aloneness. Yet he was beginning to + comprehend that there was something very pleasant and companionable in the + nearness of Muskwa. With the coming of man a new emotion had entered into + his being—perhaps only the spark of an emotion. Until one has enemies, and + faces dangers, one cannot fully appreciate friendship—and it may be that + Thor, who now confronted real enemies and a real danger for the first time, + was beginning to understand what friendship meant. Also it was drawing near + to his mating season, and about Muskwa was the scent of his mother. And so + as Muskwa continued to bask and dream in the sunshine, there was a growing + content in Thor. +</p> +<p> + He looked down into the valley, shimmering in the wet of the night's rain, + and he saw nothing to rouse discontent; he sniffed the air, and it was + filled with the unpolluted sweetness of growing grass, of flowers, and + balsam, and water fresh from the clouds. +</p> +<p> + Thor began to lick his wound, and it was this movement that roused Muskwa. + The cub lifted his head. He blinked at the sun for a moment—then rubbed + his face sleepily with his tiny paw and stood up. Like all youngsters, he + was ready for another day, in spite of the hardships and toil of the + preceding one. +</p> +<p> + While Thor still lay restfully looking down into the valley, Muskwa began + investigating the crevices in the rock wall, and tumbled about among the + boulders on the ledge. +</p> +<p> + From the valley Thor turned his eyes to the cub. There was curiosity in his + attitude as he watched Muskwa's antics and queer tumblings among the rocks. + Then he rose cumbrously and shook himself. +</p> +<p> + For at least five minutes he stood looking down into the valley, and + sniffing the wind, as motionless as though carven out of rock. And Muskwa, + perking up his little ears, came and stood beside him, his sharp little + eyes peering from Thor off into sunlit space, and then back to Thor again, + as if wondering what was about to happen next. +</p> +<p> + The big grizzly answered the question. He turned along the rock shelf and + began descending into the valley. Muskwa tagged behind, just as he had + followed the day before. The cub felt twice as big and fully twice as + strong as yesterday, and he no longer was obsessed by that uncomfortable + yearning for his mother's milk. Thor had graduated him quickly, and he was + a meat-eater. And he knew they were returning to where they had feasted + last night. +</p> +<p> + They had descended half the distance of the slope when the wind brought + something to Thor. A deep-chested growl rolled out of him as he stopped for + a moment, the thick ruff about his neck bristling ominously. The scent he + had caught came from the direction of his cache, and it was an odour which + he was not in a humour to tolerate in this particular locality. Strongly he + smelled the presence of another bear. This would not have excited him under + ordinary conditions, and it would not have excited him now had the presence + been that of a female bear. But the scent was that of a he-bear, and it + drifted strongly up a rock-cut ravine that ran straight down toward the + balsam patch in which he had hidden the caribou. +</p> +<p> + Thor stopped to ask himself no questions. Growling under his breath, he + began to descend so swiftly that Muskwa had great difficulty in keeping up + with him. Not until they came to the edge of the plain that overlooked the + lake and the balsams did they stop. Muskwa's little jaws hung open as he + panted. Then his ears pricked forward, he stared, and suddenly every muscle + in his small body became rigid. +</p> +<p> + Seventy-five yards below them their cache was being outraged. The robber + was a huge black bear. He was a splendid outlaw. He was, perhaps, three + hundred pounds lighter than Thor, but he stood almost as high, and in the + sunlight his coat shone with the velvety gloss of sable—the biggest and + boldest bear that had entered Thor's domain in many a day. He had pulled + the caribou carcass from its hiding-place and was eating as Thor and Muskwa + looked down on him. +</p> +<p> + After a moment Muskwa peered up questioningly at Thor. "What are we going + to do?" he seemed to ask. "He's got our dinner!" +</p> +<p> + Slowly and very deliberately Thor began picking his way down those last + seventy-five yards. He seemed to be in no hurry bow. +</p> +<p> + When he reached the edge of the meadow, perhaps thirty or forty yards from + the big invader, he stopped again. There was nothing particularly ugly in + his attitude, but the ruff about his shoulders was bigger than Muskwa had + ever seen it before. +</p> +<p> + The black looked up from his feast, and for a full half minute they eyed + each other. In a slow, pendulum-like motion the grizzly's huge head swung + from side to side; the black was as motionless as a sphinx. +</p> +<p> + Four or five feet from Thor stood Muskwa. In a small-boyish sort of way he + knew that something was going to happen soon, and in that same small-boyish + way he was ready to put his stub of a tail between his legs and flee with + Thor, or advance and fight with him. His eyes were curiously attracted by + that pendulum-like swing of Thor's head. All nature understood that swing. + Man had learned to understand it. "Look out when a grizzly rolls his head!" + is the first commandment of the bear-hunter in the mountains. +</p> +<p> + The big black understood, and like other bears in Thor's domain, he should + have slunk a little backward, turned about and made his exit. Thor gave + him ample time. But the black was a new bear in the valley—and he was not + only that: he was a powerful bear, and unwhipped; and he had overlorded a + range of his own. He stood his ground. +</p> +<p> + The first growl of menace that passed between the two came from the black. +</p> +<p> + Again Thor advanced, slowly and deliberately—straight for the robber. + Muskwa followed halfway and then stopped and squatted himself on his belly. + Ten feet from the carcass Thor paused again; and now his huge head swung + more swiftly back and forth, and a low rumbling thunder came from between + his half-open jaws. The black's ivory fangs snarled; Muskwa whined. +</p> +<p> + Again Thor advanced, a foot at a time, and now his gaping jaws almost + touched the ground, and his huge body was hunched low. +</p> +<p> + When no more than the length of a yardstick separated them there came a + pause. For perhaps thirty seconds they were like two angry men, each trying + to strike terror to the other's heart by the steadiness of his look. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa shook as if with the ague, and whined—softly and steadily he + whined, and the whine reached Thor's ears. What happened after that began + so quickly that Muskwa was struck dumb with terror, and he lay flattened + out on the earth as motionless as a stone. +</p> +<p> + With that grinding, snarling grizzly roar, which is unlike any other animal + cry in the world, Thor flung himself at the black. The black reared a + little—just enough to fling himself backward easily as they came together + breast to breast. He rolled upon his back, but Thor was too old a fighter + to be caught by that first vicious ripping stroke of the black's hind foot, + and he buried his four long flesh-rending teeth to the bone of his enemy's + shoulder. At the same time he struck a terrific cutting stroke with his + left paw. +</p> +<p> + Thor was a digger, and his claws were dulled; the black was not a digger, + but a tree-climber, and his claws were like knives. And like knives they + buried themselves in Thor's wounded shoulder, and the blood spurted forth + afresh. +</p> +<p> + With a roar that seemed to set the earth trembling, the huge grizzly lunged + backward and reared himself to his full nine feet. He had given the black + warning. Even after their first tussle his enemy might have retreated and + he would not have pursued. Now it was a fight to the death! The black had + done more than ravage his cache. He had opened the man-wound! +</p> +<p> + A minute before Thor had been fighting for law and right—without great + animosity or serious desire to kill. Now, however, he was terrible. His + mouth was open, and it was eight inches from jaw to jaw; his lips were + drawn up until his white teeth and his red gums were bared; muscles stood + out like cords on his nostrils, and between his eyes was a furrow like the + cleft made by an axe in the trunk of a pine. His eyes shone with the glare + of red garnets, their greenish-black pupils almost obliterated by the + ferocious fire that was in them. Man, facing Thor in this moment, would + have known that only one would come out alive. +</p> +<p> + Thor was not a "stand-up" fighter. For perhaps six or seven seconds he + remained erect, but as the black advanced a step he dropped quickly to all + fours. +</p> +<p> + The black met him halfway, and after this—for many minutes—Muskwa hugged + closer and closer to the earth while with gleaming eyes he watched the + battle. It was such a fight as only the jungles and the mountains see, and + the roar of it drifted up and down the valley. +</p> +<p> + Like human creatures the two giant beasts used their powerful forearms + while with fangs and hind feet they ripped and tore. For two minutes they + were in a close and deadly embrace, both rolling on the ground, now one + under and then the other. The black clawed ferociously; Thor used chiefly + his teeth and his terrible right hind foot. With his forearms he made no + effort to rend the black, but used them to hold and throw his enemy. He was + fighting to get <i>under</i>, as he had flung himself under the caribou he had + disembowelled. +</p> +<p> + Again and again Thor buried his long fangs in the other's flesh; but in + fang-fighting the black was even quicker than he, and his right shoulder + was being literally torn to pieces when their jaws met in midair. Muskwa + heard the clash of them; he heard the grind of teeth on teeth, the + sickening crunch of bone. +</p> +<p> + Then suddenly the black was flung upon his side as though his neck had been + broken, and Thor was at his throat. Still the black fought, his gaping and + bleeding jaws powerless now as the grizzly closed his own huge jaws on the + jugular. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa stood up. He was shivering still, but with a new and strange + emotion. This was not play, as he and his mother had played. For the first + time he was looking upon <i>battle</i>, and the thrill of it sent the blood hot + and fast through his little body. With a faint, puppyish snarl he darted + in. His teeth sank futilely into the thick hair and tough hide of the + black's rump. He pulled and he snarled; he braced himself with his forefeet + and tugged at his mouthful of hair, filled with a blind and unaccountable + rage. +</p> +<p> + The black twisted himself upon his back, and one of his hind feet raked + Thor from chest to vent. That stroke would have disembowelled a caribou or + a deer; it left a red, open, bleeding wound three feet long on Thor. +</p> +<p> + Before it could be repeated, the grizzly swung himself sidewise, and the + second blow caught Muskwa. The flat of the black's foot struck him, and for + twenty feet he was sent like a stone out of a sling-shot. He was not cut, + but he was stunned. +</p> +<p> + In that same moment Thor released his hold on his enemy's throat, and + swung two or three feet to one side. He was dripping blood. The black's + shoulders, chest, and neck were saturated with it; huge chunks had been + torn from his body. He made an effort to rise, and Thor was on him again. +</p> +<p> + This time Thor got his deadliest of all holds. His great jaws clamped in a + death-grip over the upper part of the black's nose. One terrific grinding + crunch, and the fight was over. The black could not have lived after that. + But this fact Thor did not know. It was now easy for him to rip with those + knifelike claws on his hind feet. He continued to maul and tear for ten + minutes after the black was dead. +</p> +<p> + When Thor finally quit the scene of battle was terrible to look upon. The + ground was torn up and red; it was covered with great strips of black hide + and pieces of flesh; and the black, on the under side, was torn open from + end to end. +</p> +<p> + Two miles away, tense and white and scarcely breathing as they looked + through their glasses, Langdon and Bruce crouched beside a rock on the + mountainside. At that distance they had witnessed the terrific spectacle, + but they could not see the cub. As Thor stood panting and bleeding over + his lifeless enemy, Langdon lowered his glass. +</p> +<p> + "My God!" he breathed. +</p> +<p> + Bruce sprang to his feet. +</p> +<p> + "Come on!" he cried. "The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our + grizzly!" +</p> +<p> + And down in the meadow Muskwa ran to Thor with a bit of warm black hide in + his mouth, and Thor lowered his great bleeding head, and just once his red + tongue shot out and caressed Muskwa's face. For the little tan-faced cub + had proved himself; and it may be that Thor had seen and understood. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH9">CHAPTER NINE</a></h3> +<p> + Neither Thor nor Muskwa went near the caribou meat after the big fight. + Thor was in no condition to eat, and Muskwa was so filled with excitement + and trembling that he could not swallow a mouthful. He continued to worry a + strip of black hide, snarling and growling in his puny way, as though + finishing what the other had begun. +</p> +<p> + For many minutes the grizzly stood with his big head drooping, and the + blood gathered in splashes under him. He was facing down the valley. There + was almost no wind—so little that it was scarcely possible to tell from + which direction it came. Eddies of it were caught in the coulees, and + higher up about the shoulders and peaks it blew stronger. Now and then one + of these higher movements of air would sweep gently downward and flow + through the valley for a few moments in a great noiseless breath that + barely stirred the tops of the balsams and spruce. +</p> +<p> + One of these mountain-breaths came as Thor faced the east. And with it, + faint and terrible, came the <i>man-smell</i>! +</p> +<p> + Thor roused himself with a sudden growl from the lethargy into which he had + momentarily allowed himself to sink. His relaxed muscles hardened. He + raised his head and sniffed the wind. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa ceased his futile fight with the bit of hide and also sniffed the + air. It was warm with the man-scent, for Langdon and Bruce were running and + sweating, and the odour of man-sweat drifts heavy and far. It filled Thor + with a fresh rage. For a second time it came when he was hurt and bleeding. + He had already associated the man-smell with hurt, and now it was doubly + impressed upon him. He turned his head and snarled at the mutilated body of + the big black. Then he snarled menacingly in the face of the wind. He was + in no humour to run away. In these moments, if Bruce and Langdon had + appeared over the rise, Thor would have charged with that deadly ferocity + which lead can scarcely stop, and which has given to his kind their + terrible name. +</p> +<p> + But the breath of air passed, and there followed a peaceful calm. The + valley was filled with the purr of running water; from their rocks the + whistlers called forth their soft notes; up on the green plain the + ptarmigan were fluting, and rising in white-winged flocks. These things + soothed Thor, as a woman's gentle hand quiets an angry man. For five + minutes he continued to rumble and growl as he tried vainly to catch the + scent again; but the rumbling and growling grew steadily less, and finally + he turned and walked slowly toward the coulee down which he and Muskwa had + come a little while before. Muskwa followed. +</p> +<a name="image-4"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="illp102A.jpg" width="318" height="506" +alt="'Come on!' he cried. 'The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our grizzly!'"> +</p> +<p> + The coulee, or ravine, hid them from the valley as they ascended. Its + bottom was covered with rock and shale. The wounds Thor had received in the + fight, unlike bullet wounds, had stopped bleeding after the first few + minutes, and he left no telltale red spots behind. The ravine took them to + the first chaotic upheaval of rock halfway up the mountain, and here they + were still more lost to view from below. +</p> +<p> + They stopped and drank at a pool formed by the melting snow on the peaks, + and then went on. Thor did not stop when they reached the ledge on which + they had slept the previous night. And this time Muskwa was not tired when + they reached the ledge. Two days had made a big change in the little + tan-faced cub. He was not so round and puffy. And he was stronger—a great + deal stronger; he was becoming hardened, and under Thor's strenuous + tutelage he was swiftly graduating from cubhood to young bearhood. +</p> +<p> + It was evident that Thor had followed this ledge at some previous time. He + knew where he was going. It continued up and up, and finally seemed to end + in the face of a precipitous wall of rock. Thor's trail led him directly to + a great crevice, hardly wider than his body, and through this he went, + emerging at the edge of the wildest and roughest slide of rock that Muskwa + had ever seen. It looked like a huge quarry, and it broke through the + timber far below them, and reached almost to the top of the mountain above. +</p> +<p> + For Muskwa to make his way over the thousand pitfalls of that chaotic + upheaval was an impossibility, and as Thor began to climb over the first + rocks the cub stopped and whined. It was the first time he had given up, + and when he saw that Thor gave no attention to his whine, terror seized + upon him and he cried for help as loudly as he could while he hunted + frantically for a path up through the rocks. +</p> +<p> + Utterly oblivious of Muskwa's predicament, Thor continued until he was + fully thirty yards away. Then he stopped, faced about deliberately, and + waited. +</p> +<p> + This gave Muskwa courage, and he scratched and clawed and even used his + chin and teeth in his efforts to follow. It took him ten minutes to reach + Thor, and he was completely winded. Then, all at once, his terror vanished. + For Thor stood on a white, narrow path that was as solid as a floor. +</p> +<p> + The path was perhaps eighteen inches wide. It was unusual—and + mysterious-looking, and strangely out of place where it was. It looked as + though an army of workmen had come along with hammers and had broken up + tons of sandstone and slate, and then filled in between the boulders with + rubble, making a smooth and narrow road that in places was ground to the + fineness of powder and the hardness of cement. But instead of hammers, the + hoofs of a hundred or perhaps a thousand generations of mountain sheep had + made the trail. It was the sheep-path over the range. The first band of + bighorn may have blazed the way before Columbus discovered America; surely + it had taken a great many years for hoofs to make that smooth road among + the rocks. +</p> +<p> + Thor used the path as one of his highways from valley to valley, and there + were other creatures of the mountains who used it as well as he, and more + frequently. As he stood waiting for Muskwa to get his wind they both heard + an odd chuckling sound approaching them from above. Forty or fifty feet up + the slide the path twisted and descended a little depression behind a huge + boulder, and out from behind this boulder came a big porcupine. +</p> +<p> + There is a law throughout the North that a man shall not kill a porcupine. + He is the "lost man's friend," for the wandering and starving prospector or + hunter can nearly always find a porcupine, if nothing else; and a child can + kill him. He is the humourist of the wilderness—the happiest, the + best-natured, and altogether the mildest-mannered beast that ever drew + breath. He talks and chatters and chuckles incessantly, and when he travels + he walks like a huge animated pincushion; he is oblivious of everything + about him as though asleep. +</p> +<p> + As this particular "porky" advanced upon Muskwa and Thor, he was communing + happily with himself, the chuckling notes he made sounding very much like a + baby's cooing. He was enormously fat, and as he waddled slowly along his + side and tail quills clicked on the stones. His eyes were on the path at + his feet. He was deeply absorbed in nothing at all, and he was within five + feet of Thor before he saw the grizzly. Then, in a wink, he humped himself + into a ball. For a few seconds he scolded vociferously. After that he was + as silent as a sphinx, his little red eyes watching the big bear. +</p> +<p> + Thor did not want to kill him, but the path was narrow, and he was ready to + go on. He advanced a foot or two, and Porky turned his back toward Thor and + made ready to deliver a swipe with his powerful tail. In that tail were + several hundred quills. As Thor had more than once come into contact with + porcupine quills, he hesitated. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa was looking on curiously. He still had his lesson to learn, for the + quill he had once picked up in his foot had been a loose quill. But since + the porcupine seemed to puzzle Thor, the cub turned and made ready to go + back along the slide if it became necessary. Thor advanced another foot, + and with a sudden <i>chuck, chuck, chuck</i>—the most vicious sound he was + capable of making—Porky advanced backward and his broad, thick tail + whipped through the air with a force that would have driven quills a + quarter of an inch into the butt of a tree. Having missed, he humped + himself again, and Thor stepped out on the boulder and circled around him. + There he waited for Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + Porky was immensely satisfied with his triumph. He unlimbered himself; his + quills settled a bit; and he advanced toward Muskwa, at the same time + resuming his good-natured chuckling. Instinctively the cub hugged the edge + of the path, and in doing so slipped over the edge. By the time he had + scrambled up again Porky was four or five feet beyond him and totally + absorbed in his travel. +</p> +<p> + The adventure of the sheep-trail was not yet quite over, for scarcely had + Porky maneuvered himself to safety when around the edge of the big boulder + above appeared a badger, hot on the fresh and luscious scent of his + favourite dinner, a porcupine. This worthless outlaw of the mountains was + three times as large as Muskwa, and every ounce of him was fighting muscle + and bone and claw and sharp teeth. He had a white mark on his nose and + forehead; his legs were short and thick; his tail was bushy, and the claws + on his front feet were almost as long as a bear's. Thor greeted him with an + immediate growl of warning, and the badger scooted back up the trail in + fear of his life. +</p> +<p> + Meanwhile Porky lumbered slowly along in quest of new feeding-grounds, + talking and singing to himself, forgetting entirely what had happened a + minute or two before, and unconscious of the fact that Thor had saved him + from a death as certain as though he had fallen over a thousand-foot + precipice. +</p> +<p> + For nearly a mile Thor and Muskwa followed the Bighorn Highway before its + winding course brought them at last to the very top of the range. They were + fully three-quarters of a mile above the creek-bottom, and so narrow in + places was the crest of the mountain along which the sheep-trail led that + they could look down into both valleys. +</p> +<p> + To Muskwa it was all a greenish golden haze below him; the depths seemed + illimitable; the forest along the stream was only a black streak, and the + parklike clumps of balsams and cedars on the farther slopes looked like + very small bosks of thorn or buffalo willow. +</p> +<p> + Up here the wind was blowing, too. It whipped him with a strange + fierceness, and half a dozen times he felt the mysterious and very + unpleasant chill of snow under his feet. Twice a great bird swooped near + him. It was the biggest bird he had ever seen—an eagle. The second time it + came so near that he heard the <i>beat</i> of it, and saw its great, fierce head + and lowering talons. +</p> +<p> + Thor whirled toward the eagle and growled. If Muskwa had been alone, the + cub would have gone sailing off in those murderous talons. As it was, the + third time the eagle circled it was down the slope from them. It was after + other game. The scent of the game came to Thor and Muskwa, and they + stopped. +</p> +<p> + Perhaps a hundred yards below them was a shelving slide of soft shale, and + on this shale, basking in the warm sun after their morning's feed lower + down, was a band of sheep. There were twenty or thirty of them, mostly ewes + and their lambs. Three huge old rams were lying on a patch of snow farther + to the east. +</p> +<p> + With his six-foot wings spread out like twin fans, the eagle continued to + circle. He was as silent as a feather floating with the wind. The ewes and + even the old bighorns were unconscious of his presence over them. Most of + the lambs were lying close to their mothers, but two or three of a livelier + turn of mind were wandering over the shale and occasionally hopping about + in playful frolic. +</p> +<p> + The eagle's fierce eyes were upon these youngsters. Suddenly he drifted + farther away—a full rifle-shot distance straight in the face of the wind; + then he swung gracefully, and came back with the wind. And as he came, his + wings apparently motionless, he gathered greater and greater speed, and + shot like a rocket straight for the lambs. He seemed to have come and gone + like a great shadow, and just one plaintive, agonized bleat marked his + passing-and two little lambs were left where there had been three. +</p> +<p> + There was instant commotion on the slide. The ewes began to run back and + forth and bleat excitedly. The three rams sprang up and stood like rocks, + their huge battlemented heads held high as they scanned the depths below + them and the peaks above for new danger. +</p> +<p> + One of them saw Thor, and the deep, grating bleat of warning that rattled + out of his throat a hunter could have heard a mile away. As he gave his + danger signal he started down the slide, and in another moment an avalanche + of hoofs was clattering down the steep shale slope, loosening small stones + and boulders that went tumbling and crashing down the mountain with a din + that steadily increased as they set others in motion on the way. This was + all mighty interesting to Muskwa, and he would have stood for a long time + looking down for other things to happen if Thor had not led him on. +</p> +<p> + After a time the Bighorn Highway began to descend into the valley from the + upper end of which Thor had been driven by Langdon's first shots. They were + now six or eight miles north of the timber in which the hunters had made + their permanent camp, and headed for the lower tributaries of the Skeena. +</p> +<p> + Another hour of travel, and the bare shale and gray crags were above them + again, and they were on the green slopes. After the rocks, and the cold + winds, and the terrible glare he had seen in the eagle's eyes, the warm and + lovely valley into which they were descending lower and lower was a + paradise to Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + It was evident that Thor had something in his mind. He was not rambling + now. He cut off the ends and the bulges of the slopes. With his head + hunched low he travelled steadily northward, and a compass could not have + marked out a straighter line for the lower waters of the Skeena. He was + tremendously businesslike, and Muskwa, tagging bravely along behind, + wondered if he were never going to stop; if there could be anything in the + whole wide world finer for a big grizzly and a little tan-faced cub than + these wonderful sunlit slopes which Thor seemed in such great haste to + leave. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH10">CHAPTER TEN</a></h3> +<p> + If it had not been for Langdon, this day of the fight between the two bears + would have held still greater excitement and another and deadlier peril for + Thor and Muskwa. Three minutes after the hunters had arrived breathless and + sweating upon the scene of the sanguinary conflict Bruce was ready and + anxious to continue the pursuit of Thor. He knew the big grizzly could not + be far away; he was certain that Thor had gone up the mountain. He found + signs of the grizzly's feet in the gravel of the coulee at just about the + time Thor and the tan-faced cub struck the Bighorn Highway. +</p> +<p> + His arguments failed to move Langdon. Stirred to the depth of his soul by + what he had seen, and what he saw about him now, the hunter-naturalist + refused to leave the blood-stained and torn-up arena in which the grizzly + and the black had fought their duel. +</p> +<p> + "If I knew that I was not going to fire a single shot, I would travel five + thousand miles to see this," he said. "It's worth thinking about, and + looking over, Bruce. The grizzly won't spoil. This will—in a few hours. If + there's a story here we can dig out I want it." +</p> +<p> + Again and again Langdon went over the battlefield, noting the ripped-up + ground, the big spots of dark-red stain, the strips of flayed skin, and the + terrible wounds on the body of the dead black. For half an hour Bruce paid + less attention to these things than he did to the carcass of the caribou. + At the end of that time he called Langdon to the edge of the clump of + balsams. +</p> +<p> + "You wanted the story," he said, "an' I've got it for you, Jimmy." +</p> +<p> + He entered the balsams and Langdon followed him. A few steps under the + cover Bruce halted and pointed to the hollow in which Thor had cached his + meat. The hollow was stained with blood. +</p> +<p> + "You was right in your guess, Jimmy," he said. "Our grizzly is a + meat-eater. Last night he killed a caribou out there in the meadow. I know + it was the grizzly that killed 'im an' not the black, because the tracks + along the edge of the timber are grizzly tracks. Come on. I'll show you + where 'e jumped the caribou!" +</p> +<p> + He led the way back into the meadow, and pointed out where Thor had dragged + down the young bull. There were bits of flesh and a great deal of stain + where he and Muskwa had feasted. +</p> +<p> + "He hid the carcass in the balsams after he had filled himself," went on + Bruce. "This morning the black came along, smelled the meat, an' robbed the + cache. Then back come the grizzly after his morning feed, an' that's what + happened! There's yo'r story, Jimmy." +</p> +<p> + "And—he may come back again?" asked Langdon. +</p> +<p> + "Not on your life, he won't!" cried Bruce. "He wouldn't touch that carcass + ag'in if he was starving. Just now this place is like poison to him." +</p> +<p> + After that Bruce left Langdon to meditate alone on the field of battle + while he began trailing Thor. In the shade of the balsams Langdon wrote for + a steady hour, frequently rising to establish new facts or verify others + already discovered. Meanwhile the mountaineer made his way foot by foot up + the coulee. Thor had left no blood, but where others would have seen + nothing Bruce detected the signs of his passing. When he returned to where + Langdon was completing his notes, his face wore a look of satisfaction. +</p> +<p> + "He went over the mount'in," he said briefly. +</p> +<p> + It was noon before they climbed over the volcanic quarry of rock and + followed the Bighorn Highway to the point where Thor and Muskwa had watched + the eagle and the sheep. They ate their lunch here, and scanned the valley + through their glasses. Bruce was silent for a long time. Then he lowered + his telescope, and turned to Langdon. +</p> +<p> + "I guess I've got his range pretty well figgered out," he said. "He runs + these two valleys, an' we've got our camp too far south. See that timber + down there? That's where our camp should be. What do you say to goin' back + over the divide with our horses an' moving up here?" +</p> +<p> + "And leave our grizzly until to-morrow?" +</p> +<p> + Bruce nodded. +</p> +<p> + "We can't go after 'im and leave our horses tied up in the creek-bottom + back there." +</p> +<p> + Langdon boxed his glasses and rose to his feet. Suddenly he grew rigid. +</p> +<p> + "What was that?" +</p> +<p> + "I didn't hear anything," said Bruce. +</p> +<p> + For a moment they stood side by side, listening. A gust of wind whistled + about their ears. It died away. +</p> +<p> + "Hear it!" whispered Langdon, and his voice was filled with a sudden + excitement. +</p> +<p> + "The dogs!" cried Bruce. +</p> +<p> + "Yes, the dogs!" +</p> +<p> + They leaned forward, their ears turned to the south, and faintly there came + to them the distant, thrilling tongue of the Airedales! +</p> +<p> + Metoosin had come, and he was seeking them in the valley! +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH11">CHAPTER ELEVEN</a></h3> +<p> + Thor was on what the Indians call a <i>pimootao</i>. His brute mind had all at + once added two and two together, and while perhaps he did not make four of + it, his mental arithmetic was accurate enough to convince him that straight + north was the road to travel. +</p> +<p> + By the time Langdon and Bruce had reached the summit of the Bighorn + Highway, and were listening to the distant tongueing of the dogs, little + Muskwa was in abject despair. Following Thor had been like a game of tag + with never a moment's rest. +</p> +<p> + An hour after they left the sheep trail they came to the rise in the valley + where the waters separated. From this point one creek flowed southward into + the Tacla Lake country and the other northward into the Babine, which was a + tributary of the Skeena. They descended very quickly into a much lower + country, and for the first time Muskwa encountered marshland, and travelled + at times through grass so rank and thick that he could not see but could + only hear Thor forging on ahead of him. +</p> +<p> + The stream grew wider and deeper, and in places they skirted the edges of + dark, quiet pools that Muskwa thought must have been of immeasurable depth. + These pools gave Muskwa his first breathing-spells. Now and then Thor would + stop and sniff over the edge of them. He was hunting for something, and yet + he never seemed to find it; and each time that he started on afresh Muskwa + was so much nearer to the end of his endurance. +</p> +<p> + They were fully seven miles north of the point from which Bruce and Langdon + were scanning the valley through their glasses when they came to a lake. It + was a dark and unfriendly looking lake to Muskwa, who had never seen + anything but sunlit pools in the dips. The forest grew close down to its + shore. In places it was almost black. Queer birds squawked in the thick + reeds. It was heavy with a strange odour—a fragrance of something that + made the cub lick his little chops, and filled him with hunger. +</p> +<p> + For a minute or two Thor stood sniffing this scent that filled the air. It + was the smell of fish. +</p> +<p> + Slowly the big grizzly began picking his way along the edge of the lake. + He soon came to the mouth of a small creek. It was not more than twenty + feet wide, but it was dark and quiet and deep, like the lake itself. For a + hundred yards Thor made his way up this creek, until he came to where a + number of trees had fallen across it, forming a jam. Close to this jam the + water was covered with a green scum. Thor knew what lay under that scum, + and very quietly he crept out on the logs. +</p> +<p> + Midway in the stream he paused, and with his right paw gently brushed back + the scum so that an open pool of clear water lay directly under him. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa's bright little eyes watched him from the shore. He knew that Thor + was after something to eat, but how he was going to get it out of that pool + of water puzzled and interested him in spite of his weariness. +</p> +<p> + Thor stretched himself out on his belly, his head and right paw well over + the jam. He now put his paw a foot into the water and held it there very + quietly. He could see clearly to the bottom of the stream. For a few + moments he saw only this bottom, a few sticks, and the protruding end of a + limb. Then a long slim shadow moved slowly under him—a fifteen-inch + trout. It was too deep for him, and Thor did not make an excited plunge. +</p> +<p> + Patiently he waited, and very soon this patience was rewarded. A beautiful + red-spotted trout floated out from under the scum, and so suddenly that + Muskwa gave a yelp of terror, Thor's huge paw sent a shower of water a + dozen feet into the air, and the fish landed with a thump within three feet + of the cub. Instantly Muskwa was upon it. His sharp teeth dug into it as it + flopped and struggled. +</p> +<p> + Thor rose on the logs, but when he saw that Muskwa had taken possession of + the fish, he resumed his former position. Muskwa was just finishing his + first real kill when a second spout of water shot upward and another trout + pirouetted shoreward through the air. This time Thor followed quickly, for + he was hungry. +</p> +<p> + It was a glorious feast they had that early afternoon beside the shaded + creek. Five times Thor knocked fish out from under the scum, but for the + life of him Muskwa could not eat more than his first trout. +</p> +<p> + For several hours after their dinner they lay in a cool, hidden spot close + to the log-jam. Muskwa did not sleep soundly. He was beginning to + understand that life was now largely a matter of personal responsibility + with him, and his ears had begun to attune themselves to sound. Whenever + Thor moved or heaved a deep sigh, Muskwa knew it. After that day's Marathon + with the grizzly he was filled with uneasiness—a fear that he might lose + his big friend and food-killer, and he was determined that the parent he + had adopted should have no opportunity of slipping away from him unheard + and unseen. But Thor had no intention of deserting his little comrade. In + fact, he was becoming quite fond of Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + It was not alone his hunger for fish or fear of his enemies that was + bringing Thor into the lower country of the Babine waterways. For a week + past there had been in him a steadily growing unrest, and it had reached + its climax in these last two or three days of battle and flight. He was + filled with a strange and unsatisfied yearning, and as Muskwa napped in his + little bed among the bushes Thor's ears were keenly alert for certain + sounds and his nose frequently sniffed the air. He wanted a mate. It was + <i>puskoowepesim</i>—the "moulting moon"—and always in this moon, or the end + of the "egg-laying moon," which was June, he hunted for the female that + came to him from the western ranges. He was almost entirely a creature of + habit, and always he made this particular detour, entering the other valley + again far down toward the Babine. He never failed to feed on fish along the + way, and the more fish he ate the stronger was the odour of him. It is + barely possible Thor had discovered that this perfume of golden-spotted + trout made him more attractive to his lady-love. Anyway, he ate fish, and + he smelled abundantly. +</p> +<p> + Thor rose and stretched himself two hours before sunset, and he knocked + three more fish out of the water. Muskwa ate the head of one and Thor + finished the rest. Then they continued their pilgrimage. +</p> +<p> + It was a new world that Muskwa entered now. In it there were none of the + old familiar sounds. The purring drone of the upper valley was gone. There + were no whistlers, and no ptarmigan, and no fat little gophers running + about. The water of the lake lay still, and dark, and deep, with black and + sunless pools hiding themselves under the roots of trees, so close did the + forest cling to it. There were no rocks to climb over, but dank, soft logs, + thick windfalls, and litters of brush. The air was different, too. It was + very still. Under their feet at times was a wonderful carpet of soft moss + in which Thor sank nearly to his armpits. And the forest was filled with a + strange gloom and many mysterious shadows, and there hung heavily in it the + pungent smells of decaying vegetation. +</p> +<p> + Thor did not travel so swiftly here. The silence and the gloom and the + oppressively scented air seemed to rouse his caution. He stepped quietly; + frequently he stopped and looked about him, and listened; he smelled at the + edges of pools hidden under the roots; every new sound brought him to a + stop, his head hung low and his ears alert. +</p> +<p> + Several times Muskwa saw shadowy things floating through the gloom. They + were the big gray owls that turned snow white in winter. And once, when it + was almost dark, they came upon a pop-eyed, loose-jointed, fierce-looking + creature in the trail who scurried away like a ball at sight of Thor. It + was a lynx. +</p> +<p> + It was not yet quite dark when Thor came out very quietly into a clearing, + and Muskwa found himself first on the shore of a creek, and then close to a + big pond. The air was full of the breath and warmth of a new kind of life. + It was not fish, and yet it seemed to come from the pond, in the centre of + which were three or four circular masses that looked like great brush-heaps + plastered with a coating of mud. +</p> +<p> + Whenever he came into this end of the valley Thor always paid a visit to + the beaver colony, and occasionally he helped himself to a fat young beaver + for supper or breakfast. This evening he was not hungry, and he was in a + hurry. In spite of these two facts he stood for some minutes in the shadows + near the pond. +</p> +<p> + The beavers had already begun their night's work. Muskwa soon understood + the significance of the shimmering streaks that ran swiftly over the + surface of the water. At the end of each streak was always a dark, flat + head, and now he saw that most of these streaks began at the farther edge + of the pond and made directly for a long, low barrier that shut in the + water a hundred yards to the east. +</p> +<p> + This particular barrier was strange to Thor, and with his maturer + knowledge of beaver ways he knew that his engineering friends—whom he ate + only occasionally—were broadening their domain by building a new dam. As + they watched, two fat workmen shoved a four-foot length of log into the + pond with a big splash, and one of them began piloting it toward the scene + of building operations, while his companion returned to other work. A + little later there was a crash in the timber on the opposite side of the + pond, where another workman had succeeded in felling a tree. Then Thor made + his way toward the dam. +</p> +<p> + Almost instantly there was a terrific crack out in the middle of the pond, + followed by a tremendous splash. An old beaver had seen Thor and with the + flat side of his broad tail had given the surface of the water a warning + slap that cut the still air like a rifle-shot. All at once there were + splashings and divings in every direction, and a moment later the pond was + ruffled and heaving as a score of interrupted workers dove excitedly under + the surface to the safety of their brush-ribbed and mud-plastered + strongholds, and Muskwa was so absorbed in the general excitement that he + almost forgot to follow Thor. +</p> +<p> + He overtook the grizzly at the dam. For a few moments Thor inspected the + new work, and then tested it with his weight. It was solid, and over this + bridge ready built for them they crossed to the higher ground on the + opposite side. A few hundred yards farther on Thor struck a fairly + well-beaten caribou trail which in the course of half an hour led them + around the end of the lake to the outlet stream flowing north. +</p> +<p> + Every minute Muskwa was hoping that Thor would stop. His afternoon's nap + had not taken the lameness out of his legs nor the soreness from the tender + pads of his feet. He had had enough, and more than enough, of travel, and + could he have regulated the world according to his own wishes he would not + have walked another mile for a whole month. Mere walking would not have + been so bad, but to keep up with Thor's ambling gait he was compelled to + trot, like a stubby four-year-old child hanging desperately to the thumb of + a big and fast-walking man. Muskwa had not even a thumb to hang to. The + bottoms of his feet were like boils; his tender nose was raw from contact + with brush and the knife-edged marsh grass, and his little back felt all + caved in. Still he hung on desperately, until the creek-bottom was again + sand and gravel, and travelling was easier. +</p> +<p> + The stars were up now, millions of them, clear and brilliant; and it was + quite evident that Thor had set his mind on an "all-night hike," a + <i>kuppatipsk pimootao</i> as a Cree tracker would have called it. Just how it + would have ended for Muskwa is a matter of conjecture had not the spirits + of thunder and rain and lightning put their heads together to give him a + rest. +</p> +<p> + For perhaps an hour the stars were undimmed, and Thor kept on like a + heathen without a soul, while Muskwa limped on all four feet. Then a low + rumbling gathered in the west. It grew louder and louder, and approached + swiftly—straight from the warm Pacific. Thor grew uneasy, and sniffed in + the face of it. Livid streaks began to criss-cross a huge pall of black + that was closing in on them like a vast curtain. The stars began to go out. + A moaning wind came. And then the rain. +</p> +<p> + Thor had found a huge rock that shelved inward, like a lean-to, and he + crept back under this with Muskwa before the deluge descended. For many + minutes it was more like a flood than a rain. It seemed as though a part of + the Pacific Ocean had been scooped up and dropped on them, and in half an + hour the creek was a swollen torrent. +</p> +<p> + The lightning and the crash of thunder terrified Muskwa. Now he could see + Thor in great blinding flashes of fire, and the next instant it was as + black as pitch; the tops of the mountains seemed falling down into the + valley; the earth trembled and shook—and he snuggled closer and closer to + Thor until at last he lay between his two forearms, half buried in the long + hair of the big grizzly's shaggy chest. Thor himself was not much concerned + in these noisy convulsions of nature, except to keep himself dry. When he + took a bath he wanted the sun to be shining and a nice warm rock close at + hand on which to stretch himself. +</p> +<p> + For a long time after its first fierce outbreak the rain continued to fall + in a gentle shower. Muskwa liked this, and under the sheltering rock, + snuggled against Thor, he felt very comfortable and easily fell asleep. + Through long hours Thor kept his vigil alone, drowsing now and then, but + kept from sound slumber by the restlessness that was in him. +</p> +<p> + It stopped raining soon after midnight, but it was very dark, the stream + was flooding over its bars, and Thor remained under the rock. Muskwa had a + splendid sleep. +</p> +<p> + Day had come when Thor's stirring roused Muskwa. He followed the grizzly + out into the open, feeling tremendously better than last night, though his + feet were still sore and his body was stiff. +</p> +<p> + Thor began to follow the creek again. Along this stream there were low + flats and many small bayous where grew luxuriantly the tender grass and + roots, and especially the slim long-stemmed lilies on which Thor was fond + of feeding. But for a thousand-pound grizzly to fill up on such vegetarian + dainties as these consumed many hours, if not one's whole time, and Thor + considered that he had no time to lose. Thor was a most ardent lover when + he loved at all, which was only a few days out of the year; and during + these days he twisted his mode of living around so that while the spirit + possessed him he no longer existed for the sole purpose of eating and + growing fat. For a short time he put aside his habit of living to eat, and + ate to live; and poor Muskwa was almost famished before another dinner was + forthcoming. +</p> +<p> + But at last, early in the afternoon, Thor came to a pool which he could not + pass. It was not a dozen feet in width, and it was alive with trout. The + fish had not been able to reach the lake above, and they had waited too + long after the flood-season to descend into the deeper waters of the Babine + and the Skeena. They had taken refuge in this pool, which was now about to + become a death-trap. +</p> +<p> + At one end the water was two feet deep; at the other end only a few inches. + After pondering over this fact for a few moments, the grizzly waded openly + into the deepest part, and from the bank above Muskwa saw the shimmering + trout darting into the shallower water. Thor advanced slowly, and now, when + he stood in less than eight inches of water, the panic-stricken fish one + after another tried to escape back into the deeper part of the pool. +</p> +<p> + Again and again Thor's big right paw swept up great showers of water. The + first inundation knocked Muskwa off his feet. But with it came a two-pound + trout which the cub quickly dragged out of range and began eating. So + agitated became the pool because of the mighty strokes of Thor's paw that + the trout completely lost their heads, and no sooner did they reach one end + than they turned about and darted for the other. They kept this up until + the grizzly had thrown fully a dozen of their number ashore. +</p> +<p> + So absorbed was Muskwa in his fish, and Thor in his fishing, that neither + had noticed a visitor. Both saw him at about the same time, and for fully + thirty seconds they stood and stared, Thor in his pool and the cub over his + fish, utter amazement robbing them of the power of movement. The visitor + was another grizzly, and as coolly as though he had done the fishing + himself he began eating the fish which Thor had thrown out! A worse insult + or a deadlier challenge could not have been known in the land of Beardom. + Even Muskwa sensed that fact. He looked expectantly at Thor. There was + going to be another fight, and he licked his little chops in anticipation. +</p> +<p> + Thor came up out of the pool slowly. On the bank he paused. The grizzlies + gazed at each other, the newcomer crunching a fish as he looked. Neither + growled. Muskwa perceived no signs of enmity, and then to his increased + astonishment Thor began eating a fish within three feet of the interloper! +</p> +<p> + Perhaps man is the finest of all God's creations, but when it comes to his + respect for old age he is no better, and sometimes not as good, as a + grizzly bear; for Thor would not rob an old bear, he would not fight an old + bear, and he would not drive an old bear from his own meat—which is more + than can be said of some humans. And the visitor was an old bear, and a + sick bear as well. He stood almost as high as Thor, but he was so old that + he was only half as broad across the chest, and his neck and head were + grotesquely thin. The Indians have a name for him. <i>Kuyas Wapusk</i> they call + him—the bear so old he is about to die. They let him go unharmed; other + bears tolerate him and let him eat their meat if he chances along; the + white man kills him. +</p> +<p> + This old bear was famished. His claws were gone; his hair was thin, and in + some places his skin was naked, and he had barely more than red, hard gums + to chew with. If he lived until autumn he would den up—for the last time. + Perhaps death would come even sooner than that. If so, <i>Kuyas Wapusk</i> + would know in time, and he would crawl off into some hidden cave or deep + crevice in the rocks to breathe his last. For in all the Rocky Mountains, + so far as Bruce or Langdon knew, there was not a man who had found the + bones or body of a grizzly that had died a natural death! +</p> +<p> + And big, hunted Thor, torn by wound and pursued by man, seemed to + understand that this would be the last real feast on earth for <i>Kuyas + Wapusk</i>—too old to fish for himself, too old to hunt, too old even to dig + out the tender lily roots; and so he let him eat until the last fish was + gone, and then went on, with Muskwa tagging at his heels. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH12">CHAPTER TWELVE</a></h3> +<p> + For still another two hours Thor led Muskwa on that tiresome jaunt into the + north. They had travelled a good twenty miles since leaving the Bighorn + Highway, and to the little tan-faced cub those twenty miles were like a + journey around the world. Ordinarily he would not have gone that far away + from his birthplace until his second year, and very possibly his third. +</p> +<p> + Not once in this hike down the valley had Thor wasted time on the mountain + slopes. He had picked out the easiest trails along the creek. Three or four + miles below the pool where they had left the old bear he suddenly changed + this procedure by swinging due westward, and a little later they were once + more climbing a mountain. They went up a long green slide for a quarter of + a mile, and luckily for Muskwa's legs this brought them to the smooth + plainlike floor of a break which took them without much more effort out on + the slopes of the other valley. This was the valley in which Thor had + killed the black bear twenty miles to the southward. +</p> +<p> + From the moment Thor looked out over the northern limits of his range a + change took possession of him. All at once he lost his eagerness to hurry. + For fifteen minutes he stood looking down into the valley, sniffing the + air. He descended slowly, and when he reached the green meadows and the + creek-bottom he <i>mooshed</i> along straight in the face of the wind, which was + coming from the south and west. It did not bring him the scent he + wanted—the smell of his mate. Yet an instinct that was more infallible + than reason told him that she was near, or should be near. He did not take + accident or sickness or the possibility of hunters having killed her into + consideration. This was where he had always started in to hunt for her, and + sooner or later he had found her. He knew her smell. And he crossed and + recrossed the bottoms so that it could not escape him. +</p> +<p> + When Thor was love-sick he was more or less like a man: that is to say, he + was an idiot. The importance of all other things dwindled into nothingness. + His habits, which were as fixed as the stars at other times, took a + complete vacation. He even forgot hunger, and the whistlers and gophers + were quite safe. He was tireless. He rambled during the night as well as + the day in quest of his lady-love. +</p> +<p> + It was quite natural that in these exciting hours he should forget Muskwa + almost entirely. At least ten times before sunset he crossed and recrossed + the creek, and the disgusted and almost ready-to-quit cub waded and swam + and floundered after him until he was nearly drowned. The tenth or dozenth + time Thor forded the stream Muskwa revolted and followed along on his own + side. It was not long before the grizzly returned. +</p> +<p> + It was soon after this, just as the sun was setting, that the unexpected + happened. What little wind there was suddenly swung straight into the east, + and from the western slopes half a mile away it brought a scent that held + Thor motionless in his tracks for perhaps half a minute, and then set him + off on that ambling run which is the ungainliest gait of all four-footed + creatures. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa rolled after him like a ball, pegging away for dear life, but losing + ground at every jump. In that half-mile stretch he would have lost Thor + altogether if the grizzly had not stopped near the bottom of the first + slope to take fresh reckonings. When he started up the slope Muskwa could + see him, and with a yelping cry for him to wait a minute set after him + again. +</p> +<p> + Two or three hundred yards up the mountainside the slope shelved downward + into a hollow, or dip, and nosing about in this dip, questing the air as + Thor had quested it, was the beautiful she-grizzly from over the range. + With her was one of her last year's cubs. Thor was within fifty yards of + her when he came over the crest. He stopped. He looked at her. And Iskwao, + "the female," looked at him. +</p> +<p> + Then followed true bear courtship. All haste, all eagerness, all desire for + his mate seemed to have left Thor; and if Iskwao had been eager and + yearning she was profoundly indifferent now. For two or three minutes Thor + stood looking casually about, and this gave Muskwa time to come up and + perch himself beside him, expecting another fight. +</p> +<p> + As though Thor was a thousand miles or so from her thoughts, Iskwao turned + over a flat rock and began hunting for grubs and ants, and not to be + outdone in this stoic unconcern Thor pulled up a bunch of grass and + swallowed it. Iskwao moved a step or two, and Thor moved a step or two, and + as if purely by accident their steps were toward each other. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa was puzzled. The older cub was puzzled. They sat on their haunches + like two dogs, one three times as big as the other, and wondered what was + going to happen. +</p> +<p> + It took Thor and Iskwao five minutes to arrive within five feet of each + other, and then very decorously they smelled noses. +</p> +<p> + The year-old cub joined the family circle. He was of just the right age to + have an exceedingly long name, for the Indians called him Pipoonaskoos—"the + yearling." He came boldly up to Thor and his mother. For a moment Thor did + not seem to notice him. Then his long right arm shot out in a sudden + swinging upper-cut that lifted Pipoonaskoos clean off the ground and sent + him spinning two-thirds of the distance up to Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + The mother paid no attention to this elimination of her offspring, and + still lovingly smelled noses with Thor. Muskwa, however, thought this was + the preliminary of another tremendous fight, and with a yelp of defiance + he darted down the slope and set upon Pipoonaskoos with all his might. +</p> +<p> + Pipoonaskoos was "mother's boy." That is, he was one of those cubs who + persist in following their mothers through a second season, instead of + striking out for themselves. He had nursed until he was five months old; + his parent had continued to hunt tidbits for him; he was fat, and sleek, + and soft; he was, in fact, a "Willie" of the mountains. +</p> +<p> + On the other hand, a few days had put a lot of real mettle into Muskwa, and + though he was only a third as large as Pipoonaskoos, and his feet were + sore, and his back ached, he landed on the other cub like a shot out of a + gun. +</p> +<p> + Still dazed by the blow of Thor's paw, Pipoonaskoos gave a yelping call to + his mother for help at this sudden onslaught. He had never been in a fight, + and he rolled over on his back and side, kicking and scratching and yelping + as Muskwa's needle-like teeth sank again and again into his tender hide. +</p> +<p> + Luckily Muskwa got him once by the nose, and bit deep, and if there was any + sand at all in Willie Pipoonaskoos this took it out of him, and while + Muskwa held on for dear life he let out a steady stream of yelps, + informing his mother that he was being murdered. To these cries Iskwao paid + no attention at all, but continued to smell noses with Thor. +</p> +<p> + Finally freeing his bleeding nose, Pipoonaskoos shook Muskwa off by sheer + force of superior weight and took to flight on a dead run. Muskwa pegged + valiantly after him. Twice they made the circle of the basin, and in + spite of his shorter legs, Muskwa was a close second in the race when + Pipoonaskoos, turning an affrighted glance sidewise for an instant, hit + against a rock and went sprawling. In another moment Muskwa was at him + again, and he would have continued biting and snarling until there was no + more strength left in him had he not happened to see Thor and Iskwao + disappearing slowly over the edge of the slope toward the valley. +</p> +<p> + Almost immediately Muskwa forgot fighting. He was amazed to find that + Thor, instead of tearing up the other bear, was walking off with her. + Pipoonaskoos also pulled himself together and looked. Then Muskwa looked at + Pipoonaskoos, and Pipoonaskoos looked at Muskwa. The tan-faced cub licked + his chops just once, as if torn between the prospective delight of mauling + Pipoonaskoos and the more imperative duty of following Thor. The other gave + him no choice. With a whimpering yelp he set off after his mother. +</p> +<p> + Exciting times followed for the two cubs. All that night Thor and Iskwao + kept by themselves in the buffalo willow thickets and the balsams of the + creek-bottom. Early in the evening Pipoonaskoos sneaked up to his mother + again, and Thor lifted him into the middle of the creek. The second visual + proof of Thor's displeasure impinged upon Muskwa the fact that the older + bears were not in a mood to tolerate the companionship of cubs, and the + result was a wary and suspicious truce between him and Pipoonaskoos. +</p> +<p> + All the next day Thor and Iskwao kept to themselves. Early in the morning + Muskwa began adventuring about a little in quest of food. He liked tender + grass, but it was not very filling. Several times he saw Pipoonaskoos + digging in the soft bottom close to the creek, and finally he drove the + other cub away from a partly digged hole and investigated for himself. + After a little more excavating he pulled out a white, bulbous, tender root + that he thought was the sweetest and nicest thing he had ever eaten, not + even excepting fish. It was the one <i>bonne bouche</i> of all the good things + he would eventually learn to eat—the spring beauty. One other thing alone + was at all comparable with it, and that was the dog-tooth violet. Spring + beauties were growing about him abundantly, and he continued to dig until + his feet were grievously tender. But he had the satisfaction of being + comfortably fed. +</p> +<p> + Thor was again responsible for a fight between Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos. + Late in the afternoon the older bears were lying down side by side in a + thicket when, without any apparent reason at all, Thor opened his huge jaws + and emitted a low, steady, growling roar that sounded very much like the + sound he had made when tearing the life out of the big black. Iskwao raised + her head and joined him in the tumult, both of them perfectly good-natured + and quite happy during the operation. Why mating bears indulge in this + blood-curdling duet is a mystery which only the bears themselves can + explain. It lasts for about a minute, and during this particular minute + Muskwa, who lay outside the thicket, thought that surely the glorious hour + had come when Thor was beating up the parent of Pipoonaskoos. And instantly + he looked for Pipoonaskoos. +</p> +<p> + Unfortunately the Willie-bear came sneaking round the edge of the brush + just then, and Muskwa gave him no chance to ask questions. He shot at him + in a black streak and Pipoonaskoos bowled over like a fat baby. For several + minutes they bit and dug and clawed, most of the biting and digging and + clawing being done by Muskwa, while Pipoonaskoos devoted his time and + energy to yelping. +</p> +<p> + Finally the larger cub got away and again took to flight. Muskwa pursued + him, into the brush and out, down to the creek and back, halfway up the + slope and down again, until he was so tired he had to drop on his belly for + a rest. +</p> +<p> + At this juncture Thor emerged from the thicket. He was alone. For the first + time since last night he seemed to notice Muskwa. Then he sniffed the wind + up the valley and down the valley, and after that turned and walked + straight toward the distant slopes down which they had come the preceding + afternoon. Muskwa was both pleased and perplexed. He wanted to go into the + thicket and snarl and pull at the hide of the dead bear that must be in + there, and he also wanted to finish Pipoonaskoos. After a moment or two of + hesitation he ran after Thor and again followed close at his heels. +</p> +<p> + After a little Iskwao came from the thicket and nosed the wind as Thor had + felt it. Then she turned in the opposite direction, and with Pipoonaskoos + close behind her, went up the slope and continued slowly and steadily in + the face of the setting sun. +</p> +<p> + So ended Thor's love-making and Muskwa's first fighting; and together they + trailed eastward again, to face the most terrible peril that had ever come + into the mountains for four-footed beast-a peril that was merciless, a + peril from which there was no escape, a peril that was fraught with death. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH13">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</a></h3> +<p> + The first night after leaving Iskwao and Pipoonaskoos the big grizzly and + the tan-faced cub wandered without sleep under the brilliant stars. Thor + did not hunt for meat. He climbed a steep slope, then went down the shale + side of a dip, and in a small basin hidden at the foot of a mountain came + to a soft green meadow where the dog-tooth violet, with its slender stem, + its two lily-like leaves, its single cluster of five-petalled flowers, and + its luscious, bulbous root grew in great profusion. And here all through + the night he dug and ate. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa, who had filled himself on spring beauty roots, was not hungry, and + as the day had been a restful one for him, outside of his fighting, he + found this night filled with its brilliant stars quite enjoyable. The moon + came up about ten o'clock, and it was the biggest, and the reddest, and the + most beautiful moon Muskwa had seen in his short life. It rolled up over + the peaks like a forest fire, and filled all the Rocky Mountains with a + wonderful glow. The basin, in which there were perhaps ten acres of meadow, + was lighted up almost like day. The little lake at the foot of the mountain + glimmered softly, and the tiny stream that fed it from the melting snows a + thousand feet above shot down in glistening cascades that caught the + moonlight like rivulets of dull polished diamonds. +</p> +<p> + About the meadow were scattered little clumps of bushes and a few balsams + and spruce, as if set there for ornamental purposes; and on one side there + was a narrow, verdure-covered slide that sloped upward for a third of a + mile, and at the top of which, unseen by Muskwa and Thor, a band of sheep + were sleeping. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa wandered about, always near Thor, investigating the clumps of + bushes, the dark shadows of the balsams and spruce, and the edge of the + lake. Here he found a plashet of soft mud which was a great solace to his + sore feet. Twenty times during the night he waded in the mud. +</p> +<p> + Even when the dawn came Thor seemed to be in no great haste to leave the + basin. Until the sun was well up he continued to wander about the meadow + and the edge of the lake, digging up occasional roots, and eating tender + grass. This did not displease Muskwa, who made his breakfast of the + dog-tooth violet bulbs. The one matter that puzzled him was why Thor did + not go into the lake and throw out trout, for he yet had to learn that all + water did not contain fish. At last he went fishing for himself, and + succeeded in getting a black hard-shelled water beetle that nipped his nose + with a pair of needle-like pincers and brought a yelp from him. +</p> +<p> + It was perhaps ten o'clock, and the sun-filled basin was like a warm oven + to a thick-coated bear, when Thor searched up among the rocks near the + waterfall until he found a place that was as cool as an old-fashioned + cellar. It was a miniature cavern. All about it the slate and sandstone was + of a dark and clammy wet from a hundred little trickles of snow water that + ran down from the peaks. +</p> +<p> + It was just the sort of a place Thor loved on a July day, but to Muskwa it + was dark and gloomy and not a thousandth part as pleasant as the sun. So + after an hour or two he left Thor in his frigidarium and began to + investigate the treacherous ledges. +</p> +<p> + For a few minutes all went well—then he stepped on a green-tinted slope of + slate over which a very shallow dribble of water was running. The water had + been running over it in just that way for some centuries, and the shelving + slate was worn as smooth as the surface of a polished pearl, and it was as + slippery as a greased pole. Muskwa's feet went out from under him so + quickly that he hardly knew what had happened. The next moment he was on + his way to the lake a hundred feet below. He rolled over and over. He + plashed into shallow pools. He bounced over miniature waterfalls like a + rubber ball. The wind was knocked out of him. He was blinded and dazed by + water and shock, and he gathered fresh speed with every yard he made. He + had succeeded in letting out half a dozen terrified yelps at the start, and + these roused Thor. +</p> +<p> + Where the water from the peaks fell into the lake there was a precipitous + drop of ten feet, and over this Muskwa shot with a momentum that carried + him twice as far out into the pond. He hit with a big splash, and + disappeared. Down and down he went, where everything was black and cold and + suffocating; then the life-preserver with which nature had endowed him in + the form of his fat brought him to the surface. He began to paddle with all + four feet. It was his first swim, and when he finally dragged himself + ashore he was limp and exhausted. +</p> +<p> + While he still lay panting and very much frightened, Thor came down from + the rocks. Muskwa's mother had given him a sound cuffing when he got the + porcupine quill in his foot. She had cuffed him for every accident he had + had, because she believed that cuffing was good medicine. Education is + largely cuffed into a bear cub, and she would have given him a fine cuffing + now. But Thor only smelled of him, saw that he was all right, and began to + dig up a dog-tooth violet. +</p> +<p> + He had not finished the violet when suddenly he stopped. For a half-minute + he stood like a statue. Muskwa jumped and shook himself. Then he listened. + A sound came to both of them. In one slow, graceful movement the grizzly + reared himself to his full height. He faced the north, his ears thrust + forward, the sensitive muscles of his nostrils twitching. He could smell + nothing, but he <i>heard</i>! +</p> +<p> + Over the slopes which they had climbed there had come to him faintly a + sound that was new to him, a sound that had never before been a part of his + life. It was the barking of dogs. +</p> +<p> + For two minutes Thor sat on his haunches without moving a muscle of his + great body except those twitching thews in his nose. +</p> +<p> + Deep down in this cup under the mountain it was difficult even for sound to + reach him. Quickly he swung down on all fours and made for the green slope + to the southward, at the top of which the band of sheep had slept during + the preceding night. Muskwa hurried after. +</p> +<p> + A hundred yards up the slope Thor stopped and turned. Again he reared + himself. Now Muskwa also faced to the north. A sudden downward drift of the + wind brought the barking of the dogs to them clearly. +</p> +<p> + Less than half a mile away Langdon's pack of trained Airedales were hot on + the scent. Their baying was filled with the fierce excitement which told + Bruce and Langdon, a quarter of a mile behind them, that they were close + upon their prey. +</p> +<p> + And even more than it thrilled them did the tongueing of the dogs thrill + Thor. Again it was instinct that told him a new enemy had come into his + world. He was not afraid. But that instinct urged him to retreat, and he + went higher until he came to a part of the mountain that was rough and + broken, where once more he halted. +</p> +<p> + This time he waited. Whatever the menace was it was drawing nearer with the + swiftness of the wind. He could hear it coming up the slope that sheltered + the basin from the valley. +</p> +<p> + The crest of that slope was just about on a level with Thor's eyes, and as + he looked the leader of the pack came up over the edge of it and stood for + a moment outlined against the sky. The others followed quickly, and for + perhaps thirty seconds they stood rigid on the cap of the hill, looking + down into the basin at their feet and sniffing the heavy scent with which + it was filled. +</p> +<p> + During those thirty seconds Thor watched his enemies without moving, while + in his deep chest there gathered slowly a low and terrible growl. Not until + the pack swept down into the cup of the mountain, giving full tongue again, + did he continue his retreat. But it was not flight. He was not afraid. He + was going on—because to go on was his business. He was not seeking + trouble; he had no desire even to defend his possession of the meadow and + the little lake under the mountain. There were other meadows and other + lakes, and he was not naturally a lover of fighting. But he was ready to + fight. +</p> +<p> + He continued to rumble ominously, and in him there was burning a slow and + sullen anger. He buried himself among the rocks; he followed a ledge with + Muskwa slinking close at his heels; he climbed over a huge scarp of rock, + and twisted among boulders half as big as houses. But not once did he go + where Muskwa could not easily follow. Once, when he drew himself from a + ledge to a projecting seam of sandstone higher up, and found that Muskwa + could not climb it, he came down and went another way. +</p> +<p> + The baying of the dogs was now deep down in the basin. Then it began to + rise swiftly, as if on wings, and Thor knew that the pack was coming up the + green slide. He stopped again, and this time the wind brought their scent + to him full and strong. +</p> +<p> + It was a scent that tightened every muscle in his great body and set + strange fires burning in him like raging furnaces. With the dogs came also + the <i>man-smell</i>! +</p> +<p> + He travelled upward a little faster now, and the fierce and joyous yelping + of the dogs seemed scarcely a hundred yards away when he entered a small + open space in the wild upheaval of rock. On the mountainside was a wall + that rose perpendicularly. Twenty feet on the other side was a sheer fall + of a hundred feet, and the way ahead was closed with the exception of a + trail scarcely wider than Thor's body by a huge crag of rock that had + fallen from the shoulder of the mountain. The big grizzly led Muskwa close + up to this crag and the break that opened through it, and then turned + suddenly back, so that Muskwa was behind him. In the face of the peril that + was almost upon them a mother-bear would have driven Muskwa into the safety + of a crevice in the rock wall. Thor did not do this. He fronted the danger + that was coming, and reared himself up on his hind quarters. +</p> +<p> + Twenty feet away the trail he had followed swung sharply around a + projecting bulge in the perpendicular wall, and with eyes that were now + red and terrible Thor watched the trap he had set. +</p> +<p> + The pack was coming full tongue. Fifty yards beyond the bulge the dogs were + running shoulder to shoulder, and a moment later the first of them rushed + into the arena which Thor had chosen for himself. The bulk of the horde + followed so closely that the first dogs were flung under him as they strove + frantically to stop themselves in time. +</p> +<p> + With a roar Thor launched himself among them. His great right arm swept out + and inward, and it seemed to Muskwa that he had gathered a half of the pack + under his huge body. With a single crunch of his jaws he broke the back of + the foremost hunter. From a second he tore the head so that the windpipe + trailed out like a red rope. +</p> +<p> + He rolled himself forward, and before the remaining dogs could recover from + their panic he had caught one a blow that sent him flying over the edge of + the precipice to the rocks a hundred feet below. It had all happened in + half a minute, and in that half-minute the remaining nine dogs had + scattered. +</p> +<p> + But Langdon's Airedales were fighters. To the last dog they had come of + fighting stock, and Bruce and Metoosin had trained them until they could be + hung up by their ears without whimpering. The tragic fate of three of their + number frightened them no more than their own pursuit had frightened Thor. +</p> +<p> + Swift as lightning they circled about the grizzly, spreading themselves on + their forefeet, ready to spring aside or backward to avoid sudden rushes, + and giving voice now to that quick, fierce yapping which tells hunters + their quarry is at bay. This was their business—to harass and torment, to + retard flight, to stop their prey again and again until their masters came + to finish the kill. It was a quite fair and thrilling sport for the bear + and the dogs. The man who comes up with the rifle ends it in murder. +</p> +<p> + But if the dogs had their tricks, Thor also had his. After three or four + vain rushes, in which the Airedales eluded him by their superior quickness, + he backed slowly toward the huge rock beside which Muskwa was crouching, + and as he retreated the dogs advanced. +</p> +<p> + Their increased barking and Thor's evident inability to drive them away or + tear them to pieces terrified Muskwa more than ever. Suddenly he turned + tail and darted into a crevice in the rock behind him. +</p> +<p> + Thor continued to back until his great hips touched the stone. Then he + swung his head side wise and looked for the cub. Not a hair of Muskwa was + to be seen. Twice Thor turned his head. After that, seeing that Muskwa was + gone, he continued to retreat until he blocked the narrow passage that was + his back door to safety. +</p> +<p> + The dogs were now barking like mad. They were drooling at their mouths, + their wiry crests stood up like brushes, and their snarling fangs were + bared to their red gums. +</p> +<p> + Nearer and nearer they came to him, challenging him to stay, to rush them, + to catch them if he could—and in their excitement they put ten yards of + open space behind them. Thor measured this space, as he had measured the + distance between him and the young bull caribou a few days before. And + then, without so much as a snarl of warning, he darted out upon his enemies + with a suddenness that sent them flying wildly for their lives. +</p> +<p> + Thor did not stop. He kept on. Where the rock wall bulged out the trail + narrowed to five feet, and he had measured this fact as well as the + distance. He caught the last dog, and drove it down under his paw. As it + was torn to pieces the Airedale emitted piercing cries of agony that + reached Bruce and Langdon as they hurried panting and wind-broken up the + slide that led from the basin. +</p> +<p> + Thor dropped on his belly in the narrowed trail, and as the pack broke + loose with fresh voice he continued to tear at his victim until the rock + was smeared with blood and hair and entrails. Then he rose to his feet and + looked again for Muskwa. The cub was curled up in a shivering ball two feet + in the crevice. It may be that Thor thought he had gone on up the mountain, + for he lost no time now in retreating from the scene of battle. He had + caught the wind again. Bruce and Langdon were sweating, and their smell + came to him strongly. +</p> +<p> + For ten minutes Thor paid no attention to the eight dogs yapping at his + heels, except to pause now and then and swing his head about. As he + continued in his retreat the Airedales became bolder, until finally one of + them sprang ahead of the rest and buried his fangs in the grizzly's leg. +</p> +<p> + This accomplished what barking had failed to do. With another roar Thor + turned and pursued the pack headlong for fifty yards over the back-trail, + and five precious minutes were lost before he continued upward toward the + shoulder of the mountain. +</p> +<p> + Had the wind been in another direction the pack would have triumphed, but + each time that Langdon and Bruce gained ground the wind warned Thor by + bringing to him the warm odour of their bodies. And the grizzly was careful + to keep that wind from the right quarter. He could have gained the top of + the mountain more easily and quickly by quartering the face of it on a + back-trail, but this would have thrown the wind too far under him. As long + as he held the wind he was safe, unless the hunters made an effort to + checkmate his method of escape by detouring and cutting him off. +</p> +<p> + It took him half an hour to reach the topmost ridge of rock, from which + point he would have to break cover and reveal himself as he made the last + two or three hundred yards up the shale side of the mountain to the + backbone of the range. +</p> +<p> + When Thor made this break he put on a sudden spurt of speed that left the + dogs thirty or forty yards behind him. For two or three minutes he was + clearly outlined on the face of the mountain, and during the last minute of + those three he was splendidly profiled against a carpet of pure-white snow, + without a shrub or a rock to conceal him from the eyes below. +</p> +<p> + Bruce and Langdon saw him at five hundred yards, and began firing. Close + over his head Thor heard the curious ripping wail of the first bullet, and + an instant later came the crack of the rifle. +</p> +<p> + A second shot sent up a spurt of snow five yards ahead of him. He swung + sharply to the right. This put him broadside to the marksmen. Thor heard a + third shot—and that was all. +</p> +<p> + While the reports were still echoing among the crags and peaks something + struck Thor a terrific blow on the flat of his skull, five inches back of + his right ear. It was as if a club had descended upon him from out of the + sky. He went down like a log. +</p> +<p> + It was a glancing shot. It scarcely drew blood, but for a moment it stunned + the grizzly, as a man is dazed by a blow on the end of the chin. +</p> +<p> + Before he could rise from where he had fallen the dogs were upon him, + tearing at his throat and neck and body. With a roar Thor sprang to his + feet and shook them off. He struck out savagely, and Langdon and Bruce + could hear his bellowing as they stood with fingers on the triggers of + their rifles waiting for the dogs to draw away far enough to give them the + final shots. +</p> +<p> + Yard by yard Thor worked his way upward, snarling at the frantic pack, + defying the man-smell, the strange thunder, the burning lightning—even + death itself, and five hundred yards below Langdon cursed despairingly as + the dogs hung so close he could not fire. +</p> +<p> + Up to the very sky-line the blood-thirsting pack shielded Thor. He + disappeared over the summit. The dogs followed. And after that their baying + came fainter and fainter as the big grizzly led them swiftly away from the + menace of man in a long and thrilling race from which more than one was + doomed not to return. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH14">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</a></h3> +<p> + In his hiding-place Muskwa heard the last sounds of the battle on the + ledge. The crevice was a V-shaped crack in the rock, and he had wedged + himself as far back in this as he could. He saw Thor pass the opening of + his refuge after he had killed the fourth dog; he heard the click, click, + click of his claws as he retreated up the trail; and at last he knew that + the grizzly was gone, and that the enemy had followed him. +</p> +<p> + Still he was afraid to come out. These strange pursuers that had come up + out of the valley had filled him with a deadly terror. Pipoonaskoos had not + made him afraid. Even the big black bear that Thor killed had not terrified + him as these red-lipped, white-fanged strangers had frightened him. So he + remained in his crevice, crowded as far back as he could get, like a wad + shoved in a gun-barrel. +</p> +<p> + He could still hear the tongueing of the dogs when other and nearer sounds + alarmed him. Langdon and Bruce came rushing around the bulge in the + mountain wall, and at sight of the dead dogs they stopped. Langdon cried + out in horror. +</p> +<p> + He was not more than twenty feet from Muskwa. For the first time the cub + heard human voices; for the first time the sweaty odour of men filled his + nostrils, and he scarcely breathed in his new fear. Then one of the hunters + stood directly in front of the crack in which he was hidden, and he saw his + first man. A moment later the men, too, were gone. +</p> +<p> + Later Muskwa heard the shots. After that the barking of the dogs grew more + and more distant until finally he could not hear them at all. It was about + three o'clock—the siesta hour in the mountains, and it was very quiet. +</p> +<p> + For a long time Muskwa did not move. He listened. And he heard nothing. + Another fear was growing in him now—the fear of losing Thor. With every + breath he drew he was hoping that Thor would return. For an hour he + remained wedged in the rock. Then he heard a <i>cheep, cheep, cheep</i>, + and a tiny striped rock-rabbit came out on the ledge where Muskwa could see + him and began cautiously investigating one of the slain Airedales. This + gave Muskwa courage. He pricked up his ears a bit. He whimpered softly, as + if beseeching recognition and friendship of the one tiny creature that was + near him in this dreadful hour of loneliness and fear. +</p> +<p> + Inch by inch he crawled out of his hiding-place. At last his little round, + furry head was out, and he looked about him. The trail was clear, and he + advanced toward the rock-rabbit. With a shrill chatter the striped mite + darted for its own stronghold, and Muskwa was alone again. +</p> +<p> + For a few moments he stood undecided, sniffing the air that was heavy with + the scent of blood, of man, and of Thor; then he turned up the mountain. +</p> +<p> + He knew Thor had gone in that direction, and if little Muskwa possessed a + mind and a soul they were filled with but one desire now—to overtake his + big friend and protector. Even fear of dogs and men, unknown quantities in + his life until to-day, was now overshadowed by the fear that he had lost + Thor. +</p> +<p> + He did not need eyes to follow the trail. It was warm under his nose, and + he started in the zigzag ascent of the mountain as fast as he could go. + There were places where progress was difficult for his short legs, but he + kept on valiantly and hopefully, encouraged by Thor's fresh scent. +</p> +<p> + It took him a good hour to reach the beginning of the naked shale that + reached up to the belt of snow and the sky-line, and it was four o'clock + when he started up those last three hundred yards between him and the + mountain-top. Up there he believed he would find Thor. But he was afraid, + and he continued to whimper softly to himself as he dug his little claws + bravely into the shale. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa did not look up to the crest of the peak again after he had started. + To have done that it would have been necessary for him to stop and turn + sidewise, for the ascent was steep. And so, when Muskwa was halfway to the + top, it happened that he did not see Langdon and Bruce as they came over + the sky-line; and he could not smell them, for the wind was blowing up + instead of down. Oblivious of their presence he came to the snow-belt. + Joyously he smelled of Thor's huge footprints, and followed them. And above + him Bruce and Langdon waited, crouched low, their guns on the ground, and + each with his thick flannel shirt stripped off and held ready in his + hands. When Muskwa was less than twenty yards from them they came tearing + down upon him like an avalanche. +</p> +<p> + Not until Bruce was upon him did Muskwa recover himself sufficiently to + move. He saw and realized danger in the last fifth of a second, and as + Bruce flung himself forward, his shirt outspread like a net, Muskwa darted + to one side. Sprawling on his face, Bruce gathered up a shirtful of snow + and clutched it to his breast, believing for a moment that he had the cub, + and at this same instant Langdon made a drive that entangled him with his + friend's long legs and sent him turning somersaults down the snow-slide. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa bolted down the mountain as fast as his short legs could carry him. + In another second Bruce was after him, and Langdon joined in ten feet + behind. +</p> +<p> + Suddenly Muskwa made a sharp turn, and the momentum with which Bruce was + coming carried him thirty or forty feet below him, where the lanky + mountaineer stopped himself only by doubling up like a jack-knife and + digging toes, hands, elbows, and even his shoulders in the soft shale. +</p> +<p> + Langdon had switched, and was hot after Muskwa. He flung himself face + downward, shirt outspread, just as the cub made another turn, and when he + rose to his feet his face was scratched and he spat half a handful of dirt + and shale out of his mouth. +</p> +<p> + Unfortunately for Muskwa his second turn brought him straight down to + Bruce, and before he could turn again he was enveloped in sudden darkness + and suffocation, and over him there rang out a fiendish and triumphant + yell. +</p> +<p> + "I got 'im!" shouted Bruce. +</p> +<p> + Inside the shirt Muskwa scratched and bit and snarled, and Bruce was having + his hands full when Langdon ran down with the second shirt. Very shortly + Muskwa was trussed up like a papoose. His legs and his body were swathed so + tightly that he could not move them. His head was not covered. It was the + only part of him that showed, and the only part of him that he could move, + and it looked so round and frightened and funny that for a minute or two + Langdon and Bruce forgot their disappointments and losses of the day and + laughed. +</p> +<p> + Then Langdon sat down on one side of Muskwa, and Bruce on the other, and + they filled and lighted their pipes. Muskwa could not even kick an + objection. +</p> +<p> + "A couple of husky hunters we are," said Langdon then. "Come out for a + grizzly and end up with that!" +</p> +<p> + He looked at the cub. Muskwa was eying him so earnestly that Langdon sat in + mute wonder for a moment, and then slowly took his pipe from his mouth and + stretched out a hand. +</p> +<p> + "Cubby, cubby, nice cubby," he cajoled softly. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa's tiny ears were perked forward. His bright eyes were like glass. + Bruce, unobserved by Langdon, was grinning expectantly. +</p> +<p> + "Cubby won't bite—no—no—nice little cubby—we won't hurt cubby—" +</p> +<p> + The next instant a wild yell startled the mountain-tops as Muskwa's + needle-like teeth sank into one of Langdon's fingers. Bruce's howls of joy + would have frightened game a mile away. +</p> +<p> + "You little devil!" gasped Langdon, and then, as he sucked his wounded + finger, he laughed with Bruce. "He's a sport—a dead game sport," he added. + "We'll call him Spitfire, Bruce. By George, I've wanted a cub like that + ever since I first came into the mountains. I'm going to take him home + with me! Ain't he a funny looking little cuss?" +</p> +<p> + Muskwa shifted his head, the only part of him that was not as stiffly + immovable as a mummy, and scrutinized Bruce. Langdon rose to his feet and + looked back to the sky-line. His face was set and hard. +</p> +<p> + "Four dogs!" he said, as if speaking to himself. "Three down below—and one + up there!" He was silent for a moment, and then said: "I can't understand + it, Bruce. They've cornered fifty bears for us, and until to-day we've + never lost a dog." +</p> +<p> + Bruce was looping a buckskin thong about Muskwa's middle, making of it a + sort of handle by which he could carry the cub as he would have conveyed a + pail of water or a slab of bacon. He stood up, and Muskwa dangled at the + end of his string. +</p> +<p> + "We've run up against a killer," he said. "An' a meat-killin' grizzly is + the worst animal on the face of the earth when it comes to a fight or a + hunt. The dogs'll never hold 'im, Jimmy, an' if it don't get dark pretty + soon there won't none of the bunch come back. They'll quit at dark—if + there's any left. The old fellow's got our wind, an' you can bet he knows + what knocked him down up there on the snow. He's hikin'—an' hikin' fast. + When we see 'im ag'in it'll be twenty miles from here." +</p> +<p> + Langdon went up for the guns. When he returned Bruce led the way down the + mountain, carrying Muskwa by the buckskin thong. For a few moments they + paused on the blood-stained ledge of rock where Thor had wreaked his + vengeance upon his tormentors. Langdon bent over the dog the grizzly had + decapitated. +</p> +<p> + "This is Biscuits," he said. "And we always thought she was the one coward + of the bunch. The other two are Jane and Tober; old Fritz is up on the + summit. Three of the best dogs we had, Bruce!" +</p> +<p> + Bruce was looking over the ledge. He pointed downward. +</p> +<p> + "There's another—pitched clean off the face o' the mount'in!" he gasped. + "Jimmy, that's five!" +</p> +<p> + Langdon's fists were clenched tightly as he stared over the edge of the + precipice. A choking sound came from his throat. Bruce understood its + meaning. From where they stood they could see a black patch on the + upturned breast of the dog a hundred feet under them. Only one of the pack + was marked like that. It was Langdon's favourite. He had made her a camp + pet. +</p> +<p> + "It's Dixie," he said. For the first time he felt a surge of anger sweep + through him, and his face was white as he turned back to the trail. "I've + got more than one reason for getting that grizzly now, Bruce," he added. + "Wild horses can't tear me away from these mountains until I kill him. I'll + stick until winter if I have to. I swear I'm going to kill him—if he + doesn't run away." +</p> +<p> + "He won't do that," said Bruce tersely, as he once more swung down the + trail with Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + Until now Muskwa had been stunned into submissiveness by what must have + appeared to him to be an utterly hopeless situation. He had strained every + muscle in his body to move a leg or a paw, but he was swathed as tightly as + Rameses had ever been. But now, however, it slowly dawned upon him that as + he dangled back and forth his face frequently brushed his enemy's leg, and + he still had the use of his teeth. He watched his opportunity, and this + came when Bruce took a long step down from a rock, thus allowing Muskwa's + body to rest for the fraction of a second on the surface of the stone from + which he was descending. +</p> +<p> + Quicker than a wink Muskwa took a bite. It was a good deep bite, and if + Langdon's howl had stirred the silences a mile away the yell which now + came from Bruce beat him by at least a half. It was the wildest, most + blood-curdling sound Muskwa had ever heard, even more terrible than the + barking of the dogs, and it frightened him so that he released his hold at + once. +</p> +<p> + Then, again, he was amazed. These queer bipeds made no effort to retaliate. + The one he had bitten hopped up and down on one foot in a most unaccountable + manner for a minute or so, while the other sat down on a boulder and rocked + back and forth, with his hands on his stomach, and made a queer, uproarious + noise with his mouth wide open. Then the other stopped his hopping and also + made that queer noise. +</p> +<p> + It was anything but laughter to Muskwa. But it impinged upon him the truth + of one of two things: either these grotesque looking monsters did not dare + to fight him, or they were very peaceful and had no intention of harming + him. But they were more cautious thereafter, and as soon as they reached + the valley they carried him between them, strung on a rifle-barrel. +</p> +<p> + It was almost dark when they approached a clump of balsams red with the + glow of a fire. It was Muskwa's first fire. Also he saw his first horses, + terrific looking monsters even larger than Thor. +</p> +<p> + A third man—Metoosin, the Indian—came out to meet the hunters, and into + this creature's hands Muskwa found himself transferred. He was laid on his + side with the glare of the fire in his eyes, and while one of his captors + held him by both ears, and so tightly that it hurt, another fastened a + hobble-strap around his neck for a collar. A heavy halter rope was then + tied to the ring on this strap, and the end of the rope was fastened to a + tree. +</p> +<p> + During these operations Muskwa snarled and snapped as much as he could. In + another half-minute he was free of the shirts, and as he staggered on four + wobbly legs, from which all power of flight had temporarily gone, he bared + his tiny fangs and snarled as fiercely as he could. +</p> +<p> + To his further amazement this had no effect upon his strange company at + all, except that the three of them—even the Indian—opened their mouths + and joined in that loud and incomprehensible din, to which one of them had + given voice when he sank his teeth into his captor's leg on the mountainside. + It was all tremendously puzzling to Muskwa. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH15">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</a></h3> +<p> + Greatly to Muskwa's relief the three men soon turned away from him and + began to busy themselves about the fire. This gave him a chance to escape, + and he pulled and tugged at the end of the rope until he nearly choked + himself to death. Finally he gave up in despair, and crumpling himself up + against the foot of the balsam he began to watch the camp. +</p> +<p> + He was not more than thirty feet from the fire. Bruce was washing his hands + in a canvas basin. Langdon was mopping his face with a towel. Close to the + fire Metoosin was kneeling, and from the big black skittle he was holding + over the coals came the hissing and sputtering of fat caribou steaks, and + about the pleasantest smell that had ever come Muskwa's way. The air all + about him was heavy with the aroma of good things. +</p> +<p> + When Langdon had finished drying his face he opened a can of something. It + was sweetened condensed milk. He poured the white fluid into a basin, and + came with it toward Muskwa. The cub had unsuccessfully attempted flight on + the ground until his neck was sore; now he climbed the tree. He went up so + quickly that Langdon was astonished, and he snarled and spat at the man as + the basin of milk was placed where he would almost fall into it when he + came down. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa remained at the end of his rope up the tree, and for a long time the + hunters paid no more attention to him. He could see them eating and he + could hear them talking as they planned a new campaign against Thor. +</p> +<p> + "We've got to trick him after what happened to-day," declared Bruce. "No + more tracking 'im after this, Jimmy. We can track until doomsday an' he'll + always know where we are." He paused for a moment and listened. "Funny the + dogs don't come," he said. "I wonder—" +</p> +<p> + He looked at Langdon. +</p> +<p> + "Impossible!" exclaimed the latter, as he read the significance of his + companion's look. "Bruce, you don't mean to say that bear might kill them + all!" +</p> +<p> + "I've hunted a good many grizzlies," replied the mountaineer quietly, "but + I ain't never hunted a trickier one than this. Jimmy, he trapped them dogs + on the ledge, an' he tricked the dog he killed up on the peak. He's liable + to get 'em all into a corner, an' if that happens—" +</p> +<p> + He shrugged his shoulders suggestively. +</p> +<p> + Again Langdon listened. +</p> +<p> + "If there were any alive at dark they should be here pretty soon," he said. + "I'm sorry, now—sorry we didn't leave the dogs at home." +</p> +<p> + Bruce laughed a little grimly. +</p> +<p> + "Fortunes o' war, Jimmy," he said. "You don't go hunting grizzlies with a + pack of lapdogs, an' you've got to expect to lose some of them sooner or + later. We've tackled the wrong bear, that's all. He's beat us." +</p> +<p> + "Beat us?" +</p> +<p> + "I mean he's beat us in a square game, an' we dealt a raw hand at that in + using dogs at all. Do you want that bear bad enough to go after him my + way?" +</p> +<p> + Langdon nodded. +</p> +<p> + "What's your scheme?" +</p> +<p> + "You've got to drop pretty idees when you go grizzly hunting," began + Bruce. "And especially when you run up against a 'killer.' There won't be + any hour between now an' denning-up time that this grizzly doesn't get the + wind from all directions. How? He'll make detours. I'll bet if there was + snow on the ground you'd find him back-tracking two miles out of every six, + so he can get the wind of anything that's following him. An' he'll travel + mostly nights, layin' high up in the rocks an' shale during the day. If you + want any more shootin', there's just two things to do, an' the best of them + two things is to move on and find other bears." +</p> +<p> + "Which I won't do, Bruce. What's your scheme for getting this one?" +</p> +<p> + Bruce was silent for several moments before he replied. +</p> +<p> + "We've got his range mapped out to a mile," he said then. "It begins up at + the first break we crossed, an' it ends down here where we came into this + valley. It's about twenty-five miles up an' down. He don't touch the + mount'ins west of this valley nor the mount'ins east of the other valleys + an' he's dead certain to keep on makin' circles so long as we're after + him. He's hikin' southward now on the other side of the range. +</p> +<p> + "We'll lay here for a few days an' not move. Then we'll start Metoosin + through the valley over there with the dogs, if there's any left, and we'll + start south through this valley at the same time. One of us will keep to + the slopes an' the other to the bottom, an' we'll travel slow. Get the + idee? +</p> +<p> + "That grizzly won't leave his country, an' Metoosin is pretty near bound to + drive him around to us. We'll let him do the open hunting an' we'll skulk. + The bear can't get past us both without giving one of us shooting." +</p> +<p> + "It sounds good," agreed Langdon. "And I've got a lame knee that I'm not + unwilling to nurse for a few days." +</p> +<p> + Scarcely were the words out of Langdon's mouth when a sudden rattle of + hobble-chains and the startled snort of a grazing horse out in the meadow + brought them both to their feet. +</p> +<p> + "Utim!" whispered Metoosin, his dark face aglow in the firelight. +</p> +<p> + "You're right—the dogs," said Bruce, and he whistled softly. +</p> +<p> + They heard a movement in the brush near them, and a moment later two of + the dogs came into the firelight. They slunk in, half on their bellies, and + as they prostrated themselves at the hunters' feet a third and a fourth + joined them. +</p> +<p> + They were not like the pack that had gone out that morning. There were deep + hollows in their sides; their wiry crests were flat; they were hard run, + and they knew that they were beaten. Their aggressiveness was gone, and + they had the appearance of whipped curs. +</p> +<p> + A fifth came in out of the night. He was limping, and dragging a torn + foreleg. The head and throat of one of the others was red with blood. They + all lay flat on their bellies, as if expecting condemnation. +</p> +<p> + "We have failed," their attitude said; "we are beaten, and this is all of + us that are left." +</p> +<p> + Mutely Bruce and Langdon stared at them. They listened—waited. No other + came. And then they looked at each other. +</p> +<p> + "Two more of them gone," said Langdon. +</p> +<p> + Bruce turned to a pile of panniers and canvases and pulled out the + dog-leashes. Up in his tree Muskwa was all atremble. Within a few yards of + him he saw again the white-fanged horde that had chased Thor and had + driven him into the rock-crevice. Of the men he was no longer greatly + afraid. They had attempted him no harm, and he had ceased to quake and + snarl when one of them passed near. But the dogs were monsters. They had + given battle to Thor. They must have beaten him, for Thor had run away. +</p> +<p> + The tree to which Muskwa was fastened was not much more than a sapling, and + he lay in the saddle of a crotch five feet from the ground when Metoosin + led one of the dogs past him. The Airedale saw him and made a sudden spring + that tore the leash from the Indian's hand. His leap carried him almost up + to Muskwa. He was about to make another spring when Langdon rushed forward + with a fierce cry, caught the dog by his collar, and with the end of the + leash gave him a sound beating. Then he led him away. +</p> +<p> + This act puzzled Muskwa more than ever. The man had saved him. He had + beaten the monster with the red mouth and the white fangs, and all of those + monsters were now being taken away at the end of ropes. +</p> +<p> + When Langdon returned he stopped close to Muskwa's tree and talked to him. + Muskwa allowed Langdon's hand to approach within six inches of him, and did + not snap at it. Then a strange and sudden thrill shot through him. While + his head was turned a little Langdon had boldly put his hand on his furry + back. And in the touch there was not hurt! His mother had never put her paw + on him as gently as that! +</p> +<p> + Half a dozen times in the next ten minutes Langdon touched him. For the + first three or four times Muskwa bared his two rows of shining teeth, but + he made no sound. Gradually he ceased even to bare his teeth. +</p> +<p> + Langdon left him then, and in a few moments he returned with a chunk of raw + caribou meat. He held this close to Muskwa's nose. Muskwa could smell it, + but he backed away from it, and at last Langdon placed it beside the basin + at the foot of the tree and returned to where Bruce was smoking. +</p> +<p> + "Inside of two days he'll be eating out of my hand," he said. +</p> +<p> + It was not long before the camp became very quiet. Langdon, Bruce, and the + Indian rolled themselves in their blankets and were soon asleep. The fire + burned lower and lower. Soon there was only a single smouldering log. An + owl hooted a little deeper in the timber. The drone of the valley and the + mountains filled the peaceful night. The stars grew brighter. Far away + Muskwa heard the rumbling of a boulder rolling down the side of a mountain. +</p> +<p> + There was nothing to fear now. Everything was still and asleep but himself, + and very cautiously he began to back down the tree. He reached the foot of + it, loosed his hold, and half fell into the basin of condensed milk, a part + of it slopping up over his face. Involuntarily he shot out his tongue and + licked his chops, and the sweet, sticky stuff that it gathered filled him + with a sudden and entirely unexpected pleasure. For a quarter of an hour he + licked himself. And then, as if the secret of this delightful ambrosia had + just dawned upon him, his bright little eyes fixed themselves covetously + upon the tin basin. He approached it with commendable strategy and caution, + circling first on one side of it and then on the other, every muscle in his + body prepared for a quick spring backward if it should make a jump for + him. At last his nose touched the thick, luscious feast in the basin, and + he did not raise his head again until the last drop of it was gone. +</p> +<p> + The condensed milk was the one biggest factor in the civilizing of Muskwa. + It was the missing link that connected certain things in his lively little + mind. He knew that the same hand that had touched him so gently had also + placed this strange and wonderful feast at the foot of his tree, and that + same hand had also offered him meat. He did not eat the meat, but he licked + the interior of the basin until it shone like a mirror in the starlight. +</p> +<p> + In spite of the milk, he was still filled with a desire to escape, though + his efforts were not as frantic and unreasoning as they had been. + Experience had taught him that it was futile to jump and tug at the end of + his leash, and now he fell to chewing at the rope. Had he gnawed in one + place he would probably have won freedom before morning, but when his jaws + became tired he rested, and when he resumed his work it was usually at a + fresh place in the rope. By midnight his gums were sore, and he gave up his + exertions entirely. +</p> +<p> + Humped close to the tree, ready to climb up it at the first sign of + danger, the cub waited for morning. Not a wink did he sleep. Even though he + was less afraid than he had been, he was terribly lonesome. He missed Thor, + and he whimpered so softly that the men a few yards away could not have + heard him had they been awake. If Pipoonaskoos had come into the camp then + he would have welcomed him joyfully. +</p> +<p> + Morning came, and Metoosin was the first out of his blankets. He built a + fire, and this roused Bruce and Langdon. The latter, after he had dressed + himself, paid a visit to Muskwa, and when he found the basin licked clean + he showed his pleasure by calling the others' attention to what had + happened. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa had climbed to his crotch in the tree, and again he tolerated the + stroking touch of Langdon's hand. Then Langdon brought forth another can + from a cowhide pannier and opened it directly under Muskwa, so that he + could see the creamy white fluid as it was turned into the basin. He held + the basin up to Muskwa, so close that the milk touched the cub's nose, and + for the life of him Muskwa could not keep his tongue in his mouth. Inside + of five minutes he was eating from the basin in Langdon's hand! But when + Bruce came up to watch the proceedings the cub bared all his teeth and + snarled. +</p> +<p> + "Bears make better pets than dogs," affirmed Bruce a little later, when + they were eating breakfast. "He'll be following you around like a puppy in + a few days, Jimmy." +</p> +<p> + "I'm getting fond of the little cuss already," replied Langdon. "What was + that you were telling me about Jameson's bears, Bruce?" +</p> +<p> + "Jameson lived up in the Kootenay country," said Bruce. "Reg'lar hermit, I + guess you'd call him. Came out of the mountains only twice a year to get + grub. He made pets of grizzlies. For years he had one as big as this fellow + we're chasing. He got 'im when a cub, an 'when I saw him he weighed a + thousand pounds an' followed Jameson wherever he went like a dog. Even went + on his hunts with him, an 'they slept beside the same campfire. Jameson + loved bears, an' he'd never kill one." +</p> +<p> + Langdon was silent. After a moment he said: "And I'm beginning to love + them, Bruce. I don't know just why, but there's something about bears that + makes you love them. I'm not going to shoot many more—perhaps none after + we get this dog-killer we're after. I almost believe he will be my last + bear." Suddenly he clenched his hands, and added angrily: "And to think + there isn't a province in the Dominion or a state south of the Border that + has a 'closed season' for bear! It's an outrage, Bruce. They're classed + with vermin, and can be exterminated at all seasons. They can even be dug + out of their dens with their young—and—so help me Heaven!—I've helped to + dig them out! We're beasts, Bruce. Sometimes I almost think it's a crime + for a man to carry a gun. And yet—I go on killing." +</p> +<p> + "It's in our blood," laughed Bruce, unmoved. "Did you ever know a man, + Jimmy, that didn't like to see things die? Wouldn't every mother's soul of + 'em go to a hanging if they had the chance? Won't they crowd like buzzards + round a dead horse to get a look at a man crushed to a pulp under a rock or + a locomotive engine? Why, Jimmie, if there weren't no law to be afraid of, + we humans'd be killing one another for the fun of it! We would. It's born + in us to want to kill." +</p> +<p> + "And we take it all out on brute creation," mused Langdon. "After all, we + can't have much sympathy for ourselves if a generation or two of us are + killed in war, can we? Mebby you're right, Bruce. Inasmuch as we can't kill + our neighbours legally whenever we have the inclination, it's possible the + Chief Arbiter of things sends us a war now and then to relieve us + temporarily of our blood-thirstiness. Hello, what in thunder is the cub up + to now?" +</p> +<p> + Muskwa had fallen the wrong way out of his crotch and was dangling like the + victim at the end of a hangman's rope. Langdon ran to him, caught him + boldly in his bare hands, lifted him up over the limb and placed him on the + ground. Muskwa did not snap at him or even growl. +</p> +<p> + Bruce and Metoosin were away from camp all of that day, spying over the + range to the westward, and Langdon was left to doctor a knee which he had + battered against a rock the previous day. He spent most of his time in + company with Muskwa. He opened a can of their griddle-cake syrup and by + noon he had the cub following him about the tree and straining to reach the + dish which he held temptingly just out of reach. Then he would sit down, + and Muskwa would climb half over his lap to reach the syrup. +</p> +<p> + At his present age Muskwa's affection and confidence were easily won. A + baby black bear is very much like a human baby: he likes milk, he loves + sweet things, and he wants to cuddle up close to any living thing that is + good to him. He is the most lovable creature on four legs—round and soft + and fluffy, and so funny that he is sure to keep every one about him in + good humour. More than once that day Langdon laughed until the tears came, + and especially when Muskwa made determined efforts to climb up his leg to + reach the dish of syrup. +</p> +<p> + As for Muskwa, he had gone syrup mad. He could not remember that his mother + had ever given him anything like it, and Thor had produced nothing better + than fish. +</p> +<p> + Late in the afternoon Langdon untied Muskwa's rope and led him for a stroll + down toward the creek. He carried the syrup dish and every few yards he + would pause and let the cub have a taste of its contents. After half an + hour of this manoeuvring he dropped his end of the leash entirely, and + walked campward. And Muskwa followed! It was a triumph, and in Langdon's + veins there pulsed a pleasurable thrill which his life in the open had + never brought to him before. +</p> +<p> + It was late when Metoosin returned, and he was quite surprised that Bruce + had not shown up. Darkness came, and they built up the fire. They were + finishing supper an hour later when Bruce came in, carrying something swung + over his shoulders. He tossed it close to where Muskwa was hidden behind + his tree. +</p> +<p> + "A skin like velvet, and some meat for the dogs," he said. "I shot it with + my pistol." +</p> +<p> + He sat down and began eating. After a little Muskwa cautiously approached + the carcass that lay doubled up three or four feet from him. He smelled of + it, and a curious thrill shot through him. Then he whimpered softly as he + muzzled the soft fur, still warm with life. And for a time after that he + was very still. +</p> +<p> + For the thing that Bruce had brought into camp and flung at the foot of his + tree was the dead body of little Pipoonaskoos! +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH16">CHAPTER SIXTEEN</a></h3> +<p> + That night the big loneliness returned to Muskwa. Bruce and Metoosin were + so tired after their hard climb over the range that they went to bed early, + and Langdon followed them, leaving Pipoonaskoos where Bruce had first + thrown him. +</p> +<p> + Scarcely a move had Muskwa made after the discovery that had set his heart + beating a little faster. He did not know what death was, or what it meant, + and as Pipoonaskoos was so warm and soft he was sure that he would move + after a little. He had no inclination to fight him now. +</p> +<p> + Again it grew very, very still, and the stars filled the sky, and the fire + burned low. But Pipoonaskoos did not move. Gently at first, Muskwa began + nosing him and pulling at his silken hair, and as he did this he whimpered + softly, as if saying, "I don't want to fight you any more, Pipoonaskoos! + Wake up, and let's be friends!" +</p> +<p> + But still Pipoonaskoos did not stir, and at last Muskwa gave up all hope + of waking him. And still whimpering to his fat little enemy of the green + meadow how sorry he was that he had chased him, he snuggled close up to + Pipoonaskoos and in time went to sleep. +</p> +<p> + Langdon was first up in the morning, and when he came over to see how + Muskwa had fared during the night he suddenly stopped, and for a full + minute he stood without moving, and then a low, strange cry broke from his + lips. For Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos were snuggled as closely as they could + have snuggled had both been living, and in some way Muskwa had arranged it + so that one of the dead cub's little paws was embracing him. +</p> +<p> + Quietly Langdon returned to where Bruce was sleeping, and in a minute or + two Bruce returned with him, rubbing his eyes. And then he, too, stared, + and the men looked at each other. +</p> +<p> + "Dog meat," breathed Langdon. "You brought it home for dog meat, Bruce!" +</p> +<p> + Bruce did not answer, Langdon said nothing more, and neither talked very + much for a full hour after that. During that hour Metoosin came and dragged + Pipoonaskoos away, and instead of being skinned and fed to the dogs he was + put into a hole down in the creek-bottom and covered with sand and stones. + That much, at least, Bruce and Langdon did for Pipoonaskoos. +</p> +<p> + This day Metoosin and Bruce again went over the range. The mountaineer had + brought back with him bits of quartz in which were unmistakable signs of + gold, and they returned with an outfit for panning. +</p> +<p> + Langdon continued his education of Muskwa. Several times he took the cub + near the dogs, and when they snarled and strained at the ends of their + leashes he whipped them, until with quick understanding they gripped the + fact that Muskwa, although a bear, must not be harmed. +</p> +<p> + In the afternoon of this second day he freed the cub entirely from the + rope, and he had no difficulty in recapturing it when he wanted to tie it + up again. The third and fourth days Bruce and the Indian explored the + valley west of the range and convinced themselves finally that the + "colours" they found were only a part of the flood-drifts, and would not + lead to fortune. +</p> +<p> + On this fourth night, which happened to be thick with clouds, and chilly, + Langdon experimented by taking Muskwa to bed with him. He expected trouble. + But Muskwa was as quiet as a kitten, and once he found a proper nest for + himself he scarcely made a move until morning. A part of the night Langdon + slept with one of his hands resting on the cub's soft, warm body. +</p> +<p> + According to Bruce it was now time to continue the hunt for Thor, but a + change for the worse in Langdon's knee broke in upon their plans. It was + impossible for Langdon to walk more than a quarter of a mile at a time, and + the position he was compelled to take in the saddle caused him so much pain + that to prosecute the hunt even on horseback was out of the question. +</p> +<p> + "A few more days won't hurt any," consoled Bruce. "If we give the old + fellow a longer rest he may get a bit careless." +</p> +<p> + The three days that followed were not without profit and pleasure for + Langdon. Muskwa was teaching him more than he had ever known about bears, + and especially bear cubs, and he made notes voluminously. +</p> +<p> + The dogs were now confined to a clump of trees fully three hundred yards + from the camp, and gradually the cub was given his freedom. He made no + effort to run away, and he soon discovered that Bruce and Metoosin were + also his friends. But Langdon was the only one he would follow. +</p> +<p> + On the morning of the eighth day after their pursuit of Thor, Bruce and + Metoosin rode over into the eastward valley with the dogs. Metoosin was to + have a day's start, and Bruce planned to return to camp that afternoon so + that he and Langdon could begin their hunt up the valley the next day. +</p> +<p> + It was a glorious morning. A cool breeze came from the north and west, and + about nine o'clock Langdon fastened Muskwa to his tree, saddled a horse, + and rode down the valley. He had no intention of hunting. It was a joy + merely to ride and breathe in the face of that wind and gaze upon the + wonders of the mountains. +</p> +<p> + He travelled northward for three or four miles, until he came to a broad, + low slope that broke through the range to the westward. A desire seized + upon him to look over into the other valley, and as his knee was giving him + no trouble he cut a zigzag course upward that in half an hour brought him + almost to the top. +</p> +<p> + Here he came to a short, steep slide that compelled him to dismount and + continue on foot. At the summit he found himself on a level sweep of + meadow, shut in on each side of him by the bare rock walls of the split + mountains, and a quarter of a mile ahead he could see where the meadow + broke suddenly into the slope that shelved downward into the valley he was + seeking. +</p> +<p> + Halfway over this quarter of a mile of meadow there was a dip into which he + could not see, and as he came to the edge of this he flung himself suddenly + upon his face and for a minute or two lay as motionless as a rock. Then he + slowly raised his head. +</p> +<p> + A hundred yards from him, gathered about a small water-hole in the hollow, + was a herd of goats. There were thirty or more, most of them Nannies with + young kids. Langdon could make out only two Billies in the lot. For half an + hour he lay still and watched them. Then one of the Nannies struck out with + her two kids for the side of the mountain; another followed, and seeing + that the whole band was about to move, Langdon rose quickly to his feet and + ran as fast as he could toward them. +</p> +<p> + For a moment Nannies, Billies, and little kids were paralyzed by his + sudden appearance. They faced half about and stood as if without the power + of flight until he had covered half the distance between t hem. Then their + wits seemed to return all at once, and they broke in a wild panic for the + side of the nearest mountain. Their hoofs soon began to clatter on boulder + and shale, and for another half-hour Langdon heard the hollow booming of + the rocks loosened by their feet high up among the crags and peaks. At the + end of that time they were infinitesimal white dots on the sky-line. +</p> +<p> + He went on, and a few minutes later looked down into the other valley. + Southward this valley was shut out from his vision by a huge shoulder of + rock. It was not very high, and he began to climb it. He had almost reached + the top when his toe caught in a piece of slate, and in falling he brought + his rifle down with tremendous force on a boulder. +</p> +<p> + He was not hurt, except for a slight twinge in his lame knee. But his gun + was a wreck. The stock was shattered close to the breech and a twist of his + hand broke it off entirely. +</p> +<p> + As he carried two extra rifles in his outfit the mishap did not disturb + Langdon as much as it might otherwise have done, and he continued to climb + over the rocks until he came to what appeared to be a broad, smooth ledge + leading around the sandstone spur of the mountain. A hundred feet farther + on he found that the ledge ended in a perpendicular wall of rock. From this + point, however, he had a splendid view of the broad sweep of country + between the two ranges to the south. He sat down, pulled out his pipe, and + prepared to enjoy the magnificent panorama under him while he was getting + his wind. +</p> +<p> + Through his glasses he could see for miles, and what he looked upon was an + unhunted country. Scarcely half a mile away a band of caribou was filing + slowly across the bottom toward the green slopes to the west. He caught the + glint of many ptarmigan wings in the sunlight below. After a time, fully + two miles away, he saw sheep grazing on a thinly verdured slide. +</p> +<p> + He wondered how many valleys there were like this in the vast reaches of + the Canadian mountains that stretched three hundred miles from sea to + prairie and a thousand miles north and south. Hundreds, even thousands, he + told himself, and each wonderful valley a world complete within itself; a + world filled with its own life, its own lakes and streams and forests, its + own joys and its own tragedies. +</p> +<p> + Here in this valley into which he gazed was the same soft droning and the + same warm sunshine that had filled all the other valleys; and yet here, + also, was a different life. Other bears ranged the slopes that he could see + dimly with his naked eyes far to the west and north. It was a new domain, + filled with other promise and other mystery, and he forgot time and hunger + as he sat lost in the enchantment of it. +</p> +<p> + It seemed to Langdon that these hundreds or thousands of valleys would + never grow old for him; that he could wander on for all time, passing from + one into another, and that each would possess its own charm, its own + secrets to be solved, its own life to be learned. To him they were largely + inscrutable; they were cryptic, as enigmatical as life itself, hiding their + treasures as they droned through the centuries, giving birth to multitudes + of the living, demanding in return other multitudes of the dead. As he + looked off through the sunlit space he wondered what the story of this + valley would be, and how many volumes it would fill, if the valley itself + could tell it. +</p> +<p> + First of all, he knew, it would whisper of the creation of a world; it + would tell of oceans torn and twisted and thrown aside—of those first + strange eons of time when there was no night, but all was day; when weird + and tremendous monsters stalked where he now saw the caribou drinking at + the creek, and when huge winged creatures half bird and half beast swept + the sky where he now saw an eagle soaring. +</p> +<p> + And then it would tell of The Change—of that terrific hour when the earth + tilted on its axis, and night came, and a tropical world was turned into a + frigid one, and new kinds of life were born to fill it. +</p> +<p> + It must have been long after that, thought Langdon, that the first bear + came to replace the mammoth, the mastodon, and the monstrous beasts that + had been their company. And that first bear was the forefather of the + grizzly he and Bruce were setting forth to kill the next day! +</p> +<p> + So engrossed was Langdon in his thoughts that he did not hear a sound + behind him. And then something roused him. +</p> +<p> + It was as if one of the monsters he had been picturing in his imagination + had let out a great breath close to him. He turned slowly, and the next + moment his heart seemed to stop its beating; his blood seemed to grow cold + and lifeless in his veins. +</p> +<p> + Barring the ledge not more than fifteen feet from him, his great jaws + agape, his head moving slowly from side to side as he regarded his trapped + enemy, stood Thor, the King of the Mountains! +</p> +<p> + And in that space of a second or two Langdon's hands involuntarily gripped + at his broken rifle, and he decided that he was doomed! +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH17">CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</a></h3> +<p> + A broken, choking breath—a stifled sound that was scarcely a cry—was all + that came from Langdon's lips as he saw the monstrous grizzly looking at + him. In the ten seconds that followed he lived hours. +</p> +<p> + His first thought was that he was powerless—utterly powerless. He could + not even run, for the rock wall was behind him; he could not fling himself + valleyward, for there was a sheer fall of a hundred feet on that side. He + was face to face with death, a death as terrible as that which had + overtaken the dogs. +</p> +<p> + And yet in these last moments Langdon did not lose himself in terror. He + noted even the redness in the avenging grizzly's eyes. He saw the naked + scat along his back where one of his bullets had plowed; he saw the bare + spot where another of his bullets had torn its way through Thor's + fore-shoulder. And he believed, as he observed these things, that Thor had + deliberately trailed him, that the bear had followed him along the ledge + and had cornered him here that he might repay in full measure what had been + inflicted upon him. +</p> +<p> + Thor advanced—just one step; and then in that slow, graceful movement, + reared himself to full height. Langdon, even then, thought that he was + magnificent. On his part, the man did not move; he looked steadily up at + Thor, and he had made up his mind what to do when the great beast lunged + forward. He would fling himself over the edge. Down below there was one + chance in a thousand for life. There might be a ledge or a projecting spur + to catch him. +</p> +<p> + And Thor! +</p> +<p> + Suddenly—unexpectedly—he had come upon man! This was the creature that + had hunted him, this was the creature that had hurt him—and it was so near + that he could reach out with his paw and crush it! And how weak, and white, + and shrinking it looked now! Where was its strange thunder? Where was its + burning lightning? Why did it make no sound? +</p> +<p> + Even a dog would have done more than this creature, for the dog would have + shown its fangs; it would have snarled, it would have fought. But this + thing that was man did nothing. And a great, slow doubt swept through + Thor's massive head. Was it really this shrinking, harmless, terrified + thing that had hurt him? He smelled the man-smell. It was thick. And yet + this time there came with it no hurt. +</p> +<p> + And then, slowly again, Thor came down to all fours. Steadily he looked at + the man. +</p> +<p> + Had Langdon moved then he would have died. But Thor was not, like man, a + murderer. For another half-minute he waited for a hurt, for some sign of + menace. Neither came, and he was puzzled. His nose swept the ground, and + Langdon saw the dust rise where the grizzly's hot breath stirred it. And + after that, for another long and terrible thirty seconds, the bear and the + man looked at each other. +</p> +<p> + Then very slowly—and doubtfully—Thor half turned. He growled. His lips + drew partly back. Yet he saw no reason to fight, for that shrinking, + white-faced pigmy crouching on the rock made no movement to offer him + battle. He saw that he could not go on, for the ledge was blocked by the + mountain wall. Had there been a trail the story might have been different + for Langdon. As it was, Thor disappeared slowly in the direction from which + he had come, his great head hung low, his long claws click, click, clicking + like ivory castanets as he went. +</p> +<p> + Not until then did it seem to Langdon that he breathed again, and that his + heart resumed its beating. He gave a great sobbing gasp. He rose to his + feet, and his legs seemed weak. He waited—one minute, two, three; and then + he stole cautiously to the twist in the ledge around which Thor had gone. +</p> +<p> + The rocks were clear, and he began to retrace his own steps toward the + meadowy break, watching and listening, and still clutching the broken parts + of his rifle. When he came to the edge of the plain he dropped down behind + a huge boulder. +</p> +<p> + Three hundred yards away Thor was ambling slowly over the crest of the dip + toward the eastward valley. Not until the bear reappeared on the farther + ridge of the hollow, and then vanished again, did Langdon follow. +</p> +<p> + When he reached the slope on which he had hobbled his horse Thor was no + longer in sight. The horse was where he had left it. Not until he was in + the saddle did Langdon feel that he was completely safe. Then he laughed, a + nervous, broken, joyous sort of laugh, and as he scanned the valley he + filled his pipe with fresh tobacco. +</p> +<p> + "You great big god of a bear!" he whispered, and every fibre in him was + trembling in a wonderful excitement as he found voice for the first time. + "You—you monster with a heart bigger than man!" And then he added, under + his breath, as if not conscious that he was speaking: "If I'd cornered you + like that I'd have killed you! And you! You cornered me, and let me live!" +</p> +<p> + He rode toward camp, and as he went he knew that this day had given the + final touch to the big change that had been working in him. He had met the + King of the Mountains; he had stood face to face with death, and in the + last moment the four-footed thing he had hunted and maimed had been + merciful. He believed that Bruce would not understand; that Bruce could not + understand; but unto himself the day and the hour had brought its meaning + in a way that he would not forget so long as he lived, and he knew that + hereafter and for all time he would not again hunt the life of Thor, or the + lives of any of his kind. +</p> +<p> + Langdon reached the camp and prepared himself some dinner, and as he ate + this, with Muskwa for company, he made new plans for the days and weeks + that were to follow. He would send Bruce back to overtake Metoosin the next + day, and they would no longer hunt the big grizzly. They would go on to the + Skeena and possibly even up to the edge of the Yukon, and then swing + eastward into the caribou country some time early in September, hitting + back toward civilization on the prairie side of the Rockies. He would take + Muskwa with them. Back in the land of men and cities they would be great + friends. It did not occur to him just then what this would mean for Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + It was two o'clock, and he was still dreaming of new and unknown trails + into the North when a sound came to rouse and disturb him. For a few + minutes he paid no attention to it, for it seemed to be only a part of the + droning murmur of the valley. But slowly and steadily it rose above this, + and at last he got up from where he was lying with his back to a tree and + walked out from the timber, where he could hear more plainly. +</p> +<p> + Muskwa followed him, and when Langdon stopped the tan-faced cub also + stopped. His little ears shot out inquisitively. He turned his head to the + north. From that direction the sound was coming. +</p> +<p> + In another moment Langdon had recognized it, and yet even then he told + himself that his ears must be playing him false. It could not be the + barking of dogs! By this time Bruce and Metoosin were far to the south with + the pack; at least Metoosin should be, and Bruce was on his return to the + camp! Quickly the sound grew more distinct, and at last he knew that he + could not be mistaken. The dogs were coming up the valley. Something had + turned Bruce and Metoosin northward instead of into the south. And the pack + was giving tongue—that fierce, heated baying which told him they were + again on the fresh spoor of game. A sudden thrill shot through him. There + could be but one living thing in the length and breadth of the valley that + Bruce would set the dogs after, and that was the big grizzly! +</p> +<p> + For a few moments longer Langdon stood and listened. Then he hurried back + to camp, tied Muskwa to his tree, armed himself with another rifle, and + resaddled his horse. Five minutes later he was riding swiftly in the + direction of the range where a short time before Thor had given him his + life. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH18">CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</a></h3> +<p> + Thor heard the dogs when they were a mile away. There were two reasons why + he was even less in a mood to run from them now than a few days before. Of + the dogs alone he had no more fear than if they had been so many badgers, + or so many whistlers piping at him from the rocks. He had found them all + mouth and little fang, and easy to kill. It was what followed close after + them that disturbed him. But to-day he had stood face to face with the + thing that had brought the strange scent into his valleys, and it had not + offered to hurt him, and he had refused to kill it. Besides, he was again + seeking Iskwao, the she-bear, and man is not the only animal that will risk + his life for love. +</p> +<p> + After killing his last dog at dusk of that fatal day when they had pursued + him over the mountain Thor had done just what Bruce thought that he would + do, and instead of continuing southward had made a wider detour toward the + north, and the third night after the fight and the loss of Muskwa he found + Iskwao again. In the twilight of that same evening Pipoonaskoos had died, + and Thor had heard the sharp cracking of Bruce's automatic. All that night + and the next day and the night that followed he spent with Iskwao, and then + he left her once more. A third time he was seeking her when he found + Langdon in the trap on the ledge, and he had not yet got wind of her when + he first heard the baying of the dogs on his trail. +</p> +<p> + He was travelling southward, which brought him nearer the hunters' camp. He + was keeping to the high slopes where there were little dips and meadows, + broken by patches of shale, deep coulees, and occasionally wild upheavals + of rock. He was keeping the wind straight ahead so that he would not fail + to catch the smell of Iskwao when he came near her, and with the baying of + the dogs he caught no scent of the pursuing beasts, or of the two men who + were riding behind them. +</p> +<p> + At another time he would have played his favourite trick of detouring so + that the danger would be ahead of him, with the wind in his favour. Caution + had now become secondary to his desire to find his mate. The dogs were + less than half a mile away when he stopped suddenly, sniffed the air for a + moment, and then went on swiftly until he was halted by a narrow ravine. +</p> +<p> + Up that ravine Iskwao was coming from a dip lower down the mountain, and + she was running. The yelping of the pack was fierce and close when Thor + scrambled down in time to meet her as she rushed upward. Iskwao paused for + a single moment, smelled noses with Thor, and then went on, her ears laid + back flat and sullen and her throat filled with growling menace. +</p> +<p> + Thor followed her, and he also growled. He knew that his mate was fleeing + from the dogs, and again that deadly and slowly increasing wrath swept + through him as he climbed after her higher up the mountain. +</p> +<p> + In such an hour as this Thor was at his worst. He was a fighter when + pursued as the dogs had pursued him a week before—but he was a demon, + terrible and without mercy, when danger threatened his mate. +</p> +<p> + He fell farther and farther behind Iskwao, and twice lie turned, his fangs + gleaming under drawn lips, and his defiance rolling back upon his enemies + in low thunder. +</p> +<p> + When he came up out of the coulee he was in the shadow of the peak, and + Iskwao had already disappeared in her skyward scramble. Where she had gone + was a wild chaos of rock-slide and the piled-up débris of fallen and + shattered masses of sandstone crag. The sky-line was not more than three + hundred yards above him. He looked up. Iskwao was among the rocks, and here + was the place to fight. The dogs were close upon him now. They were coming + up the last stretch of the coulee, baying loudly. Thor turned about, and + waited for them. +</p> +<p> + Half a mile to the south, looking through his glasses, Langdon saw Thor, + and at almost the same instant the dogs appeared over the edge of the + coulee. He had ridden halfway up the mountain; from that point he had + climbed higher, and was following a well-beaten sheep trail at about the + same altitude as Thor. From where he stood the valley lay under his glasses + for miles. He did not have far to look to discover Bruce and the Indian. + They were dismounting at the foot of the coulee, and as he gazed they ran + quickly into it and disappeared. +</p> +<p> + Again Langdon swung back to Thor. The dogs were holding him now, and he + knew there was no chance of the grizzly killing them in that open space. + Then he saw movement among the rocks higher up, and a low cry of + understanding broke from his lips as he made out Iskwao climbing steadily + toward the ragged peak. He knew that this second bear was a female. The big + grizzly—her mate—had stopped to fight. And there was no hope for him if + the dogs succeeded in holding him for a matter of ten or fifteen minutes. + Bruce and Metoosin would appear in that time over the rim of the coulee at + a range of less than a hundred yards! +</p> +<p> + Langdon thrust his binoculars in their case and started at a run along the + sheep trail. For two hundred yards his progress was easy, and then the + patch broke into a thousand individual tracks on a slope of soft and + slippery shale, and it took him five minutes to make the next fifty yards. +</p> +<p> + The trail hardened again. He ran on pantingly, and for another five minutes + the shoulder of a ridge hid Thor and the dogs from him. When he came over + that ridge and ran fifty yards, down the farther side of it, he stopped + short. Further progress was barred by a steep ravine. He was five hundred + yards from where Thor stood with his back to the rocks and his huge head to + the pack. +</p> +<p> + Even as he looked, struggling to get breath enough to shout, Langdon + expected to see Bruce and Metoosin appear out of the coulee. It flashed + upon him then that even if he could make them hear it would be impossible + for them to understand him. Bruce would not guess that he wanted to spare + the beast they had been hunting for almost two weeks. +</p> +<p> + Thor had rushed the dogs a full twenty yards toward the coulee when Langdon + dropped quickly behind a rock. There was only one way of saving him now, if + he was not too late. The pack had retreated a few yards down the slope, and + he aimed at the pack. One thought only filled his brain—he must sacrifice + his dogs or let Thor die. And that day Thor had given him his life! +</p> +<p> + There was no hesitation as he pressed the trigger. It was a long shot, and + the first bullet threw up a cloud of dust fifty feet short of the + Airedales. He fired again, and missed. The third time his rifle cracked + there answered it a sharp yelp of pain which Laagdon himself did not hear. + One of the dogs rolled over and over down the slope. +</p> +<p> + The reports of the shots alone had not stirred Thor, but now when he saw + one of his enemies crumple up and go rolling down the mountain he turned + slowly toward the safety of the rocks. A fourth and then a fifth shot + followed, and at the fifth the yelping dogs dropped back toward the coulee, + one of them limping with a shattered fore-foot. +</p> +<p> + Langdon sprang upon the boulder over which he had rested his gun, and his + eyes caught the sky-line. Iskwao had just reached the top. She paused for a + moment and looked down. Then she disappeared. +</p> +<p> + Thor was now hidden among the boulders and broken masses of sandstone, + following her trail. Within two minutes after the grizzly disappeared Bruce + and Metoosin scrambled up over the edge of the coulee. From where they + stood even the sky-line was within fairly good shooting distance, and + Langdon suddenly began shouting excitedly, waving his arms, and pointing + downward. +</p> +<p> + Bruce and Metoosin were caught by his ruse, in spite of the fact that the + dogs were again giving fierce tongue close to the rocks among which Thor + had gone. They believed that from where he stood Langdon could see the + progress of the bear, and that it was running toward the valley. Not until + they were another hundred yards down the slope did they stop and look back + at Langdon to get further directions. From his rock Langdon was pointing to + the sky-line. +</p> +<p> + Thor was just going over. He paused for a moment, as Iskwao had stopped, + and took one last look at man. +</p> +<p> + And Langdon, as he saw the last of him, waved his hat and shouted, "Good + luck to you, old man—good luck!" +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH19">CHAPTER NINETEEN</a></h3> +<p> + That night Langdon and Bruce made their new plans, while Metoosin sat + aloof, smoking in stolid silence, and gazing now and then at Langdon as if + he could not yet bring himself to the point of believing what had happened + that afternoon. Thereafter through many moons Metoosin would never forget + to relate to his children and his grandchildren and his friends of the + tepee tribes how he had once hunted with a white man who had shot his own + dogs to save the life of a grizzly bear. Langdon was no longer the same old + Langdon to him, and after this hunt Metoosin knew that he would never hunt + with him again. For Langdon was <i>keskwao</i> now. Something had gone wrong in + his head. The Great Spirit had taken away his heart and had given it to a + grizzly bear, and over his pipe Metoosin watched him cautiously. This + suspicion was confirmed when he saw Bruce and Langdon making a cage out of + a cowhide pannier and realized that the cub was to accompany them on their + long journey. There was no doubt in his mind now. Langdon was "queer," and + to an Indian that sort of queerness boded no good to man. +</p> +<p> + The next morning at sunrise the outfit was ready for its long trail into + the northland. Bruce and Langdon led the way up the slope and over the + divide into the valley where they had first encountered Thor, the train + filing picturesquely behind them, with Metoosin bringing up the rear. In + his cowhide pannier rode Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + Langdon was satisfied and happy. +</p> +<p> + "It was the best hunt of my life," he said to Bruce. "I'll never be sorry + we let him live." +</p> +<p> + "You're the doctor," said Bruce rather irreverently. "If I had my way about + it his hide would be back there on Dishpan. Almost any tourist down on the + line of rail would jump for it at a hundred dollars." +</p> +<p> + "He's worth several thousand to me alive," replied Langdon, with which + enigmatic retort he dropped behind to see how Muskwa was riding. +</p> +<p> + The cub was rolling and pitching about in his pannier like a raw amateur + in a howdab on an elephant's back, and after contemplating him for a few + moments Langdon caught up with Bruce again. +</p> +<p> + Half a dozen times during the next two or three hours he visited Muskwa, + and each time that he returned to Bruce he was quieter, as if debating + something with himself. +</p> +<p> + It was nine o'clock when they came to what was undoubtedly the end of + Thor's valley. A mountain rose up squarely in the face of it, and the + stream they were following swung sharply to the westward into a narrow + canyon. On the east rose a green and undulating slope up which the horses + could easily travel, and which would take the outfit into a new valley in + the direction of the Driftwood. This course Bruce decided to pursue. +</p> +<p> + Halfway up the slope they stopped to give the horses a breathing spell. In + his cowhide prison Muskwa whimpered pleadingly. Langdon heard, but he + seemed to pay no attention. He was looking steadily back into the valley. + It was glorious in the morning sun. He could see the peaks under which lay + the cool, dark lake in which Thor had fished; for miles the slopes were + like green velvet and there came to him as he looked the last droning music + of Thor's world. It struck him in a curious way as a sort of anthem, a + hymnal rejoicing that he was going, and that he was leaving things as they + were before he came. And yet, <i>was</i> he leaving things as they had been? Did + his ears not catch in that music of the mountains something of sadness, of + grief, of plaintive prayer? +</p> +<p> + And again, close to him, Muskwa whimpered softly. +</p> +<p> + Then Langdon turned to Bruce. +</p> +<p> + "It's settled," he said, and his words had a decisive ring in them. "I've + been trying to make up my mind all the morning, and it's made up now. You + and Metoosin go on when the horses get their wind. I'm going to ride down + there a mile or so and free the cub where he'll find his way back home!" +</p> +<p> + He did not wait for arguments or remarks, and Bruce made none. He took + Muskwa in his arms and rode back into the south. +</p> +<p> + A mile up the valley Langdon came to a wide, open meadow dotted with clumps + of spruce and willows and sweet with the perfume of flowers. Here he + dismounted, and for ten minutes sat on the ground with Muskwa. From his + pocket he drew forth a small paper bag and fed the cub its last sugar. A + thick lump grew in his throat as Muskwa's soft little nose muzzled the palm + of his hand, and when at last he jumped up and sprang into his saddle there + was a mist in his eyes. He tried to laugh. Perhaps he was weak. But he + loved Muskwa, and he knew that he was leaving more than a human friend in + this mountain valley. +</p> +<p> + "Good-bye, old fellow," he said, and his voice was choking. "Good-bye, + little Spitfire! Mebby some day I'll come back and see you, and you'll be a + big, fierce bear—but I won't shoot—never—never—" +</p> +<p> + He rode fast into the north. Three hundred yards away he turned his head + and looked back. Muskwa was following, but losing ground. Langdon waved his + hand. +</p> +<p> + "Good-bye!" he called through the lump in his throat. "Good-bye!" +</p> +<p> + Half an hour later he looked down from the top of the slope through his + glasses. He saw Muskwa, a black dot. The cub had stopped, and was waiting + confidently for him to return. +</p> +<p> + And trying to laugh again, but failing dismally, Langdon rode over the + divide and out of Muskwa's life. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH20">CHAPTER TWENTY</a></h3> +<p> + For a good half-mile Muskwa followed over the trail of Langdon. He ran at + first; then he walked; finally he stopped entirely and sat down like a dog, + facing the distant slope. Had Langdon been afoot he would not have halted + until he was tired. But the cub had not liked his pannier prison. He had + been tremendously jostled and bounced about, and twice the horse that + carried him had shaken himself, and those shakings had been like earthquakes + to Muskwa. He knew that the cage as well as Langdon was ahead of him. He + sat for a time and whimpered wistfully, but he went no farther. He was sure + that the friend he had grown to love would return after a little. He always + came back. He had never failed him. So he began to hunt about for a spring + beauty or a dog-tooth violet, and for some time he was careful not to stray + very far away from where the outfit had passed. +</p> +<p> + All that day the cub remained in the flower-strewn meadows under the + slope; it was very pleasant in the sunshine, and he found more than one + patch of the bulbous roots he liked. He dug, and he filled himself, and he + took a nap in the afternoon; but when the sun began to go down and the + heavy shadows of the mountain darkened the valley he began to grow afraid. +</p> +<p> + He was still a very small baby of a cub, and only that one dreadful night + after his mother had died had he spent entirely alone. Thor had replaced + mother, and Langdon had taken the place of Thor, so that until now he had + never felt the loneliness and emptiness of darkness. He crawled under a + clump of thorn close to the trail, and continued to wait, and listen, and + sniff expectantly. The stars came out clear and brilliant, but to-night + their lure was not strong enough to call him forth. Not until dawn did he + steal out cautiously from his shelter of thorn. +</p> +<p> + The sun gave him courage and confidence again and he began wandering back + through the valley, the scent of the horse-trail growing fainter and + fainter until at last it disappeared entirely. That day Muskwa ate some + grass and a few dog-tooth violet roots, and when the second night came he + was abreast of the slope over which the outfit had come from the valley in + which were Thor and Iskwao. He was tired and hungry, and he was utterly + lost. +</p> +<p> + That night he slept in the end of a hollow log. The next day he went on, + and for many days and many nights after that he was alone in the big + valley. He passed close to the pool where Thor and he had met the old bear, + and he nosed hungrily among the fishbones; he skirted the edge of the dark, + deep lake; he saw the shadowy things fluttering in the gloom of the forest + again; he passed over the beaver dam, and he slept for two nights close to + the log-jam from which he had watched Thor throw out their first fish. He + was almost forgetting Langdon now, and was thinking more and more about + Thor and his mother. He wanted them. He wanted them more than he had ever + wanted the companionship of man, for Muskwa was fast becoming a creature of + the wild again. +</p> +<p> + It was the beginning of August before the cub came to the break in the + valley and climbed up the slope where Thor had first heard the thunder and + had first felt the sting of the white men's guns. In these two weeks Muskwa + had grown rapidly, in spite of the fact that he often went to bed on an + empty stomach; and he was no longer afraid of the dark. Through the deep, + sunless canyon above the clay wallow he went, and as there was only one way + out he came at last to the summit of the break over which Thor had gone, + and over which Langdon and Bruce had followed in close pursuit. And the + other valley—his home—lay under Muskwa. +</p> +<p> + Of course he did not recognize it. He saw and smelled in it nothing that + was familiar. But it was such a beautiful valley, and so abundantly filled + with plenty and sunshine, that he did not hurry through it. He found whole + gardens of spring beauties and dog-tooth violets. And on the third day he + made his first real kill. He almost stumbled over a baby whistler no larger + than a red squirrel, and before the little creature could escape he was + upon it. It made him a splendid feast. +</p> +<p> + It was fully a week before he passed along the creek-bottom close under the + slope where his mother had died. If he had been travelling along the crest + of the slope he would have found her bones, picked clean by the wild + things. It was another week before he came to the little meadow where Thor + had killed the bull caribou and the big black bear. +</p> +<p> + And now Muskwa knew that he was home! +</p> +<p> + For two days he did not travel two hundred yards from the scene of feast + and battle, and night and day he was on the watch for Thor. Then he had to + seek farther for food, but each afternoon when the mountains began to throw + out long shadows he would return to the clump of trees in which they had + made the cache that the black bear robber had despoiled. +</p> +<p> + One day he went farther than usual in his quest for roots. He was a good + half-mile from the place he had made home, and he was sniffing about the + end of a rock when a great shadow fell suddenly upon him. He looked up, and + for a full half-minute he stood transfixed, his heart pounding and jumping + as it had never pounded and jumped before in his life. Within five feet of + him stood Thor! The big grizzly was as motionless as he, looking at him + steadily. And then Muskwa gave a puppy-like whine of joy and ran forward. + Thor lowered his huge head, and for another half-minute they stood without + moving, with Thor's nose buried in the hair on Muskwa's back. After that + Thor went up the slope as if the cub had never been lost at all, and Muskwa + followed him happily. +</p> +<p> + Many days of wonderful travel and of glorious feasting came after this, and + Thor led Muskwa into a thousand new places in the two valleys and the + mountains between. There were great fishing days, and there was another + caribou killed over the range, and Muskwa grew fatter and fatter and + heavier and heavier until by the middle of September he was as large as a + good-sized dog. +</p> +<p> + Then came the berries, and Thor knew where they all grew low down in the + valleys—first the wild red raspberries, then the soap berries, and after + those the delicious black currants which grew in the cool depths of the + forests and were almost as large as cherries and nearly as sweet as the + sugar which Langdon had fed Muskwa. Muskwa liked the black currants best of + all. They grew in thick, rich clusters; there were no leaves on the bushes + that were loaded with them, and he could pick and eat a quart in five + minutes. +</p> +<p> + But at last the time came when there were no berries. This was in October. + The nights were very cold, and for whole days at a time the sun would not + shine, and the skies were dark and heavy with clouds. On the peaks the snow + was growing deeper and deeper, and it never thawed now up near the + sky-line. Snow fell in the valley, too—at first just enough to make a + white carpet that chilled Muskwa's feet, but it quickly disappeared. Raw + winds began to come out of the north, and in place of the droning music of + the valley in summertime there were now shrill wailings and screechings at + night, and the trees made mournful sounds. +</p> +<p> + To Muskwa the whole world seemed changing. He wondered in these chill and + dark days why Thor kept to the windswept slopes when he might have found + shelter in the bottoms. And Thor, if he explained to him at all, told him + that winter was very near, and that these slopes were their last feeding + grounds. In the valleys the berries were gone; grass and roots alone were + no longer nourishing enough for their bodies; they could no longer waste + time in seeking ants and grubs; the fish were in deep water. It was the + season when the caribou were keen-scented as foxes and swift as the wind. + Only along the slopes lay the dinners they were sure of—famine-day dinners + of whistlers and gophers. Thor dug for them now, and in this digging Muskwa + helped as much as he could. More than once they turned out wagonloads of + earth to get at the cozy winter sleeping quarters of a whistler family, and + sometimes they dug for hours to capture three or four little gophers no + larger than red squirrels, but lusciously fat. +</p> +<p> + Thus they lived through the last days of October into November. And now the + snow and the cold winds and the fierce blizzards from the north came in + earnest, and the ponds and lakes began to freeze over. Still Thor hung to + the slopes, and Muskwa shivered with the cold at night and wondered if the + sun was never going to shine again. +</p> +<p> + One day about the middle of November Thor stopped in the very act of + digging out a family of whistlers, went straight down into the valley, and + struck southward in a most businesslike way. They were ten miles from the + clay-wallow canyon when they started, but so lively was the pace set by the + big grizzly that they reached it before dark that same afternoon. +</p> +<p> + For two days after this Thor seemed to have no object in life at all. + There was nothing in the canyon to eat, and he wandered about among the + rocks, smelling and listening and deporting himself generally in a fashion + that was altogether mystifying to Muskwa. In the afternoon of the second + day Thor stopped in a dump of jackpines under which the ground was strewn + with fallen needles. He began to eat these needles. They did not look good + to Muskwa, but something told the cub that he should do as Thor was doing; + so he licked them up and swallowed them, not knowing that it was nature's + last preparation for his long sleep. +</p> +<p> + It was four o'clock when they came to the mouth of the deep cavern in which + Thor was born, and here again Thor paused, sniffing up and down the wind, + and waiting for nothing in particular. +</p> +<p> + It was growing dark. A wailing storm hung over the canyon. Biting winds + swept down from the peaks, and the sky was black and full of snow. +</p> +<p> + For a minute the grizzly stood with his head and shoulders in the cavern + door. Then he entered. Muskwa followed. Deep back they went through a + pitch-black gloom, and it grew warmer and warmer, and the wailing of the + wind died away until it was only a murmur. +</p> +<p> + It took Thor at least half an hour to arrange himself just as he wanted to + sleep. Then Muskwa curled up beside him. The cub was very warm and very + comfortable. +</p> +<p> + That night the storm raged, and the snow fell deep. It came up the canyon + in clouds, and it drifted down through the canyon roof in still thicker + clouds, and all the world was buried deep. When morning came there was no + cavern door, there were no rocks, and no black and purple of tree and + shrub. All was white and still, and there was no longer the droning music + in the valley. +</p> +<p> + Deep back in the cavern Muskwa moved restlessly. Thor heaved a deep sigh. + After that long and soundly they slept. And it may be that they dreamed. +</p> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="CH21">THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN </a></h3> +<p> + "You are going up from among a people who have many gods to a people who + have but one," said Ransom quietly, looking across at the other. "It would + be better for you if you turned back. I've spent four years in the + Government service, mostly north of Fifty-three, and I know what I'm + talking about. I've read all of your books carefully, and I tell you + now—go back. If you strike up into the Bay country, as you say you're + going to, every dream of socialism you ever had will be shattered, and you + will laugh at your own books. Go back!" +</p> +<p> + Roscoe's fine young face lighted up with a laugh at his old college chum's + seriousness. +</p> +<p> + "You're mistaken, Ranny," he said. "I'm not a socialist but a sociologist. + There's a distinction, isn't there? I don't believe that my series of books + will be at all complete without a study of socialism as it exists in its + crudest form, and as it must exist up here in the North. My material for + this last book will show what tremendous progress the civilization of two + centuries on this continent has made over the lowest and wildest forms of + human brotherhood. That's my idea, Ranny. I'm an optimist. I believe that + every invention we make, that every step we take in the advancement of + science, of mental and physical uplift, brings us just so much nearer to + the Nirvana of universal love. This trip of mine among your wild people of + the North will give me a good picture of what civilization has gained." +</p> +<p> + "What it has lost, you will say a little later," replied Ransom. "See here, + Roscoe—has it ever occurred to you that brotherly love, as you call + it—the real thing—ended when civilization began? Has it ever occurred to + you that somewhere away back in the darkest ages your socialistic Nirvana + may have existed, and that you sociologists might still find traces of it, + if you would? Has the idea ever come to you that there has been a time when + the world has been better than it is to-day, and better than it ever will + be again? Will you, as a student of life, concede that the savage can teach + you a lesson? Will any of your kind? No, for you are self-appointed + civilizers, working according to a certain code." +</p> +<p> + Ransom's weather-tanned face had taken on a deeper flush, and there was a + questioning look in Roscoe's eyes, as though he were striving to look + through a veil of clouds to a picture just beyond his vision. +</p> +<p> + "If most of us believed as you believe," he said at last, "civilization + would end. We would progress no farther." +</p> +<p> + "And this civilization," said Ransom, "can there not be too much of it? Was + it any worse for God's first men to set forth and slay twenty thousand + other men, than it is for civilization's sweat-shops to slay twenty + thousand men, women, and children each year in the making of your cigars + and the things you wear? Civilization means the uplifting of man, doesn't + it, and when it ceases to uplift when it kills, robs, and disrupts in the + name of progress; when the dollar-fight for commercial and industrial + supremacy kills more people in a day than God's first people killed in a + year; when not only people, but nations, are sparring for throat-grips, can + we call it civilization any longer? This talk may all be bally rot, + Roscoe. Ninety-nine out of every hundred people will think that it is. + There are very few these days who stoop to the thought that the human soul + is the greatest of all creations, and that it is the development of the + soul, and not of engines and flying machines and warships, that measures + progress as God meant progress to be. I am saying this because I want you + to be honest when you go up among the savages, as you call them. You may + find up there the last chapter in life, as it was largely intended that + life should be in the beginning of things. And I want you to understand it, + because in your books you possess a power which should be well directed. + When I received your last letter I hunted up the best man I knew as guide + and companion for you—old Rameses, down at the Mission. He is called + Rameses because he looks like the old boy himself. You said you wanted to + learn Cree, and he'll teach it to you. He will teach you a lot of other + things, and when you look at him, especially at night beside the campfire, + you will find something in his face which will recall what I have said, and + make you think of the first people." +</p> +<p> + Roscoe, at thirty-two, had not lost his boy's enthusiasm in life, in spite + of the fact that he had studied too deeply, and had seen too much, and had + begun fighting for existence while still in bare feet. From the beginning + it seemed as though some grim monster of fate had hovered about him, making + his path as rough as it could, and striking him down whenever the + opportunity came. His own tremendous energy and ambition had carried him to + the top. +</p> +<p> + He worked himself through college, and became a success in his way. But at + no time could he remember real happiness. It had almost come to him, he + thought, a year before—in the form of a girl; but this promise had passed + like the others because, of a sudden, he found that she had shattered the + most precious of all his ideals. So he picked himself up, and, encouraged + by his virile optimism, began looking forward again. Bad luck had so worked + its hand in the moulding of him that he had come to live chiefly in + anticipation, and though this bad luck had played battledore and + shuttlecock with him, the things which he anticipated were pleasant and + beautiful. He believed that the human race was growing better, and that + each year was bringing his ideals just so much nearer to realization. More + than once he had told himself that he was living two or three centuries too + soon. Ransom, his old college chum, had been the first to suggest that he + was living some thousands of years too late. +</p> +<p> + He thought of this a great deal during the first pleasant weeks of the + autumn, which he and old Rameses spent up in the Lac la Ronge and Reindeer + Lake country. During this time he devoted himself almost entirely to the + study of Cree under Rameses' tutelage, and the more he learned of it the + more he saw the truth of what Ransom had told him once upon a time, that + the Cree language was the most beautiful in the world. At the upper end of + the Reindeer they spent a week at a Cree village, and one day Roscoe stood + unobserved and listened to the conversation of three young Cree women, who + were weaving reed baskets. They talked so quickly that he could understand + but little of what they said, but their low, soft voices were like music. + He had learned French in Paris, and had heard Italian in Rome, but never in + his life had he heard words or voices so beautiful as those which fell from + the red, full lips of the Cree girls. He thought more seriously than ever + of what Ransom had said about the first people, and the beginning of + things. +</p> +<p> + Late in October they swung westward through the Sissipuk and Burntwood + water ways to Nelson House, and at this point Rameses returned homeward. + Roscoe struck north, with two new guides, and on the eighteenth of November + the first of the two great storms which made the year of 1907 one of the + most tragic in the history of the far Northern people overtook them on + Split Lake, thirty miles from a Hudson's Bay post. It was two weeks later + before they reached this post, and here Roscoe was given the first of + several warnings. +</p> +<p> + "This has been the worst autumn we've had for years," said the factor to + him. "The Indians haven't caught half enough fish to carry them through, + and this storm has ruined the early-snow hunting in which they usually get + enough meat to last them until spring. We're stinting ourselves on our own + supplies now, and farther north the Company will soon be on famine rations + if the cold doesn't let up—and it won't. They won't want an extra mouth up + there, so you'd better turn back. It's going to be a starvation winter." +</p> +<p> + But Roscoe, knowing as little as the rest of man-kind of the terrible + famines of the northern people, which keep an area one-half as large as the + whole of Europe down to a population of thirty thousand, went on. A famine, + he argued, would give him greater opportunity for study. +</p> +<p> + Two weeks later he was at York Factory, and from there he continued to Fort + Churchill, farther up on Hudson's Bay. By the time he reached this point, + early in January, the famine of those few terrible weeks during which more + than fifteen hundred people died of starvation had begun. From the Barren + Lands to the edge of the southern watershed the earth lay under from four + to six feet of snow, and from the middle of December until late in February + the temperature did not rise above thirty degrees below zero, and remained + for the most of the time between fifty and sixty. From all points in the + wilderness reports of starvation came to the Company's posts. Traplines + could not be followed because of the intense cold. Moose, caribou, and even + the furred animals had buried themselves under the snow. Indians and + halfbreeds dragged themselves into the posts. Twice Roscoe saw mothers who + brought dead babies in their arms. One day a white trapper came in with + his dogs and sledge, and on the sledge, wrapped in a bear skin, was his + wife, who had died fifty miles back in the forest. +</p> +<p> + Late in January there came a sudden rise in the temperature, and Roscoe + prepared to take advantage of the change to strike south and westward + again, toward Nelson House. Dogs could not be had for love or money, so on + the first of February he set out on snowshoes with an Indian guide and two + weeks' supply of provisions. The fifth night, in the wild, Barren country + west of the Etawney, his Indian failed to keep up the fire, and when Roscoe + investigated he found him half dead with a strange sickness. Roscoe thought + of smallpox, the terrible plague that usually follows northern famine, and + a shiver ran through him. He made the Indian's balsam shelter snow and wind + proof, cut wood, and waited. The temperature fell again, and the cold + became intense. Each day the provisions grew less, and at last the time + came when Roscoe knew that he was standing face to face with the Great + Peril. He went farther and farther from camp in his search for game. But + there was no life. Even the brush sparrows and snow hawks were gone. Once + the thought came to him that he might take what food was left, and accept + the little chance that remained of saving himself. But the idea never got + further than a first thought. He kept to his post, and each day spent half + an hour in writing. On the twelfth day the Indian died. It was a terrible + day, the beginning of the second great storm of that winter. There was food + for another twenty-four hours, and Roscoe packed it, together with his + blankets and a little tinware. He wondered if the Indian had died of a + contagious disease. Anyway, he made up his mind to put out the warning for + others if they came that way, and over the dead Indian's balsam shelter he + planted a sapling, and at the end of the sapling he fastened a strip of red + cotton cloth—the plague-signal of the North. +</p> +<p> + Then he struck out through the deep snows and the twisting storm, knowing + that there was no more than one chance in a thousand ahead of him, and that + his one chance was to keep the wind at his back. +</p> +<hr> +<p> + This was the beginning of the wonderful experience which Roscoe Cummins + afterward described in his book "The First People and the Valley of Silent + Men." He prepared another manuscript which for personal reasons was never + published, the story of a dark-eyed girl of the First People—but this is + to come. It has to do with the last tragic weeks of this winter of 1907, in + which it was a toss-up between all things of flesh and blood in the + Northland to see which would win—life or death—and in which a pair of + dark eyes and a voice from the First People turned a sociologist into a + possible Member of Parliament. +</p> +<hr> +<p> + At the end of his first day's struggle Roscoe built himself a camp in a bit + of scrub timber, which was not much more than brush. If he had been an + older hand he would have observed that this bit of timber, and every tree + and bush that he had passed since noon, was stripped and dead on the side + that faced the north. It was a sign of the Great Barrens, and of the fierce + storms that swept over them, destroying even the life of the trees. He + cooked and ate his last food the following day, and went on. The small + timber turned to scrub, and the scrub, in time, to vast snow wastes over + which the storm swept mercilessly. All this day he looked for game, for a + flutter of bird life; he chewed bark, and in the afternoon got a mouthful + of Fox-bite, which made his throat swell until he could scarcely breathe. + At night he made tea, but had nothing to eat. His hunger was acute and + painful. It was torture the next day—the third—for the process of + starvation is a rapid one in this country where only the fittest survive on + four meals a day. He camped, built a small bush fire at night, and slept. + He almost failed to rouse himself on the morning that followed, and when he + staggered to his feet and felt the cutting sting of the storm still in his + face, and heard the swishing wail of it over the Barren, he knew that at + last the moment had come when he was standing face to face with the + Almighty. +</p> +<p> + For some strange reason he was not frightened at the situation. He found + that even over the level spaces he could scarcely drag his snow shoes, but + this had ceased to alarm him as he had been alarmed at first. He went on, + hour after hour, weaker and weaker. Within himself there was still life + which reasoned that if death were to come it could not come in a better + way. It at least promised to be painless—even pleasant. The sharp, + stinging pains of hunger, like little electrical knives piercing him, were + gone; he no longer experienced a sensation of intense cold; he almost felt + that he could lie down in the drifted snow and sleep peacefully. He knew + what it would be—a sleep without end—with the arctic foxes to pick his + bones, and so he resisted the temptation and forced himself onward. The + storm still swept straight west from Hudson's Bay, bringing with it endless + volleys of snow, round and hard as fine shot; snow that had at first seemed + to pierce his flesh, and which swished past his feet, as if trying to trip + him, and tossed itself in windrows and mountains in his path. If he could + only find timber—shelter! That was what he worked for now. When he had + last looked at his watch it was nine o'clock in the morning; now it was + late in the afternoon. It might as well have been night. The storm had long + since half blinded him. He could not see a dozen paces ahead. But the + little life in him still reasoned bravely. It was a heroic spark of life, a + fighting spark, and hard to put out. It told him that when he came to + shelter be would at least <i>feel</i> it, and that he must fight until the last. + And all this time, for ages and ages it seemed to him, he kept mumbling + over and over again Ransom's words: +</p> +<p> + <i>"Go back—Go back—Go back—-"</i> +</p> +<p> + They rang in his brain. He tried to keep step with their monotone. The + storm could not drown them. They were meaningless words to him now, but + they kept him company. Also, his rifle was meaningless, but he clung to it. + The pack on his back held no significance and no weight for him. He might + have travelled a mile or ten miles an hour and he would not have sensed the + difference. Most men would have buried themselves in the snow, and died in + comfort, dreaming the pleasant dreams which come as a sort of recompense to + the unfortunate who die of starvation and cold. But the fighting spark + commanded Roscoe to die upon his feet, if he died at all. It was this spark + which brought him at last to a bit of timber thick enough to give him + shelter from wind and snow. It burned a little more warmly then. It flared + up, and gave him new vision. And, for the first time, he realized that it + must be night. For a light was burning ahead of him, and all else was + gloom. His first thought was that it was a campfire, miles and miles away. + Then it drew nearer—until he knew that it was a light in a cabin window. + He dragged himself toward it, and when he came to the door he tried to + shout. But no sound fell from his swollen lips. It seemed an hour before he + could twist his feet out of his snowshoes. Then he groped for a latch, + pressed against the door, and plunged in. +</p> +<p> + What he saw was like a picture suddenly revealed for an instant by a + flashlight. In the cabin there were four men. Two sat at a table, directly + in front of him. One held a dice box poised in the air, and had turned a + rough, bearded face toward him. The other was a younger man, and in this + moment of lapsing consciousness it struck Roscoe as strange that he should + be clutching a can of beans between his hands. A third man stared from + where he had been looking down upon the dice-play of the other two. As + Roscoe came in he was in the act of lowering a half-filled bottle from his + lips. The fourth man sat on the edge of a bunk, with a face so white and + thin that he might have been taken for a corpse if it had not been for a + dark glare in his sunken eyes. Roscoe smelled the odor of whisky; he + smelled food. He saw no sign of welcome in the faces turned toward him, + but he advanced upon them, mumbling incoherently. And then the spark—the + fighting spark in him—gave out, and he crumpled down on the floor. He + heard a voice, which came to him—as if from a great distance, and which + said, "Who the h—l is this?" And then, after what seemed to be a long + time, he heard another voice say, "Pitch him back into the snow." +</p> +<p> + After that he lost consciousness. +</p> +<hr> +<p> + A long time before he awoke he knew that he was not in the snow, and that + hot stuff was running down his throat. When he opened his eyes there was no + longer a light burning in the cabin. It was day. He felt strangely + comfortable, but there was something in the cabin that stirred him from his + rest. It was the odour of frying bacon. He raised himself upon his elbow, + prepared to thank his deliverers, and to eat. All of his hunger had come + back. The joy of life, of anticipation, shone in his thin face as he pulled + himself up. Another face—the bearded face—red-eyed, almost animal-like in + its fierce questioning, bent over him. +</p> +<p> + "Where's your grub, pardner?" +</p> +<p> + The question was like a stab. Roscoe did not hear his own voice as he + explained. +</p> +<p> + "Got none!" The bearded man's voice was like a bellow as he turned upon the + others. +</p> +<p> + "He's got no grub!" +</p> +<p> + "We'll divvy up, Jack," came a weak voice. It was from the thin, + white-faced man who had sat corpse-like on the edge of his bunk the night + before. +</p> +<p> + "Divvy h—l!" growled the bearded man. "It's up to you—you and Scotty. + You're to blame!" +</p> +<p> + You're to blame! +</p> +<p> + The words struck upon Roscoe's ears with a chill of horror. He recalled the + voice that had suggested throwing him back into the snow. Starvation was in + the cabin. He had fallen among animals instead of men, and his body grew + cold with a chill that was more horrible than that of the snow and the + wind. He saw the thin-faced man who had spoken for him sitting again on the + edge of his bunk. Mutely he looked to the others to see which was Scotty. + He was the young man who had clutched the can of beans. It was he who was + frying bacon over the sheet iron stove. +</p> +<p> + "We'll divvy—Henry and I," he said. "I told you that last night." He + looked over at Roscoe. "Glad you're better," he greeted. "You see—you've + struck us at a bad time. We're on our last legs for grub. Our two Indians + went out to hunt a week ago and never came back. They're dead—or gone, and + we're as good as dead if the storm doesn't let up pretty soon. You can have + some of our grub—Henry's and mine." +</p> +<p> + It was a cold invitation, lacking warmth or sympathy, and Roscoe felt that + even this man wished that he had died before he reached the cabin. But the + man was human; he at least had not cast his voice with those who had wanted + to throw him back into the snow, and Roscoe tried to voice his gratitude, + and at the same time to hide his hunger. He saw that there were three thin + slices of bacon in the frying pan, and it struck him that it would be bad + taste to reveal a starvation appetite in the face of such famine. He came + up, limping, and stood on the other side of the stove from Scotty. +</p> +<p> + "You saved my life," he said, holding out a hand. "Will you shake?" +</p> +<p> + Scotty shook hands limply. +</p> +<p> + "It's h—l," he said in a low voice. "We'd have had beans this morning if + I hadn't shook dice with him last night." He nodded toward the bearded man, + who was cutting open the top of a can. "He won!" +</p> +<p> + "My God!" began Roscoe. +</p> +<p> + He didn't finish. Scotty turned the meat, and added: +</p> +<p> + "He won a square meal off me yesterday—a quarter of a pound of bacon. Day + before that he won Henry's last can of beans. He's got his share under his + blanket over there, and swears he'll shoot any one who goes to monkeying + with his bed—so you'd better fight shy of it. Thompson—he isn't up + yet—chose the whisky for <i>his</i> share, so you'd better fight shy of him, + too. Henry and I'll divvy up with you." +</p> +<p> + "Thanks," said Roscoe, the one word choking him. +</p> +<p> + Henry came from his bunk, bent and wobbling. He looked like a dying man, + and for the first time Roscoe saw that his hair was gray. He was a little + man, and his thin hands shook as he held them out over the stove, and + nodded at Roscoe. The bearded man had opened his can, and approached the + stove with a pan of water, coming in beside Roscoe without noticing him. He + brought with him a foul odour of stale tobacco smoke and whisky. After he + had put his water over the fire he turned to one of the bunks and with half + a dozen coarse epithets roused Thompson, who sat up stupidly, still half + drunk. Henry had gone to a small table, and Scotty followed him with the + bacon. But Roscoe did not move. He forgot his hunger. His pulse was beating + quickly. Sensations filled him which he had never known or imagined before. + He had known tragedy; he had investigated to what he had supposed to be the + depths of human vileness—but this that he was experiencing now stunned + him. Was it possible that these were people of his own kind? Had a madness + of some sort driven all human instincts from them? He saw Thompson's red + eyes fastened upon him, and he turned his face to escape their questioning, + stupid leer. The bearded man was turning out the can of beans he had won + from Scotty. Beyond the bearded man the door creaked, and Roscoe heard the + wail of the storm. It came to him now as a friendly sort of sound. +</p> +<p> + "Better draw up, pardner," he heard Scotty say. "Here's your share." +</p> +<p> + One of the thin slices of bacon and a hard biscuit were waiting for him on + a tin plate. He ate as ravenously as Henry and Scotty, and drank a cup of + hot tea. In two minutes the meal was over. It was terribly inadequate. The + few mouthfuls of food stirred up all his craving, and he found it + impossible to keep his eyes from the bearded man and his beans. The bearded + man, whom Scotty called Croker, was the only one who seemed well fed, and + his horror increased when Henry bent over and said to him in a low whisper: + "He didn't get my beans fair. I had three aces and a pair of deuces, an' he + took it on three fives and two sixes. When I objected he called me a liar + an' hit me. Them's my beans, or Scotty's!" There was something almost like + murder in the little man's red eyes. +</p> +<p> + Roscoe remained silent. He did not care to talk, or question. No one had + asked him who he was or whence he came, and he felt no inclination to know + more of the men he had fallen among. Croker finished, wiped his mouth with + his hand, and looked across at Roscoe. +</p> +<p> + "How about going out with me to get some wood?" he demanded. +</p> +<p> + "I'm ready," replied Roscoe. +</p> +<p> + For the first time he took notice of himself. He was lame, and sickeningly + weak, but apparently sound in other ways. The intense cold had not frozen + his ears or feet. He put on his heavy moccasins, his thick coat and fur + cap, and Croker pointed to his rifle. +</p> +<p> + "Better take that along," he said. "Can't tell what you might see." +</p> +<p> + Roscoe picked it up and the pack which lay beside it. He did not catch the + ugly leer which the bearded man turned upon Thompson. But Henry did, and + his little eyes grew smaller and blacker. On snowshoes the two men went out + into the storm, Croker carrying an axe. He led the way through the bit of + thin timber, and across a wide open over which the storm swept so fiercely + that their trail was covered behind them as they travelled. Roscoe figured + that they had gone a quarter of a mile when they came to another clump of + trees, and Croker gave him the axe. +</p> +<p> + "You can cut down some of this," he said. "It's better burning than that + back there. I'm going on for a dry log that I know of. You wait until I + come back." +</p> +<p> + Roscoe set to work upon a spruce, but he could scarcely strike out a chip. + After a little he was compelled to drop his axe, and lean against the tree, + exhausted. At intervals he resumed his cutting. It was half an hour before + the small tree fell. Then he waited for Croker. Behind him his trail was + already obliterated. After a little he raised his voice and called for + Croker. There was no reply. The wind moaned above him in the spruce tops. + It made a noise like the wash of the sea out on the open Barren. He shouted + again. And again. The truth dawned upon him slowly—but it came. Croker had + brought him out purposely—to lose him. He was saving the bacon and the + cold biscuits back in the cabin. Roscoe's hands clenched tightly, and then + they relaxed. At last he had found what he was after—his book! It would be + a terrible book, if he carried out the idea that flashed upon him now in + the wailing and twisting of the storm. And then he laughed, for it occurred + to him quickly that the idea would die—with himself. He might find the + cabin, but he would not make the effort. Once more he would fight alone and + for himself. The Spark returned to him, loyally. He buttoned himself up + closely, saw that his snowshoes were securely fastened, and struck out once + more with his back to the storm. He was at least a trifle better off for + meeting with the flesh and blood of his kind. +</p> +<p> + The clump of timber thinned out, and Roscoe struck out boldly into the low + bush. As he went, he wondered what would happen in the cabin. He believed + that Henry, of the four, would not pull through alive, and that Croker + would come out best. It was not until the following summer that he learned + the facts of Henry's madness, and of the terrible manner in which he + avenged himself on Croker by sticking a knife under the latter's ribs. +</p> +<p> + For the first time in his life Roscoe found himself in a position to + measure accurately the amount of energy contained in a slice of bacon and a + cold biscuit. It was not much. Long before noon his old weakness was upon + him again. He found even greater difficulty in dragging his feet over the + snow, and it seemed now as though all ambition had left him, and that even + the fighting spark was becoming disheartened. He made up his mind to go on + until the arctic gloom of night began mingling with the storm; then he + would stop, build a fire, and go to sleep in its warmth. He would never + wake up, and there would be no sensation of discomfort in his dying. +</p> +<p> + During the afternoon he passed out of the scrub into a rougher country. His + progress was slower, but more comfortable, for at times he found himself + protected from the wind. A gloom darker and more sombre than that of the + storm was falling about him when he came to what appeared to be the end of + the Barren. The earth dropped away from under his feet, and far below him, + in a ravine shut out from wind and storm, he saw the black tops of thick + spruce. What life was left in him leaped joyously, and he began to scramble + downward. His eyes were no longer fit to judge distance or chance, and he + slipped. He slipped a dozen times in the first five minutes, and then there + came the time when he did not make a recovery, but plunged down the side of + the mountain like a rock. He stopped with a terrific jar, and for the first + time during the fall he wanted to cry out with pain. But the voice that he + heard did not come from his own lips. It was another voice—and then two, + three, many of them. His dazed eyes caught glimpses of dark objects + floundering in the deep snow about him, and just beyond these objects were + four or five tall mounds of snow, like tents, arranged in a circle. A + number of times that winter Roscoe had seen mounds of snow like these, and + he knew what they meant. He had fallen into an Indian village. He tried to + call out the words of greeting that Rameses had taught him, but he had no + tongue. Then the floundering figures caught him up, and he was carried to + the circle of snow-mounds. The last that he knew was that warmth was + entering his lungs, and that once again there came to him the low, sweet + music of a Cree girl's voice. +</p> +<p> + It was a face that he first saw after that, a face that seemed to come to + him slowly from out of night, approaching nearer and nearer until he knew + that it was a girl's face, with great, dark, shining eyes whose lustre + suffused him with warmth and a strange happiness. It was a face of + wonderful beauty, he thought—of a wild sort of beauty, yet with something + so gentle in the shining eyes that he sighed restfully. In these first + moments of his returning consciousness the whimsical thought came to him + that he was dying, and the face was a part of a pleasant dream. If that + were not so he had fallen at last among friends. His eyes opened wider, he + moved, and the face drew back. Movement stimulated returning life, and + reason rehabilitated itself in great bounds. In a dozen flashes he went + over all that had happened up to the point where he had fallen down the + mountain and into the Cree camp. Straight above him he saw a funnel-like + peak through which there drifted a blue film of smoke. He was in a wigwam. + It was warm and exceedingly comfortable. Wondering if he was hurt, he + moved. The movement drew a sharp exclamation of pain from him. It was the + first real sound he had made, and in an instant the face was over him + again. He saw it plainly this time, with its dark eyes and oval cheeks + framed between two great braids of black hair. A hand touched his brow cool + and gentle, and a sweet voice soothed him in half a dozen musical words. + The girl was a Cree. +</p> +<p> + At the sound of her voice an Indian woman came up beside her, looked down + at Roscoe for a moment, and then went to the door of the wigwam, speaking + in a low voice to some one who was outside. When she returned a man + followed in after her. He was old and bent, and his face was thin. His + cheek-bones shone, so tightly was the skin drawn over them. And behind him + came a younger man, as straight as a tree, with strong shoulders, and a + head set like a piece of bronze sculpture. Roscoe thought of Ransom and of + his words about old Rameses: +</p> +<p> + "You will find something in his face which will recall what I have said, + and make you think of the First People." +</p> +<p> + The second man carried in his hand a frozen fish, which he gave to the + woman. And as he gave it to her he spoke words in Cree which Roscoe + understood. +</p> +<p> + "It is the last fish." +</p> +<p> + For a moment some terrible hand gripped at Roscoe's heart and stopped its + beating. He saw the woman take the fish and cut it into two equal parts + with a knife, and one of these parts he saw her drop into a pot of boiling + water which hung over the stone fireplace built under the vent in the wall. + The girl went up and stood beside the older woman, with her back turned to + him. He opened his eyes wide, and stared. The girl was tall and slender, as + lithely and as beautifully formed as one of the northern lilies that thrust + their slender stems from between the mountain rocks. Her two heavy braids + fell down her back almost to her knees. And this girl, the woman, the two + men <i>were dividing with him their last fish</i>! +</p> +<p> + He made an effort and sat up. The younger man came to him, and put a bear + skin at his back. He had picked up some of the patois of half-blood French + and English. +</p> +<p> + "You seek," he said, "you hurt—you hungr'. You have eat soon." +</p> +<p> + He motioned with his hand to the boiling pot. There was not a ficker of + animation in his splendid face. There was something godlike in his + immobility, something that was awesome in the way he moved and breathed. + His voice, too, it seemed to Roscoe, was filled with the old, old mystery + of the beginning of things, of history that was long dead and lost for all + time. And it came upon Roscoe now, like a flood of rare knowledge + descending from a mysterious source, that he had at last discovered the key + to new life, and that through the blindness of reason, through starvation + and death, fate had led him to the Great Truth that was dying with the last + sons of the First People. For the half of the last fish was brought to + him, and he ate; and when the knowledge that he was eating life away from + these people choked him, and he thrust a part of it back, the girl herself + urged him to continue, and he finished, with her dark, glorious eyes fixed + upon him and sending warm floods through his veins. And after that the men + bolstered him up with the bear skin, and the two went out again into the + storm. The woman sat hunched before the fire, and after a little the girl + joined her and piled fresh fagots on the blaze. Then she sat beside her, + with her chin resting in the little brown palms of her hands, the fire + lighting up a half profile of her face and painting rich colour in her + deep-black hair. +</p> +<p> + For a long time there was silence, and Roscoe lay as if he were asleep. It + was not an ordinary silence, the silence of a still room, or of + emptiness—but a silence that throbbed and palpitated with an unheard life, + a silence which was thrilling because it spoke a language which Roscoe was + just beginning to understand. The fire grew redder, and the cone-shaped + vacancy at the top of the tepee grew duskier, so Roscoe knew that night was + falling outside. Far above he could hear the storm wailing over the top of + the mountain. Redder and redder grew the birch flame that lighted up the + profile of the girl's face. Once she turned, so that he caught the lustrous + darkness of her eyes upon him. He could not hear the breath of the two in + front of the fire. He heard no sound outside except that of the wind and + the trees, and all grew as dark as it was silent in the snow-covered tepee, + except in front of the fire. And then, as he lay with wide-open eyes, it + seemed to Roscoe as though the stillness was broken by a sob that was + scarcely more than a sigh, and he saw the girl's head droop a little lower + in her hands, and fancied that a shuddering tremor ran through her slender + shoulders. The fire burned low, and she reached out for more fagots. Then + she rose slowly, and turned toward him. She could not see his face in the + gloom, but the deep breathing which he feigned drew her to him, and through + his half-closed eyes he could see her face bending over him, until one of + her heavy braids slipped over her shoulder and fell upon his breast. After + a moment she sat down silently beside him, and he felt her fingers brush + gently through his tangled hair. Something in their light, soft touch + thrilled him, and he moved his hand in the darkness until it came in + contact with the big, soft braid that still lay where it had fallen across + him. He was on the point of speaking, but the fingers left his hair and + stroked as gentle as velvet over his storm-beaten face. She believed that + he was asleep, and a warm flood of shame swept through him at the thought + of his hypocrisy. The birch flared up suddenly, and he saw the glisten of + her hair, the glow of her eyes, and the startled change that came into them + when she saw that his own eyes were wide open, and looking up at her. + Before she could move he had caught her hand, and was holding it tighter to + his face—against his lips. The birch bark died as suddenly as it had + flared up; he heard her breathing quickly, he saw her great eyes melt away + like lustrous stars into the returning gloom, and a wild, irresistible + impulse moved him. He raised his free hand to the dark head, and drew it + down to him, holding it against his feverish face while he whispered + Rameses's prayer of thankfulness in Cree: +</p> +<p> + "The spirits bless you forever, <i>Meeani</i>." +</p> +<p> + The nearness of her, the touch of her heavy hair, the caress of her breath + stirred him still more deeply with the strange, new emotion that was born + in him, and in the darkness he found and kissed a pair of lips, soft and + warm. +</p> +<p> + The woman stirred before the fire. The girl drew back, her breath coming + almost sobbingly. And then the thought of what he had done rushed in a + flood of horror upon Roscoe. These wild people had saved his life; they had + given him to eat of their last fish; they were nursing him back from the + very threshold of death—and he had already repaid them by offering to the + Cree maiden next to the greatest insult that could come to her people. He + remembered what Rameses had told him—that the Cree girl's first kiss was + her betrothal kiss; that it was the white garment of her purity, the pledge + of her fealty forever. He lifted himself upon his elbow, but the girl had + run to the door. Voices came from outside, and the two men reëntered the + tepee. He understood enough of what was said to learn that the camp had + been holding council, and that two men were about to make an effort to + reach the nearest post. Each tepee was to furnish these two men a bit of + food to keep them alive on their terrible hazard, and the woman brought + forth the half of a fish. She cut it into quarters, and with one of the + pieces the elder man went out again into the night. The younger man spoke + to the girl. He called her Oachi, and to Roscoe's astonishment spoke in + French. +</p> +<p> + "If they do not come back, or if we do not find meat in seven days," he + said, "we will die." +</p> +<p> + Roscoe made an effort to rise, and the effort sent a rush of fire into his + head. He turned dizzy, and fell back with a groan. In an instant the girl + was at his side—ahead of the man. Her hands were at his face, her eyes + glowing again. He felt that he was falling into a deep sleep. But the eyes + did not leave him. They were wonderful eyes, glorious eyes! He dreamed of + them in the strange sleep that came to him, and they grew more and more + beautiful, shining with a light which thrilled him even in his + unconsciousness. After a time there came a black, more natural sort of + night to him. He awoke from it refreshed. It was day. The tepee was filled + with light, and for the first time he looked about him. He was alone. A + fire burned low among the stones; over it simmered a pot. The earth floor + of the tepee was covered with deer and caribou skins, and opposite him + there was another bunk. He drew himself painfully to a sitting posture and + found that it was his shoulder and hip that hurt him. He rose to his feet, + and stood balancing himself feebly when the door to the tepee was drawn + back and Oachi entered. At sight of him, standing up from his bed, she made + a quick movement to draw back, but Roscoe reached out his hands with a low + cry of pleasure. +</p> +<p> + "Oachi," he cried softly. "Come in!" He spoke in French, and Oachi's face + lighted up like sunlight. "I am better," he said. "I am well. I want to + thank you—and the others." He made a step toward her, and the strength of + his left leg gave way. He would have fallen if she had not darted to him so + quickly that she made a prop for him, and her eyes looked up into his + whitened face, big and frightened and filled with pain. +</p> +<p> + "Oo-ee-ee," she said in Cree, her red lips rounded as she saw him flinch, + and that one word, a song in a word; came to him like a flute note. +</p> +<p> + "It hurts—a little," he said. He dropped back on his bunk, and Oachi sank + upon the skins at his feet, looking up at him steadily with her wonderful, + pure eyes, her mouth still rounded, little wrinkles of tense anxiety drawn + in her forehead. Roscoe laughed. +</p> +<p> + For a few moments his soul was filled with a strange gladness. He reached + out his hand and stroked it over her shining hair, and a radiance such as + he had never seen leapt into her eyes. "You—talk—French?" he asked + slowly. +</p> +<p> + She nodded. +</p> +<p> + "Then tell me this—you are hungry—starving?" +</p> +<p> + She nodded again, and made a cup of her two small hands. "No meat. This + little—so much—flour—" Her throat trembled and her voice fluttered. But + even as she measured out their starvation her face was looking at him + joyously. And then she added, with the gladness of a child, "<i>Feesh</i>, for + you," and pointed to the simmering pot. +</p> +<p> + "For <i>ME</i>!" Roscoe looked at the pot, and then back at her. +</p> +<p> + "Oachi," he said gently, "go tell your father that I am ready to talk with + him. Ask him to come—now." +</p> +<p> + She looked at him for a moment as though she did not quite understand what + he had said, and he repeated the words. Even as he was speaking he + marvelled at the fairness of her skin, which shone with a pink flush, and + at the softness and beauty of her hair. What he saw impelled him to ask, + as she made to rise: +</p> +<p> + "Your father—your mother—is French. Is that so, Oachi?" The girl nodded + again, with the soft little Cree throat note that meant yes. Then she + slipped to her feet and ran out, and a little later there came into the + tepee the man who had first loomed up in the dusky light like a god of the + First People to Roscoe Cummins. His splendid face was a little more gaunt + than the night before, and Roscoe knew that famine came hand in hand with + him. He had seen starvation before, and he knew that it reddened the eyes + and gave the lips a grayish pallor. These things, and more, he saw in + Oachi's father. But Mukoki came in straight and erect, hiding his weakness + under the pride of his race. Fighting down his pain Roscoe rose at sight of + him and held out his hands. +</p> +<p> + "I want to thank you," he said, repeating the words he had spoken to Oachi. + "You have saved my life. But I have eyes, and I can see. You gave me of + your last fish. You have no meat. You have no flour. You are starving. + What? I have asked you to come and tell me, so that I may know how it + fares with your women and children. You will give me a council, and we will + smoke." Roscoe dropped back on his bunk. He drew forth his pipe and filled + it with tobacco. The Cree sat down mutely in the centre of the tepee. They + smoked, passing the pipe back and forth without speaking. Once Roscoe + loaded the pipe, and once the chief; and when the last puff of the last + pipeful was taken the Indian reached over his hand, and Roscoe gripped it + hard. +</p> +<p> + And then, while the storm still moaned far up over their heads, Roscoe + Cummins listened to the old, old story of the First People—the story of + starvation and of death. To him it was epic. It was terrible. But to the + other it was the mere coming and going of a natural thing, of a thing that + had existed for him and for his kind since life began, and he spoke of it + quietly and without a gesture. There had been a camp of twenty-two, and + there were now fifteen. Seven had died, four men, two women, and one child. + Each day during the great storm the men had gone out on their futile search + for game, and every few days one of them had failed to return. Thus four + had died. The dogs were eaten. Corn and fish were gone; there remained but + a little flour, and this was for the women and the children. The men had + eaten nothing but bark and roots for five days. And there seemed to be no + hope. It was death to stray far from the camp. That morning the two men had + set out for the post, but Mukoki said calmly that they would never return. + And then Roscoe spoke of Oachi, his daughter, and for the first time the + iron lines of the chief's bronze face seemed to soften, and his head bent + over a little, and his shoulders drooped. Not until then did Roscoe learn + the depths of sorrow hidden behind the splendid strength of the starving + man. Oachi's mother had been a French woman. Six months before she had died + in this tepee, and Mukoki had buried his wife up on the face of the + mountain, where the storm was moaning. After this Roscoe could not speak. + He was choking. He loaded his pipe again, and sat down close to the chief, + so that their knees and their shoulders touched, and thus, as taught him by + old Rameses, he smoked with Oachi's father the pledge of eternal + friendship, of brotherhood in life, of spirit communion in the Valley of + Silent Men. After that Mukoki left him and he crawled back upon his bunk, + weak and filled with pain, knowing that he was facing death with the + others. He was not afraid, but was filled with a great thankfulness that, + even at the price of starvation, fate had allowed him to touch at last the + edge of the fabric of his dreams. All of that day he wrote, in the hours + when he felt best. He filled page after page of the tablets which he + carried in his pack, writing feverishly and with great haste, oppressed + only by the fear that he would not be able to finish the message which he + had for the people of that other world a thousand miles away. Three times + during the morning Oachi came in and brought him the cooked fish and a + biscuit which she had made for him out of flour and meal. And each time he + said, "I am a man with the other men, Oachi. I would be a woman if I ate." +</p> +<p> + The third time Oachi knelt close down at his side, and when he refused the + food again there came a strange light into her eyes, and she said, "If you + starve—I starve!" +</p> +<p> + It was the first revelation to him. He put up his hands. They touched her + face. Some potent spirit in him carried him across all gulfs. In that + moment, thrilling, strange, he was heart and soul of the First People. In + an instant he had drifted back a thousand years, beyond the memory of + cities, of clubs, of all that went with civilization. A wild, half savage + longing filled him. One of his hands slipped to her shining hair, and + suddenly their faces lay close to each other, and he knew that in that + moment love had come to him from the fount of glory itself. +</p> +<hr> +<p> + Days followed—black days filled with the endless terrors of the storm. And + yet they were days of a strange contentment which Roscoe had never felt + before. Oachi and her father were with him a great deal in the tepee which + they had given up to him. On the third day Roscoe noticed that Oachi's + little hands were bruised and red and he found that the chief's daughter + had gone out to dig down through ice and snow with the other women after + roots. The camp lived entirely on roots now—wild flag and moose roots + ground up and cooked in a batter. On this same day, late in the afternoon, + there came a low wailing grief from one of the tepees, a moaning sound that + pitched itself to the key of the storm until it seemed to be a part of it. + A child had died, and the mother was mourning. That night another of the + camp huntsmen failed to return at dusk. +</p> +<p> + The next day Roscoe was able to move about in his tepee without pain. Oachi + and her father were with him when, for the first time, he got out his comb + and military brushes and began grooming his touselled hair. Oachi watched + him, and suddenly, seeing the wondering pleasure in her eyes, he held out + the brushes to her. "You may have them, Oachi," he said, and the girl + accepted them with a soft little cry of delight. To his amazement she began + unbraiding her hair immediately, and then she stood up before him, hidden + to her knees in her wonderful wealth of shining tresses, and Roscoe Cummins + thought in this moment that he had never seen a woman more beautiful than + the half Cree girl. When they had gone he still saw her, and the vision + troubled him. They came in again at night, when the fire was sending red + and yellow lights up and down the tepee walls, and the more he watched + Oachi the stronger there grew within him something that seemed to gnaw and + gripe with a dull sort of pain. Oachi was beautiful. He had never seen hair + like her hair. He had never before seen eyes more beautiful. He had never + heard a voice so low and sweet and filled with bird-like ripples of music. + She was beautiful, and yet with her beauty there was a primitiveness, a + gentle savagery, and an age-old story written in the fine lines of her face + which made him uneasy with the thought of a thing that was almost tragedy. + Oachi loved him. He could see that love in her eyes, in her movement; he + could feel it in her presence, and the sweet song of it trembled in her + voice when she spoke to him. Ordinarily a white man would have accepted + this love; he would have rejoiced in it, and would have played with it for + a time, as they have done with the loves of the women of Oachi's people + since the beginning of white man's time. But Roscoe Cummins was of a + different type. He was a man of ideals, and in Oachi's love he saw his + ideal of love set apart from him by illimitable voids. This night, in the + firelit tepee, there came to him like a painful stab the truth of Ransom's + words. He had been born some thousands of years too late. He saw in Oachi + love and life as they might have been for him; but beyond them he also saw, + like a grim and threatening hand, a vision of cities, of toiling millions, + of a great work just begun—a vision of life as it was intended that he + should live it; and to shut it out from him he bowed his head in his two + hands, overwhelmed by a new grief. +</p> +<p> + The chief sat with his face to the fire, smoking silently, and Oachi came + to Roscoe's side, and touched hands timidly, like a little child. She + seemed to him wondrously like a child when he lifted his head and looked + down into her face. She smiled at him, questioning him, and he smiled his + answer back, yet neither broke the silence with words. He heard only the + soft little note in Oachi's throat that filled him with such an exquisite + sensation, and he wondered what music would be if it could find expression + through a voice like hers. +</p> +<p> + "Oachi," he asked softly, "why did you never sing?" +</p> +<p> + The girl looked at him in silence for a moment. +</p> +<p> + "We starve," she said. She swept her hand toward the door of the tepee. "We + starve—die—there is no song." +</p> +<p> + He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to him, as he might have + done with a little child. +</p> +<p> + "I wish you would sing, Oachi," he said. +</p> +<p> + For a moment the girl's dark eyes glowed up at him. Then she drew back + softly, and seated herself before the fire, with her back turned toward + him, close beside her father. A strange quiet filled the tepee. Over their + heads the wailing storm seemed to die for a moment; and then something rose + in its place, so low and gentle at first that it seemed like a whisper, but + growing in sweetness and volume until Roscoe Cummins sat erect, his eyes + flashing, his hands clenched, looking at Oachi. The storm rose, and with it + the song—a song that reached down into his soul, stirring him now with its + gladness, now with a half savage pain; but always with a sweetness that + engulfed for him all other things, until he was listening only to the + voice. And then silence came again within the tepee. Over the mountain the + wind burst more fiercely. The chief sat motionless. In Oachi's hair the + firelight glistened with a dull radiance. There was quiet, and yet Roscoe + still heard the voice. He knew that he would always hear it, that it would + never die. +</p> +<p> + Not until long afterward did he know that Oachi had sung to him the great + love song of the Crees. +</p> +<p> + That night and the next day, and the terrible night and day that followed, + Roscoe fought with himself. He won—when alone—and lost when Oachi was + with him. In some ways she knew intuitively that he loved to see her with + her splendid hair down, and she would sit at his feet and brush it, while + he tried to hide his admiration and smother the passion which sprang up in + his breast when she was near. He knew, in these moments, that it was too + late to kill the thing that was born in him—the craving of his heart and + his soul for this girl of the First People who had laid her life at his + feet and who was removed from him by barriers which he could never pass. On + the afternoon of his seventh day in camp an Indian hunter ran in from the + forest nearly crazed with joy. He had ventured farther away than the + others, and had found a moose-yard. He had killed two of the animals. The + days of famine were over. Oachi brought the first news to Roscoe. Her face + was radiant with joy, her eyes burned like stars, and in her excitement she + stretched out her arms to him as she cried out the wonderful news. Roscoe + took her two hands. +</p> +<p> + "Is it true, Oachi?" he asked. "They have surely killed meat?" +</p> +<p> + "Yes—yes—yes," she cried. "They have killed meat—much meat—" +</p> +<p> + She stopped at the strange, hard look in Roscoe's eyes. He was looking + overhead. If he had looked down, into the glory and love of her eyes, he + would have swept her close in his arms, and the last fight would have been + over then and there. Oachi went out, wondering at the coldness with which + he had received the word of their deliverance, and little guessing that in + that moment he had fought the greatest battle of his life. Each day after + this called him back to the fight. His two broken ribs healed slowly. The + storm passed. The sun followed it, and the March winds began bringing up + warmth from the south. Days grew into weeks, and the snow was growing soft + underfoot before he dared venture forth short distances from the camp + alone. He tried often to make Oachi understand, but he always stopped short + of what he meant to say; his hand would steal to her beautiful hair, and in + Oachi's throat would sound the inimitable little note of happiness. Each + day he was more and more handicapped. For in the joy of her great love + Oachi became more beautiful and her voice still sweeter. By the time the + snows began running down from the mountains and the poplar buds began to + swell she was telling him the most sacred of all sacred things, and one day + she told him of the wonderful world far to the west, painted by the glow of + the setting sun, wherein lay the Valley of Silent Men. +</p> +<p> + "And that is Heaven—your Heaven," breathed Roscoe. He was almost well now, + but he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, and Oachi knelt in the old + place upon the deer skin at his feet. As he spoke he stroked her hair. +</p> +<p> + "Tell me," he said, "what sort of a place it is, Oachi." +</p> +<p> + "It is beautiful," spoke Oachi softly. +</p> +<p> + "Long, long ago the Great God came down among us and lived for a time; and + He came at a time like that which has just passed, and He saw suffering, + and hunger, and death. And when He saw what life was He made for us another + world, and told us that it should be called the Valley of Silent Men; and + that when we died we would go to this place, and that at last—when all of + our race were gone—He would cause the earth to roll three times, and in + the Valley of Silent Men all would awaken into life which would never know + death, or sorrow, or pain again. And He says that those who love will + awaken there—hand in hand." +</p> +<p> + "It is beautiful," said Roscoe. He felt himself trembling. Oachi's breath + was against his hand. It was his last fight. He half reached out, as if to + clasp her to him; but beyond her he still saw the other thing—the other + world. He rose to his feet, not daring to look at her now. He loved her too + much to sacrifice her. And it would be a sacrifice. He tried to speak + firmly. +</p> +<p> + "Oachi," he said, "I am nearly well enough to travel now. I have spent + pleasant weeks with you, weeks which I shall never forget. But it is time + for me to go back to my people. They are expecting me. They are waiting for + me, and wondering at my absence. I am as you would be if you were down + there in a great city. So I must go. I must go to-morrow, or the next day, + or soon after. Oachi—" +</p> +<p> + He still looked where he could not see her face. But he heard her move. He + knew that slowly she was drawing away. +</p> +<p> + "Oachi—" +</p> +<p> + She was near the door now, and his eyes turned toward her. She was looking + back, her slender shoulders bent over, her glorious hair rippling to her + knees, as she had left it undone for him. In her eyes was love such as + falls from the heavens. But her face was as white as a mask. +</p> +<p> + "Oachi!" +</p> +<p> + With a cry Roscoe reached out his arms. But Oachi was gone. At last the + Cree girl understood. +</p> +<hr> +<p> + Three days later there came in the passing of a single day and night the + splendour of northern spring. The sun rose warm and golden. From the sides + of the mountains and in the valleys water poured forth in rippling, singing + floods. There bakneesh glowed on bared rocks. Moose-birds, and jays, and + wood-thrushes flitted about the camp, and the air was filled with the + fragrant smells of new life bursting from earth, and tree, and shrub. On + this morning of the third day Roscoe strode forth from his tepee, with his + pack upon his back. An Indian guide waited for him outside. He had smoked + his last pipe with the chief, and now he went from tepee to tepee, in the + fashion of the Crees, and drew a single puff from the pipe of each master, + until there was but one tepee left, and in that was Oachi. With a white + face he rubbed his hand over the deer-flap, and waited. Slowly it was drawn + back, and Oachi came out. He had not seen her since the night he had driven + her from him, and he had planned to say things in this last moment which he + might have said then. But words stumbled on his lips. Oachi was changed. + She seemed taller. Her beautiful eyes looked at him clearly and proudly. + For the first time she was to him Oachi, the "Sun Child," a princess of the + First People—the daughter of a Cree chief. He held out his hand, and the + hand which Oachi gave to him was cold and lifeless. She smiled when he told + her that he had come to say good-bye, and when she spoke to him her voice + was as clear as the stream singing through the cañon. His own voice + trembled. In spite of his mightiest effort a tightening fist seemed choking + him. +</p> +<p> + "I am coming back—some day," he managed. +</p> +<p> + Oachi smiled, with the glory of the morning sun in her eyes and hair. She + turned, still smiling, and pointed far to the west. +</p> +<p> + "And some day—the Valley of Silent Men will awaken," she said, and + reëntered her father's tepee. +</p> +<p> + Out of the camp staggered Roscoe Cummins behind his Indian guide, a + blinding heat in his eyes. Once or twice a gulping sob rose in his throat, + and he clutched hard at his heart to beat himself into submission to the + great law of life as it had been made for him. +</p> +<p> + An hour later the two came to a stream where there was a canoe. Because of + rapids and the fierceness of the spring floods, portages were many, and + progress slow during the whole of that day. They had made twenty miles when + the sun began sinking in the west, and they struck camp. After their supper + of meat the Cree rolled himself in his blanket and slept. But for long + hours Roscoe sat beside their fire. Night dropped about him, a splendid + night filled with sweet breaths and stars and a new moon, and with strange + sounds which came to him now in a language which he was beginning to + understand. From far away there floated faintly to his ears the lonely cry + of a wolf, and it no longer made him shudder, but filled him with the + mysterious longing of the cry itself. It was the mate-song of the beast of + prey, sending up its message to the stars—crying out to all the + wilderness for a response to its loneliness. Night birds twittered about + him. A loon laughed in its mocking joy. An owl hooted down at him from the + black top of a tall spruce. From out of starvation and death the wilderness + had awakened. Its sounds spoke to him still of grief, of the suffering that + would never know end; and yet there trembled in them a note of happiness + and of content. Beside the campfire it came to him that in this world he + had discovered two things—a suffering that he had never known, and a peace + he had never known. And Oachi stood for them both. He thought of her until + drowsiness drew a pale film over his eyes. The birch crackled more and more + faintly in the fire and sounds died away. The stillness of sleep fell about + him. Scarce had he fallen into slumber than his eyes seemed to open wide + and wakeful, and out of the gloom beyond the smouldering fire he saw a + human form slowly revealing itself, until there stood clearly within his + vision a figure which he at first took to be that of Mukoki, the chief. But + in another moment he saw that it was even taller than the tall chief, and + that its eyes had searched him out. When he heard a voice, speaking in Cree + the words which mean, "Whither goest thou?" he was startled to hear his + own voice reply: "I am going back to my people." +</p> +<p> + He stared into vacancy, for at the sound of his voice the vision faded + away; but there came a voice to him back through the night, which said: + "And it is here that you have found that of which you have dreamed—Life, + and the Valley of Silent Men!" +</p> +<p> + Roscoe was wide awake now. The voice and the vision had seemed so real to + him that he looked about him tremblingly into the starlit gloom of the + forest, as if not quite sure that he had been dreaming. Then he crawled + into his balsam shelter, drew his blankets about him, and fell asleep. +</p> +<p> + The next day he had little to say to his Indian companion as they made + their way downstream. At each dip of their paddles a deeper sickness seemed + to enter into his heart. Life, after all, he tried to reason, was like a + tailored garment. One might have an ideal, and if that ideal became a + realization it would be found a misfit for one reason or another. So he + told himself, in spite of fill the dreams which had urged him on in the + fight for better things. There flooded upon him now the forceful truth of + what Ransom had said. His work, as he had begun it, was at an end, his + fabric of idealism had fallen into ruins. For he had found all that was + ideal—love, faith, purity, and beauty—and he, Roscoe Cummins, the + idealist, had repulsed them because they were not dressed in the tailored + fashion of his kind. He told himself the truth with brutal directness. + Before him he saw another work in his books, but of a different kind; and + each hour that passed added to the conviction within him that at last that + work would prove a failure. He went off alone into the forest when they + camped, early in the afternoon, and thought of Oachi, who would mourn him + until the end of time. And he—could he forget? What if he had yielded to + temptation, and had taken Oachi with him? She would have come. He knew + that. She would have sacrificed herself to him forever, would have gone + with him into a life which she could not understand, and would never + understand, satisfied to live in his love alone. The old, choking hand + gripped at his heart, and yet with the pain of it there was still a + rejoicing that he had not surrendered to the temptation, that he had been + strong enough to save her. +</p> +<p> + The last light of the setting sun cast film-like webs of yellow and gold + through the forest as he turned in the direction of camp. It was that hour + in which a wonderful quiet falls upon the wilderness, the last minutes + between night and day, when all wild life seems to shrink in suspensive + waiting for the change. Seven months had taught Roscoe a quiet of his own. + His moccasined feet made no sound. His head was bent, his shoulders had a + tired droop, and his eyes searched for nothing in the mystery about him. + His heart seemed weighted under a pressure that had taken all life from + him, and close above him, in a balsam bough, a night bird twittered. In + response to it a low cry burst from his lips, a cry of loneliness and of + grief. In that moment he saw Oachi again at his feet; he heard the low, + sweet note of love in her throat, so much like that of the bird over his + head; he saw the soft lustre of her hair, the glory of her eyes, looking up + at him from the half gloom of the tepee, telling him that they had found + their god. It was all so near, so real for a moment, that he sprang erect, + his fingers clutching handfuls of moss. He looked toward the camp, and he + saw something move between the rock and the fire. +</p> +<p> + It was a wolf, he thought, or perhaps a lynx, and drawing his revolver he + moved quickly and silently in its direction. The object had disappeared + behind a little clump of balsam shrub within fifty paces of the camp, and + as he drew nearer, until he was no more than ten paces away, he wondered + why it did not break cover. +</p> +<p> + There were no trees, and it was quite light where the balsam grew. He + approached, step by step. And then, suddenly, from almost under his hands, + something darted away with a strange, human cry, turning upon him for a + single instant a face that was as white as the white stars of early + night—a face with great, glowing, half-mad eyes. It was Oachi. His pistol + dropped to the ground. His heart stopped beating. No cry, no breath of + sound, came from his paralyzed lips. And like a wild thing Oachi was + fleeing from him into the darkening depths of the forest. Life leaped into + his limbs, and he raced like mad after her, overtaking her with a panting, + joyous cry. When she saw that she was caught the girl turned. Her hair had + fallen, and swept about her shoulders and her body. She tried to speak, but + only bursting sobs came from her breast. As she shrank from him, Roscoe + saw that her clothing was in shreds, and that her thin moccasins were + almost torn from her little feet. The truth held him for another moment + stunned and speechless. Like a lightning flash there recurred to him her + last words: "And some day—the Valley of Silent Men will awaken." He + understood—now. She had followed him, fighting her way through swamp and + forest along the river, hiding from him, and yet keeping him company so + long as her little broken heart could urge her on. And then alone, with a + last prayer for him—<i>she had planned to kill herself</i>. He trembled. + Something wonderful happened with him, flooding his soul with day—with a + joy that descended upon him as the Hand of the Messiah must have fallen + upon the heads of the children of Samaria. With a great, glad cry he sprang + toward Oachi and caught her in his arms, crushing her face to him, kissing + her hair and her eyes and her mouth until at last with a strange, soft cry + she put her arms up about his neck and sobbed like a little child upon his + breast. +</p> +<p> + Back in the camp the Indian waited. The white stars grew red. In the forest + the shadows deepened to the chaos of night. Once more there was sound, the + pulse and beat of a life that moves in darkness. In the camp the Indian + grew restless with the thought that Roscoe had wandered away until he was + lost. So at last he fired his rifle. +</p> +<p> + Oachi started in Roscoe's arms. +</p> +<p> + "You should go back—alone," she whispered. The old, fluttering love-note + was in her voice, sweeter than the sweetest music to Roscoe Cummins. He + turned her face up, and held it between his two hands. +</p> +<p> + "If I go there," he said, pointing for a moment into the south, "I go + <i>alone</i>. But if I go there—" and he pointed into the north—"I go + <i>with you</i>. Oachi, my beloved, I am going with you." He drew her close + again, and asked, almost in a whisper: "And when we awaken in the Valley of + Silent Men, how shall it be, my Oachi?" +</p> +<p> + And with the sweet love-note, Oachi said in Cree: +</p> +<p> + "Hand in hand, my master." +</p> +<p> + Hand in hand they returned to the waiting Indian and the fire. +</p> +<br> +<hr class="full"> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRIZZLY KING***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 10977-h.txt or 10977-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/7/10977">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/7/10977</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hoffman + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Grizzly King + +Author: James Oliver Curwood + +Release Date: February 7, 2004 [eBook #10977] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRIZZLY KING*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Andrea Ball, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 10977-h.htm or 10977-h.zip: + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/9/7/10977/10977-h/10977-h.htm) + or + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/9/7/10977/10977-h.zip) + + + + + +THE GRIZZLY KING + +A ROMANCE OF THE WILD + +BY + +JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD + +1918 + +ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK B. HOFFMAN + + + + + + +[Illustration: "As Thor had more than once come into contact with +porcupine quills, he hesitated."] + + + + +To +MY BOY + + + + +PREFACE + + +It is with something like a confession that I offer this second of my +nature books to the public--a confession, and a hope; the confession of one +who for years hunted and killed before he learned that the wild offered a +more thrilling sport than slaughter--and the hope that what I have written +may make others feel and understand that the greatest thrill of the hunt is +not in killing, but in letting live. It is true that in the great open +spaces one must kill to live; one must have meat, and meat is life. But +killing for food is not the lust of slaughter; it is not the lust which +always recalls to me that day in the British Columbia mountains when, in +less than two hours, I killed four grizzlies on a mountain slide--a +destruction of possibly a hundred and twenty years of life in a hundred and +twenty minutes. And that is only one instance of many in which I now regard +myself as having been almost a criminal--for killing for the excitement of +killing can be little less than murder. In their small way my animal books +are the reparation I am now striving to make, and it has been my earnest +desire to make them not only of romantic interest, but reliable in their +fact. As in human life, there are tragedy, and humour, and pathos in the +life of the wild; there are facts of tremendous interest, real happenings +and real lives to be written about, and very small necessity for one to +draw on imagination. In "Kazan" I tried to give the reader a picture of my +years of experience among the wild sledge dogs of the North. In "The +Grizzly" I have scrupulously adhered to facts as I have found them in the +lives of the wild creatures of which I have written. Little Muskwa was with +me all that summer and autumn in the Canadian Rockies. Pipoonaskoos is +buried in the Firepan Range country, with a slab over his head, just like a +white man. The two grizzly cubs we dug out on the Athabasca are dead. And +Thor still lives, for his range is in a country where no hunters go--and +when at last the opportunity came we did not kill him. This year (in July +of 1916) I am going back into the country of Thor and Muskwa. I think I +would know Thor if I saw him again, for he was a monster full-grown. But +in two years Muskwa had grown from cubhood into full bearhood. And yet I +believe that Muskwa would know me should we chance to meet again. I like to +think that he has not forgotten the sugar, and the scores of times he +cuddled up close to me at night, and the hunts we had together after roots +and berries, and the sham fights with which we amused ourselves so often in +camp. But, after all, perhaps he would not forgive me for that last day +when we ran away from him so hard--leaving him alone to his freedom in the +mountains. + +JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD. + +Owosso, Michigan, +May 5, 1916. + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"As Thor had more than once come into contact with porcupine quills, he +hesitated." + +"Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, swung a little +to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still like a huge +ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done." + +"They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look +at every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter +of a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation and stopped." + +"'Come on!' he cried. 'The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our +grizzly!'" + + + + +THE GRIZZLY KING + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + + +With the silence and immobility of a great reddish-tinted, rock, Thor stood +for many minutes looking out over his domain. He could not see far, for, +like all grizzlies, his eyes were small and far apart, and his vision was +bad. At a distance of a third or a half a mile he could make out a goat or +a mountain sheep, but beyond that his world was a vast sun-filled or +night-darkened mystery through which he ranged mostly by the guidance of +sound and smell. + +It was the sense of smell that held him still and motionless now. Up out of +the valley a scent had come to his nostrils that he had never smelled +before. It was something that did not belong there, and it stirred him +strangely. Vainly his slow-working brute mind struggled to comprehend it. +It was not caribou, for he had killed many caribou; it was not goat; it +was not sheep; and it was not the smell of the fat and lazy whistlers +sunning themselves on the rocks, for he had eaten hundreds of whistlers. It +was a scent that did not enrage him, and neither did it frighten him. He +was curious, and yet he did not go down to seek it out. Caution held him +back. + +If Thor could have seen distinctly for a mile, or two miles, his eyes would +have discovered even less than the wind brought to him from down the +valley. He stood at the edge of a little plain, with the valley an eighth +of a mile below him, and the break over which he had come that afternoon an +eighth of a mile above him. The plain was very much like a cup, perhaps an +acre in extent, in the green slope of the mountain. It was covered with +rich, soft grass and June flowers, mountain violets and patches of +forget-me-nots, and wild asters and hyacinths, and in the centre of it was +a fifty-foot spatter of soft mud which Thor visited frequently when his +feet became rock-sore. + +To the east and the west and the north of him spread out the wonderful +panorama of the Canadian Rockies, softened in the golden sunshine of a June +afternoon. + +From up and down the valley, from the breaks between the peaks, and from +the little gullies cleft in shale and rock that crept up to the snow-lines +came a soft and droning murmur. It was the music of running water. That +music was always in the air, for the rivers, the creeks, and the tiny +streams gushing down from the snow that lay eternally up near the clouds +were never still. + +There were sweet perfumes as well as music in the air. June and July--the +last of spring and the first of summer in the northern mountains--were +commingling. The earth was bursting with green; the early flowers were +turning the sunny slopes into coloured splashes of red and white and +purple, and everything that had life was singing--the fat whistlers on +their rocks, the pompous little gophers on their mounds, the big bumblebees +that buzzed from flower to flower, the hawks in the valley, and the eagles +over the peaks. Even Thor was singing in his way, for as he had paddled +through the soft mud a few minutes before he had rumbled curiously deep +down in his great chest. It was not a growl or a roar or a snarl; it was +the noise he made when he was contented. It was his song. + +And now, for some mysterious reason, there had suddenly come a change in +this wonderful day for him. Motionless he still sniffed the wind. It +puzzled him. It disquieted him without alarming him. To the new and strange +smell that was in the air he was as keenly sensitive as a child's tongue to +the first sharp touch of a drop of brandy. And then, at last, a low and +sullen growl came like a distant roll of thunder from out of his chest. He +was overlord of these domains, and slowly his brain told him that there +should be no smell which he could not comprehend, and of which he was not +the master. + +Thor reared up slowly, until the whole nine feet of him rested on his +haunches, and he sat like a trained dog, with his great forefeet, heavy +with mud, drooping in front of his chest. For ten years he had lived in +these mountains and never had he smelled that smell. He defied it. He +waited for it, while it came stronger and nearer. He did not hide himself. +Clean-cut and unafraid, he stood up. + +He was a monster in size, and his new June coat shone a golden brown in the +sun. His forearms were almost as large as a man's body; the three largest +of his five knifelike claws were five and a half inches long; in the mud +his feet had left tracks that were fifteen inches from tip to tip. He was +fat, and sleek, and powerful. His eyes, no larger than hickory nuts, were +eight inches apart. His two upper fangs, sharp as stiletto points, were as +long as a man's thumb, and between his great jaws he could crush the neck +of a caribou. + +Thor's life had been free of the presence of man, and he was not ugly. Like +most grizzlies, he did not kill for the pleasure of killing. Out of a herd +he would take one caribou, and he would eat that caribou to the marrow in +the last bone. He was a peaceful king. He had one law: "Let me alone!" he +said, and the voice of that law was in his attitude as he sat on his +haunches sniffing the strange smell. + +In his massive strength, in his aloneness and his supremacy, the great bear +was like the mountains, unrivalled in the valleys as they were in the +skies. With the mountains, he had come down out of the ages. He was part of +them. The history of his race had begun and was dying among them, and they +were alike in many ways. Until this day he could not remember when anything +had come to question his might and his right--except those of his own +kind. With such rivals he had fought fairly and more than once to the +death. He was ready to fight again, if it came to a question of sovereignty +over the ranges which he claimed as his own. Until he was beaten he was +dominator, arbiter, and despot, if he chose to be. He was dynast of the +rich valleys and the green slopes, and liege lord of all living things +about him. He had won and kept these things openly, without strategy or +treachery. He was hated and he was feared, but he was without hatred or +fear of his own--and he was honest. Therefore he waited openly for the +strange thing that was coming to him from down the valley. + +As he sat on his haunches, questioning the air with his keen brown nose, +something within him was reaching back into dim and bygone generations. +Never before had he caught the taint that was in his nostrils, yet now that +it came to him it did not seem altogether new. He could not place it. He +could not picture it. Yet he knew that it was a menace and a threat. + +For ten minutes he sat like a carven thing on his haunches. Then the wind +shifted, and the scent grew less and less, until it was gone altogether. + +Thor's flat ears lifted a little. He turned his huge head slowly so that +his eyes took in the green slope and the tiny plain. He easily forgot the +smell now that the air was clear and sweet again. He dropped on his four +feet, and resumed his gopher-hunting. + +There was something of humour in his hunt. Thor weighed a thousand pounds; +a mountain gopher is six inches long and weighs six ounces. Yet Thor would +dig energetically for an hour, and rejoice at the end by swallowing the fat +little gopher like a pill; it was his _bonne bouche_, the luscious tidbit +in the quest of which he spent a third of his spring and summer digging. + +He found a hole located to his satisfaction and began throwing out the +earth like a huge dog after a rat. He was on the crest of the slope. Once +or twice during the next half-hour he lifted his head, but he was no longer +disturbed by the strange smell that had come to him with the wind. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + + +A mile down the valley Jim Langdon stopped his horse where the spruce and +balsam timber thinned out at the mouth of a coulee, looked ahead of him for +a breathless moment or two, and then with an audible gasp of pleasure swung +his right leg over so that his knee crooked restfully about the horn of his +saddle, and waited. + +Two or three hundred yards behind him, still buried in the timber, Otto was +having trouble with Dishpan, a contumacious pack-mare. Langdon grinned +happily as he listened to the other's vociferations, which threatened +Dishpan with every known form of torture and punishment, from instant +disembowelment to the more merciful end of losing her brain through the +medium of a club. He grinned because Otto's vocabulary descriptive of +terrible things always impending over the heads of his sleek and utterly +heedless pack-horses was one of his chief joys. He knew that if Dishpan +should elect to turn somersaults while diamond-hitched under her pack, +big, good-natured Bruce Otto would do nothing more than make the welkin +ring with his terrible, blood-curdling protest. + +One after another the six horses of their outfit appeared out of the +timber, and last of all rode the mountain man. He was gathered like a +partly released spring in his saddle, an attitude born of years in the +mountains, and because of a certain difficulty he had in distributing +gracefully his six-foot-two-inch length of flesh and bone astride a +mountain cayuse. + +Upon his appearance Langdon dismounted, and turned his eyes again up the +valley. The stubbly blond beard on his face did not conceal the deep tan +painted there by weeks of exposure in the mountains; he had opened his +shirt at the throat, exposing a neck darkened by sun and wind; his eyes +were of a keen, searching blue-gray, and they quested the country ahead of +him now with the joyous intentness of the hunter and the adventurer. + +Langdon was thirty-five. A part of his life he spent in the wild places; +the other part he spent in writing about the things he found there. His +companion was five years his junior in age, but had the better of him by +six inches in length of anatomy, if those additional inches could be called +an advantage. Bruce thought they were not. "The devil of it is I ain't done +growin' yet!" he often explained. + +He rode up now and unlimbered himself. Langdon pointed ahead. + +"Did you ever see anything to beat that?" he asked. + +"Fine country," agreed Bruce. "Mighty good place to camp, too, Jim. There +ought to be caribou in this range, an' bear. We need some fresh meat. Gimme +a match, will you?" + +It had come to be a habit with them to light both their pipes with one +match when possible. They performed this ceremony now while viewing the +situation. As he puffed the first luxurious cloud of smoke from his +bulldog, Langdon nodded toward the timber from which they had just come. + +"Fine place for our tepee," he said. "Dry wood, running water, and the +first good balsam we've struck in a week for our beds. We can hobble the +horses in that little open plain we crossed a quarter of a mile back. I saw +plenty of buffalo grass and a lot of wild timothy." + +He looked at his watch. + +"It's only three o'clock. We might go on. But--what do you say? Shall we +stick for a day or two, and see what this country looks like?" + +"Looks good to me," said Bruce. + +He sat down as he spoke, with his back to a rock, and over his knee he +levelled a long brass telescope. From his saddle Langdon unslung a +binocular glass imported from Paris. The telescope was a relic of the Civil +War. Together, their shoulders touching as they steadied themselves against +the rock, they studied the rolling slopes and the green sides of the +mountains ahead of them. + +They were in the Big Game country, and what Langdon called the Unknown. So +far as he and Bruce Otto could discover, no other white man had ever +preceded them. It was a country shut in by tremendous ranges, through which +it had taken them twenty days of sweating toil to make a hundred miles. + +That afternoon they had crossed the summit of the Great Divide that split +the skies north and south, and through their glasses they were looking now +upon the first green slopes and wonderful peaks of the Firepan Mountains. +To the northward--and they had been travelling north--was the Skeena +River; on the west and south were the Babine range and waterways; eastward, +over the Divide, was the Driftwood, and still farther eastward the Ominica +range and the tributaries of the Finley. They had started from civilization +on the tenth day of May and this was the thirtieth of June. + +As Langdon looked through his glasses he believed that at last they had +reached the bourne of their desires. For nearly two months they had worked +to get beyond the trails of men, and they had succeeded. There were no +hunters here. There were no prospectors. The valley ahead of them was +filled with golden promise, and as he sought out the first of its mystery +and its wonder his heart was filled with the deep and satisfying joy which +only men like Langdon can fully understand. To his friend and comrade, +Bruce Otto, with whom he had gone five times into the North country, all +mountains and all valleys were very much alike; he was born among them, he +had lived among them all his life, and he would probably die among them. + +It was Bruce who gave him a sudden sharp nudge with his elbow. + +"I see the heads of three caribou crossing a dip about a mile and a half +up the valley," he said, without taking his eyes from the telescope. + +"And I see a Nanny and her kid on the black shale of that first mountain to +the right," replied Langdon. "And, by George, there's a Sky Pilot looking +down on her from a crag a thousand feet above the shale! He's got a beard a +foot long. Bruce, I'll bet we've struck a regular Garden of Eden!" + +"Looks it," vouchsafed Bruce, coiling up his long legs to get a better rest +for his telescope. "If this ain't a sheep an' bear country, I've made the +worst guess I ever made in my life." + +For five minutes they looked, without a word passing between them. Behind +them their horses were nibbling hungrily in the thick, rich grass. The +sound of the many waters in the mountains droned in their ears, and the +valley seemed sleeping in a sea of sunshine. Langdon could think of nothing +more comparable than that--slumber. The valley was like a great, +comfortable, happy cat, and the sounds they heard, all commingling in that +pleasing drone, was its drowsy purring. He was focussing his glass a +little more closely on the goat standing watchfully on its crag, when Otto +spoke again. + +"I see a grizzly as big as a house!" he announced quietly. + +Bruce seldom allowed his equanimity to be disturbed, except by the +pack-horses. Thrilling news like this he always introduced as unconcernedly +as though speaking of a bunch of violets. + +Langdon sat up with a jerk. + +"Where?" he demanded. + +He leaned over to get the range of the other's telescope, every nerve in +his body suddenly aquiver. + +"See that slope on the second shoulder, just beyond the ravine over there?" +said Bruce, with one eye closed and the other still glued to the telescope. +"He's halfway up, digging out a gopher." + +Langdon focussed his glass on the slope, and a moment later an excited gasp +came from him. + +"See 'im?" asked Bruce. + +"The glass has pulled him within four feet of my nose," replied Langdon. +"Bruce, that's the biggest grizzly in the Rocky Mountains!" + +"If he ain't, he's his twin brother," chuckled the packer, without moving a +muscle. "He beats your eight-footer by a dozen inches, Jimmy! An'"--he +paused at this psychological moment to pull a plug of black MacDonald from +his pocket and bite off a mouthful, without taking the telescope from his +eye--"an' the wind is in our favour an' he's as busy as a flea!" he +finished. + +Otto unwound himself and rose to his feet, and Langdon jumped up briskly. +In such situations as this there was a mutual understanding between them +which made words unnecessary. They led the eight horses back into the edge +of the timber and tied them there, took their rifles from the leather +holsters, and each was careful to put a sixth cartridge in the chamber of +his weapon. Then for a matter of two minutes they both studied the slope +and its approaches with their naked eyes. + +"We can slip up the ravine," suggested Langdon. + +Bruce nodded. + +"I reckon it's a three-hundred-yard shot from there," he said. "It's the +best we can do. He'd get our wind if we went below 'im. If it was a couple +o' hours earlier--" + +"We'd climb over the mountain and come down on him from _above_!" exclaimed +Langdon, laughing. + +"Bruce, you're the most senseless idiot on the face of the globe when it +comes to climbing mountains! You'd climb over Hardesty or Geikie to shoot a +goat from above, even though you could get him from the valley without any +work at all. I'm glad it isn't morning. We can get that bear from the +ravine!" + +"Mebbe," said Bruce, and they started. + +They walked openly over the green, flower-carpeted meadows ahead of them. +Until they came within at least half a mile of the grizzly there was no +danger of him seeing them. The wind had shifted, and was almost in their +faces. Their swift walk changed to a dog-trot, and they swung in nearer to +the slope, so that for fifteen minutes a huge knoll concealed the grizzly. +In another ten minutes they came to the ravine, a narrow, rock-littered and +precipitous gully worn in the mountainside by centuries of spring floods +gushing down from the snow-peaks above. Here they made cautious +observation. + +The big grizzly was perhaps six hundred yards up the slope, and pretty +close to three hundred yards from the nearest point reached by the gully. + +Bruce spoke in a whisper now. + +"You go up an' do the stalkin', Jimmy," he said. "That bear's goin' to do +one of two things if you miss or only wound 'im--one o' three, mebbe: he's +going to investigate _you_, or he's going up over the break, or he's comin' +down in the valley--this way. We can't keep 'im from goin' over the break, +an' if he tackles you--just summerset it down the gully. You can beat 'im +out. He's most apt to come this way if you don't get 'im, so I'll wait +here. Good luck to you, Jimmy!" + +With this he went out and crouched behind a rock, where he could keep an +eye on the grizzly, and Langdon began to climb quietly up the +boulder-strewn gully. + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + + +Of all the living creatures in this sleeping valley, Thor was the busiest. +He was a bear with individuality, you might say. Like some people, he went +to bed very early; he began to get sleepy in October, and turned in for his +long nap in November. He slept until April, and usually was a week or ten +days behind other bears in waking. He was a sound sleeper, and when awake +he was very wide awake. During April and May he permitted himself to doze +considerably in the warmth of sunny rocks, but from the beginning of June +until the middle of September he closed his eyes in real sleep just about +four hours out of every twelve. + +He was very busy as Langdon began his cautious climb up the gully. He had +succeeded in getting his gopher, a fat, aldermanic old patriarch who had +disappeared in one crunch and a gulp, and he was now absorbed in finishing +off his day's feast with an occasional fat, white grub and a few sour ants +captured from under stones which he turned over with his paw. + +In his search after these delicacies Thor used his right paw in turning +over the rocks. Ninety-nine out of every hundred bears--probably a hundred +and ninety-nine out of every two hundred--are left-handed; Thor was +right-handed. This gave him an advantage in fighting, in fishing, and in +stalking meat, for a grizzly's right arm is longer than his left--so much +longer that if he lost his sixth sense of orientation he would be +constantly travelling in a circle. + +In his quest Thor was headed for the gully. His huge head hung close to the +ground. At short distances his vision was microscopic in its keenness; his +olfactory nerves were so sensitive that he could catch one of the big +rock-ants with his eyes shut. + +He would choose the flat rocks mostly. His huge right paw, with its long +claws, was as clever as a human hand. The stone lifted, a sniff or two, a +lick of his hot, flat tongue, and he ambled on to the next. + +He took this work with tremendous seriousness, much like an elephant +hunting for peanuts hidden in a bale of hay. He saw no humour in the +operation. As a matter of fact, Nature had not intended there should be any +humour about it. Thor's time was more or less valueless, and during the +course of a summer he absorbed in his system a good many hundred thousand +sour ants, sweet grubs, and juicy insects of various kinds, not to mention +a host of gophers and still tinier rock-rabbits. These small things all +added to the huge rolls of fat which it was necessary for him to store up +for that "absorptive consumption" which kept him alive during his long +winter sleep. This was why Nature had made his little greenish-brown eyes +twin microscopes, infallible at distances of a few feet, and almost +worthless at a thousand yards. + +As he was about to turn over a fresh stone Thor paused in his operations. +For a full minute he stood nearly motionless. Then his head swung slowly, +his nose close to the ground. Very faintly he had caught an exceedingly +pleasing odour. It was so faint that he was afraid of losing it if he +moved. So he stood until he was sure of himself, then he swung his huge +shoulders around and descended two yards down the slope, swinging his head +slowly from right to left, and sniffing. The scent grew stronger. Another +two yards down the slope he found it very strong under a rock. It was a big +rock, and weighed probably two hundred pounds. Thor dragged it aside with +his one right hand as if it were no more than a pebble. + +Instantly there was a wild and protesting chatter, and a tiny striped +rock-rabbit, very much like a chipmunk, darted away just as Thor's left +hand came down with a smash that would have broken the neck of a caribou. + +It was not the scent of the rock-rabbit, but the savour of what the +rock-rabbit had stored under the stone that had attracted Thor. And this +booty still remained--a half-pint of ground-nuts piled carefully in a +little hollow lined with moss. They were not really nuts. They were more +like diminutive potatoes, about the size of cherries, and very much like +potatoes in appearance. They were starchy and sweet, and fattening. Thor +enjoyed them immensely, rumbling in that curious satisfied way deep down in +his chest as he feasted. And then he resumed his quest. + +He did not hear Langdon as the hunter came nearer and nearer up the broken +gully. He did not smell him, for the wind was fatally wrong. He had +forgotten the noxious man-smell that had disturbed and irritated him an +hour before. He was quite happy; he was good-humoured; he was fat and +sleek. An irritable, cross-grained, and quarrelsome bear is always thin. +The true hunter knows him as soon as he sets eyes on him. He is like the +rogue elephant. + +Thor continued his food-seeking, edging still closer to the gully. He was +within a hundred and fifty yards of it when a sound suddenly brought him +alert. Langdon, in his effort to creep up the steep side of the gully for a +shot, had accidentally loosened a rock. It went crashing down the ravine, +starting other stones that followed in a noisy clatter. At the foot of the +coulee, six hundred yards down, Bruce swore softly under his breath. He saw +Thor sit up. At that distance he was going to shoot if the bear made for +the break. + +For thirty seconds Thor sat on his haunches. Then he started for the +ravine, ambling slowly and deliberately. Langdon, panting and inwardly +cursing at his ill luck, struggled to make the last ten feet to the edge +of the slope. He heard Bruce yell, but he could not make out the warning. +Hands and feet he dug fiercely into shale and rock as he fought to make +those last three or four yards as quickly as possible. + +He was almost to the top when he paused for a moment and turned his eyes +upward. His heart went into his throat, and he started. For ten seconds he +could not move. Directly over him was a monster head and a huge hulk of +shoulder. Thor was looking down on him, his jaws agape, his finger-long +fangs snarling, his eyes burning with a greenish-red fire. + +In that moment Thor saw his first of man. His great lungs were filled with +the hot smell of him, and suddenly he turned away from that smell as if +from a plague. With his rifle half under him Langdon had had no opportunity +to shoot. Wildly he clambered up the remaining few feet. The shale and +stones slipped and slid under him. It was a matter of sixty seconds before +he pulled himself over the top. + +Thor was a hundred yards away, speeding in a rolling, ball-like motion +toward the break. From the foot of the coulee came the sharp crack of +Otto's rifle. Langdon squatted quickly, raising his left knee for a rest, +and at a hundred and fifty yards began firing. + +Sometimes it happens that an hour--a minute--changes the destiny of man; +and the ten seconds which followed swiftly after that first shot from the +foot of the coulee changed Thor. He had got his fill of the man-smell. He +had seen man. And now he _felt_ him. + +It was as if one of the lightning flashes he had often seen splitting the +dark skies had descended upon him and had entered his flesh like a red-hot +knife; and with that first burning agony of pain came the strange, echoing +roar of the rifles. He had turned up the slope when the bullet struck him +in the fore-shoulder, mushrooming its deadly soft point against his tough +hide, and tearing a hole through his flesh--but without touching the bone. +He was two hundred yards from the ravine when it hit; he was nearer three +hundred when the stinging fire seared him again, this time in his flank. + +Neither shot had staggered his huge bulk, twenty such shots would not have +killed him. But the second stopped him, and he turned with a roar of rage +that was like the bellowing of a mad bull--a snarling, thunderous cry of +wrath that could have been heard a quarter of a mile down the valley. + +Bruce heard it as he fired his sixth unavailing shot at seven hundred +yards. Langdon was reloading. For fifteen seconds Thor offered himself +openly, roaring his defiance, challenging the enemy he could no longer see; +and then at Langdon's seventh shot, a whiplash of fire raked his back, and +in strange dread of this lightning which he could not fight, Thor continued +up over the break. He heard other rifle shots, which were like a new kind +of thunder. But he was not hit again. Painfully he began the descent into +the next valley. + +Thor knew that he was hurt, but he could not comprehend that hurt. Once in +the descent he paused for a few moments, and a little pool of blood dripped +upon the ground under his foreleg. He sniffed at it suspiciously and +wonderingly. + +He swung eastward, and a little later he caught a fresh taint of the +man-smell in the air. The wind was bringing it to him now, and in spite of +the fact that he wanted to lie down and nurse his wound he ambled on a +little faster, for he had learned one thing that he would never forget: the +man-smell and his hurt had come together. + +He reached the bottoms, and buried himself in the thick timber; and then, +crossing this timber, he came to a creek. Perhaps a hundred times he had +travelled up and down this creek. It was the main trail that led from one +half of his range to the other. + +Instinctively he always took this trail when he was hurt or when he was +sick, and also when he was ready to den up for the winter. There was one +chief reason for this: he was born in the almost impenetrable fastnesses at +the head of the creek, and his cubhood had been spent amid its brambles of +wild currants and soap berries and its rich red ground carpets of +kinnikinic. It was home. In it he was alone. It was the one part of his +domain that he held inviolate from all other bears. He tolerated other +bears--blacks and grizzlies--on the wider and sunnier slopes of his range +just so long as they moved on when he approached. They might seek food +there, and nap in the sun-pools, and live in quiet and peace if they did +not defy his suzerainty. + +Thor did not drive other bears from his range, except when it was +necessary to demonstrate again that he was High Mogul. This happened +occasionally, and there was a fight. And always after a fight Thor came +into this valley and went up the creek to cure his wounds. + +He made his way more slowly than usual to-day. There was a terrible pain in +his fore-shoulder. Now and then it hurt him so that his leg doubled up, and +he stumbled. Several times he waded shoulder-deep into pools and let the +cold water run over his wounds. Gradually they stopped bleeding. But the +pain grew worse. + +Thor's best friend in such an emergency was a clay wallow. This was the +second reason why he always took this trail when he was sick or hurt. It +led to the clay wallow. And the clay wallow was his doctor. + +The sun was setting before he reached the wallow. His jaws hung open a +little. His great head drooped lower. He had lost a great deal of blood. He +was tired, and his shoulder hurt him so badly that he wanted to tear with +his teeth at the strange fire that was consuming it. + +The clay wallow was twenty or thirty feet in diameter, and hollowed into a +little shallow pool in the centre. It was a soft, cool, golden-coloured +clay, and Thor waded into it to his armpits. Then he rolled over gently on +his wounded side. The clay touched his hurt like a cooling salve. It sealed +the cut, and Thor gave a great heaving gasp of relief. For a long time he +lay in that soft bed of clay. The sun went down, darkness came, and the +wonderful stars filled the sky. And still Thor lay there, nursing that +first hurt of man. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + + +In the edge of the balsam and spruce Langdon and Otto sat smoking their +pipes after supper, with the glowing embers of a fire at their feet. The +night air in these higher altitudes of the mountains had grown chilly, and +Bruce rose long enough to throw a fresh armful of dry spruce on the coals. +Then he stretched out his long form again, with his head and shoulders +bolstered comfortably against the butt of a tree, and for the fiftieth time +he chuckled. + +"Chuckle an' be blasted," growled Langdon. "I tell you I hit him twice, +Bruce--twice anyway; and I was at a devilish disadvantage!" + +"'Specially when 'e was lookin' down an' grinnin' in your face," retorted +Bruce, who had enjoyed hugely his comrade's ill luck. "Jimmy, at that +distance you should a'most ha' killed 'im with a rock!" + +"My gun was under me," explained Langdon for the twentieth time. + +"W'ich ain't just the proper place for a gun to be when yo'r hunting a +grizzly," reminded Bruce. + +"The gully was confoundedly steep. I had to dig in with both feet and my +fingers. If it had been any steeper I would have used my teeth." + +Langdon sat up, knocked the ash out of the bowl of his pipe, and reloaded +it with fresh tobacco. + +"Bruce, that's the biggest grizzly in the Rocky Mountains!" + +"He'd 'a' made a fine rug in your den, Jimmy--if yo'r gun hadn't 'appened +to 'ave been under you." + +"And I'm going to have him in my den before I finish," declared Langdon. +"I've made up my mind. We'll make a permanent camp here. I'm going to get +that grizzly if it takes all summer. I'd rather have him than any other ten +bears in the Firepan Range. He was a nine-footer if an inch. His head was +as big as a bushel basket, and the hair on his shoulders was four inches +long. I don't know that I'm sorry I didn't kill him. He's hit, and he'll +surely fight say. There'll be a lot of fun in getting him." + +"There will that," agreed Bruce, "'specially if you meet 'im again during +the next week or so, while he's still sore from the bullets. Better not +have the gun under you then, Jimmy!" + +"What do you say to making this a permanent camp?" + +"Couldn't be better. Plenty of fresh meat, good grazing, and fine water." +After a moment he added: "He was hit pretty hard. He was bleedin' bad at +the summit." + +In the firelight Langdon began cleaning his rifle. + +"You think he may clear out--leave the country?" + +Bruce emitted a grunt of disgust. + +"Clear out? _Run away_? Mebbe he would if he was a black. But he's a +grizzly, and the boss of this country. He may fight shy of this valley for +a while, but you can bet he ain't goin' to emigrate. The harder you hit a +grizzly the madder he gets, an' if you keep on hittin' 'im he keeps on +gettin' madder, until he drops dead. If you want that bear bad enough we +can surely get him." + +"I do," Langdon reiterated with emphasis. "He'll smash record measurements +or I miss my guess. I want him, and I want him bad, Bruce. Do you think +we'll be able to trail him in the morning?" + +Bruce shook his head. + +"It won't be a matter of trailing," he said. "It's just simply _hunt_. +After a grizzly has been hit he keeps movin'. He won't go out of his range, +an' neither is he going to show himself on the open slopes like that up +there. Metoosin ought to be along with the dogs inside of three or four +days, an' when we get that bunch of Airedales in action, there'll be some +fun." + +Langdon sighted at the fire through the polished barrel of his rifle, and +said doubtfully: + +"I've been having my doubts about Metoosin for a week back. We've come +through some mighty rough country." + +"That old Indian could follow our trail if we travelled on rock," declared +Bruce confidently. "He'll be here inside o' three days, barring the dogs +don't run their fool heads into too many porcupines. An' when they +come"--he rose and stretched his gaunt frame--"we'll have the biggest time +we ever had in our lives. I'm just guessin' these mount'ins are so full o' +bear that them ten dogs will all be massacreed within a week. Want to bet?" + +Langdon closed his rifle with a snap. + +"I only want one bear," he said, ignoring the challenge, "and I have an +idea we'll get him to-morrow. You're the bear specialist of the outfit, +Bruce, but I think he was too hard hit to travel far." + +They had made two beds of soft balsam boughs near the fire, and Langdon now +followed his companion's example, and began spreading his blankets. It had +been a hard day, and within five minutes after stretching himself out he +was asleep. + +He was still asleep when Bruce rolled out from under his blanket at dawn. +Without rousing Langdon the young packer slipped on his boots and waded +back a quarter of a mile through the heavy dew to round up the horses. When +he returned he brought Dishpan and their saddle-horses with him. By that +time Langdon was up, and starting a fire. + +Langdon frequently reminded himself that such mornings as this had made him +disappoint the doctors and rob the grave. Just eight years ago this June he +had come into the North for the first time, thin-chested and with a bad +lung. "You can go if you insist, young man," one of the doctors had told +him, "but you're going to your own funeral." And now he had a five-inch +expansion and was as tough as a knot. The first rose-tints of the sun were +creeping over the mountain-tops; the air was filled with the sweetness of +flowers, and dew, and growing things, and his lungs drew in deep breaths of +oxygen laden with the tonic and perfume of balsam. + +He was more demonstrative than his companion in the joyousness of this wild +life. It made him want to shout, and sing, and whistle. He restrained +himself this morning. The thrill of the hunt was in his blood. + +While Otto saddled the horses Langdon made the bannock. He had become an +expert at what he called "wild-bread" baking, and his method possessed the +double efficiency of saving both waste and time. + +He opened one of the heavy canvas flour sacks, made a hollow in the flour +with his two doubled fists, partly filled this hollow with a pint of water +and half a cupful of caribou grease, added a tablespoonful of baking powder +and a three-finger pinch of salt, and began to mix. Inside of five minutes +he had the bannock loaves in the big tin reflector, and half an hour later +the sheep steaks were fried, the potatoes done, and the bannock baked to a +golden brown. + +The sun was just showing its face in the east when they trailed out of +camp. They rode across the valley, but walked up the slope, the horses +following obediently in their footsteps. + +It was not difficult to pick up Thor's trail. Where he had paused to snarl +back defiance at his enemies there was a big red spatter on the ground; +from this point to the summit they followed a crimson thread of blood. +Three times in descending into the other valley they found where Thor had +stopped, and each time they saw where a pool of blood had soaked into the +earth or run over the rock. + +They passed through the timber and came to the creek, and here, in a strip +of firm black sand, Thor's footprints brought them to a pause. Bruce +stared. An exclamation of amazement came from Langdon, and without a word +having passed between them he drew out his pocket-tape and knelt beside one +of the tracks. + +"Fifteen and a quarter inches!" he gasped. + +"Measure another," said Bruce. + +"Fifteen and--a half!" + +Bruce looked up the gorge. + +"The biggest I ever see was fourteen an' a half," he said, and there was a +touch of awe in his voice. "He was shot up the Athabasca an' he's stood as +the biggest grizzly ever killed in British Columbia. Jimmy, _this one beats +'im_!" + +They went on, and measured the tracks again at the edge of the first pool +where Thor had bathed his wounds. There was almost no variation in the +measurements. Only occasionally after this did they find spots of blood. It +was ten o'clock when they came to the clay wallow and saw where Thor had +made his bed in it. + +"He was pretty sick," said Bruce in a low voice. "He was here most all +night." + +Moved by the same impulse and the same thought, they looked ahead of them. +Half a mile farther on the mountains closed in until the gorge between them +was dark and sunless. + +"He was pretty sick," repeated Bruce, still looking ahead. "Mebbe we'd +better tie the horses an' go on alone. It's possible--he's in there." + +They tied the horses to scrub cedars, and relieved Dishpan of her pack. + +Then, with their rifles in readiness, and eyes and ears alert, they went on +cautiously into the silence and gloom of the gorge. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + + +Thor had gone up the gorge at daybreak. He was stiff when he rose from the +clay wallow, but a good deal of the burning and pain had gone from his +wound. It still hurt him, but not as it had hurt him the preceding evening. +His discomfort was not all in his shoulder, and it was not in any one place +in particular. He was _sick_, and had he been human he would have been in +bed with a thermometer under his tongue and a doctor holding his pulse. He +walked up the gorge slowly and laggingly. An indefatigable seeker of food, +he no longer thought of food. He was not hungry, and he did not want to +eat. + +With his hot tongue he lapped frequently at the cool water of the creek, +and even more frequently he turned half about, and sniffed the wind. He +knew that the man-smell and the strange thunder and the still more +inexplicable lightning lay behind him. All night he had been on guard, and +he was cautious now. + +For a particular hurt Thor knew of no particular remedy. He was not a +botanist in the finer sense of the word, but in creating him the Spirit of +the Wild had ordained that he should be his own physician. As a cat seeks +catnip, so Thor sought certain things when he was not feeling well. All +bitterness is not quinine, but certainly bitter things were Thor's +remedies, and as he made his way up the gorge his nose hung close to the +ground, and he sniffed in the low copses and thick bush-tangles he passed. + +He came to a small green spot covered with kinnikinic, a ground plant two +inches high which bore red berries as big as a small pea. They were not red +now, but green; bitter as gall, and contained an astringent tonic called +uvaursi. Thor ate them. + +After that he found soap berries growing on bushes that looked very much +like currant bushes. The fruit was already larger than currants, and +turning pink. Indians ate these berries when they had fever, and Thor +gathered half a pint before he went on. They, too, were bitter. + +He nosed the trees, and found at last what he wanted. It was a jackpine, +and at several places within his reach the fresh pitch was oozing. A bear +seldom passes a bleeding jackpine. It is his chief tonic, and Thor licked +the fresh pitch with his tongue. In this way he absorbed not only +turpentine, but also, in a roundabout sort of way, a whole pharmacopoeia of +medicines made from this particular element. + +By the time he arrived at the end of the gorge Thor's stomach was a fairly +well-stocked drug emporium. Among other things he had eaten perhaps half a +quart of spruce and balsam needles. When a dog is sick he eats grass; when +a bear is sick he eats pine or balsam needles if he can get them. Also he +pads his stomach and intestines with them in the last hour before denning +himself away for the winter. + +The sun was not yet up when Thor came to the end of the gorge, and stood +for a few moments at the mouth of a low cave that reached back into the +wall of the mountain. How far his memory went back it would be impossible +to say; but in the whole world, as he knew it, this cave was home. It was +not more than four feet high, and twice as wide, but it was many times as +deep and was carpeted with a soft white floor of sand. In some past age a +little stream had trickled out of this cavern, and the far end of it made a +comfortable bedroom for a sleeping bear when the temperature was fifty +degrees below zero. + +Ten years before Thor's mother had gone in there to sleep through the +winter, and when she waddled out to get her first glimpse of spring three +little cubs waddled with her. Thor was one of them. He was still half +blind, for it is five weeks after a grizzly cub is born before he can see; +and there was not much hair on his body, for a grizzly cub is born as naked +as a human baby. His eyes open and his hair begins to grow at just about +the same time. Since then Thor had denned eight times in that cavern home. + +He wanted to go in now. He wanted to lie down in the far end of it and wait +until he felt better. For perhaps two or three minutes he hesitated, +sniffing yearningly at the door to his cave, and then feeling the wind from +down the gorge. Something told him that he should go on. + +To the westward there was a sloping ascent up out of the gorge to the +summit, and Thor climbed this. The sun was well up when he reached the top, +and for a little while he rested again and looked down on the other half of +his domain. + +Even more wonderful was this valley than the one into which Bruce and +Langdon had ridden a few hours before. From range to range it was a good +two miles in width, and in the opposite directions it stretched away in a +great rolling panorama of gold and green and black. From where Thor stood +it was like an immense park. Green slopes reached almost to the summits of +the mountains, and to a point halfway up these slopes--the last +timber-line--clumps of spruce and balsam trees were scattered over the +green as if set there by the hands of men. Some of these timber-patches +were no larger than the decorative clumps in a city park, and others +covered acres and tens of acres; and at the foot of the slopes on either +side, like decorative fringes, were thin and unbroken lines of forest. +Between these two lines of forest lay the open valley of soft and +undulating meadow, dotted with its purplish bosks of buffalo willow and +mountain sage, its green coppices of wild-rose and thorn, and its clumps +of trees. In the hollow of the valley ran a stream. + +Thor descended about four hundred yards from where he stood, and then +turned northward along the green slope, so that he was travelling from +patch to patch of the parklike timber, a hundred and fifty or two hundred +yards above the fringe of forest. To this height, midway between the +meadows in the valley and the first shale and bare rock of the peaks, he +came most frequently on his small game hunts. + +Like fat woodchucks the whistlers were already beginning to sun themselves +on their rocks. Their long, soft, elusive whistlings, pleasant to hear +above the drone of mountain waters, filled the air with a musical cadence. +Now and then one would whistle shrilly and warningly close at hand, and +then flatten himself out on his rock as the big bear passed, and for a few +moments no whistling would break upon the gentle purring of the valley. + +But Thor was giving no thought to the hunt this morning. Twice he +encountered porcupines, the sweetest of all morsels to him, and passed them +unnoticed; the warm, _sleeping_ smell of a caribou came hot and fresh from +a thicket, but he did not approach the thicket to investigate; out of a +coulee, narrow and dark, like a black ditch, he caught the scent of a +badger. For two hours he travelled steadily northward along the half-crest +of the slopes before he struck down through the timber to the stream. + +The clay adhering to his wound was beginning to harden, and again he waded +shoulder-deep into a pool, and stood there for several minutes. The water +washed most of the clay away. For another two hours he followed the creek, +drinking frequently. Then came the _sapoos oowin_--six hours after he had +left the clay wallow. The kinnikinic berries, the soap berries, the +jackpine pitch, the spruce and balsam needles, and the water he had drunk, +all mixed in his stomach in one big compelling dose, brought it about--and +Thor felt tremendously better, so much better that for the first time he +turned and growled back in the direction of his enemies. His shoulder still +hurt him, but his sickness was gone. + +For many minutes after the _sapoos oowin_ he stood without moving, and many +times he growled. The snarling rumble deep in his chest had a new meaning +now. Until last night and to-day he had not known a real hatred. He had +fought other bears, but the fighting rage was not hate. It came quickly, +and passed away quickly; it left no growing ugliness; he licked the wounds +of a clawed enemy, and was quite frequently happy while he nursed them. But +this new thing that was born in him was different. + +With an unforgetable and ferocious hatred he hated the thing that had hurt +him. He hated the man-smell; he hated the strange, white-faced thing he had +seen clinging to the side of the gorge; and his hatred included everything +associated with them. It was a hatred born of instinct and roused sharply +from its long slumber by experience. + +Without ever having seen or smelled man before, he knew that man was his +deadliest enemy, and to be feared more than all the wild things in the +mountains. He would fight the biggest grizzly. He would turn on the +fiercest pack of wolves. He would brave flood and fire without flinching. +But before man he must flee! He must hide! He must constantly guard himself +in the peaks and on the plains with eyes and ears and nose! + +Why he sensed this, why he understood all at once that a creature had come +into his world, a pigmy in size, yet more to be dreaded than any foe he had +ever known, was a miracle which nature alone could explain. It was a +hearkening back in the age-dimmed mental fabric of Thor's race to the +earliest days of man--man, first of all, with the club; man with the spear +hardened in fire; man with the flint-tipped arrow; man with the trap and +the deadfall, and, lastly, man with the gun. Through all the ages man had +been his one and only master. Nature had impressed it upon him--had been +impressing it upon him through a hundred or a thousand or ten thousand +generations. + +And now for the first time in his life that dormant part of his instinct +leaped into warning wakefulness, and he understood. He hated man, and +hereafter he would hate everything that bore the man-smell. And with this +hate there was also born in him for the first time _fear_. Had man never +pushed Thor and his kind to the death the world would not have known him as +Ursus Horribilis the Terrible. + +Thor still followed the creek, nosing along slowly and lumberingly, but +very steadily; his head and neck bent low, his huge rear quarters rising +and falling in that rolling motion peculiar to all bears, and especially +so of the grizzly. His long claws _click-click-clicked_ on the stones; he +crunched heavily in the gravel; in soft sand he left enormous footprints. + +That part of the valley which he was now entering held a particular +significance for Thor, and he began to loiter, pausing often to sniff the +air on all sides of him. He was not a monogamist, but for many mating +seasons past he had come to find his _Iskwao_ in this wonderful sweep of +meadow and plain between the two ranges. He could always expect her in +July, waiting for him or seeking him with that strange savage longing of +motherhood in her breast. She was a splendid grizzly who came from the +western ranges when the spirit of mating days called; big, and strong, and +of a beautiful golden-brown colour, so that the children of Thor and his +_Iskwao_ were the finest young grizzlies in all the mountains. The mother +took them back with her unborn, and they opened their eyes and lived and +fought in the valleys and on the slopes far to the west. If in later years +Thor ever chased his own children out of his hunting grounds, or whipped +them in a fight, Nature kindly blinded him to the fact. He was like most +grouchy old bachelors: he did not like small folk. He tolerated a little +cub as a cross-grained old woman-hater might have tolerated a pink baby; +but he wasn't as cruel as Punch, for he had never killed a cub. He had +cuffed them soundly whenever they had dared to come within reach of him, +but always with the flat, soft palm of his paw, and with just enough force +behind it to send them keeling over and over like little round fluffy +balls. + +This was Thor's only expression of displeasure when a strange mother-bear +invaded his range with her cubs. In other ways he was quite chivalrous. He +would not drive the mother-bear and her cubs away, and he would not fight +with her, no matter how shrewish or unpleasant she was. Even if he found +them eating at one of his kills, he would do nothing more than give the +cubs a sound cuffing. + +All this is somewhat necessary to show with what sudden and violent +agitation Thor caught a certain warm, close smell as he came around the end +of a mass of huge boulders. He stopped, turned his head, and swore in his +low, growling way. Six feet away from him, grovelling flat in a patch of +white sand, wriggling and shaking for all the world like a half-frightened +puppy that had not yet made up its mind whether it had met a friend or an +enemy, was a lone bear cub. It was not more than three months +old--altogether too young to be away from its mother; and it had a sharp +little tan face and a white spot on its baby breast which marked it as a +member of the black bear family, and not a grizzly. + +The cub was trying as hard as it could to say, "I am lost, strayed, or +stolen; I'm hungry, and I've got a porcupine quill in my foot," but in +spite of that, with another ominous growl, Thor began to look about the +rocks for the mother. She was not in sight, and neither could he smell her, +two facts which turned his great head again toward the cub. + +Muskwa--an Indian would have called the cub that--had crawled a foot or two +nearer on his little belly. He greeted Thor's second inspection with a +genial wriggling which carried him forward another half foot, and a low +warning rumbled in Thor's chest. "Don't come any nearer," it said plainly +enough, "or I'll keel you over!" + +Muskwa understood. He lay as if dead, his nose and paws and belly flat on +the sand, and Thor looked about him again. When his eyes returned to +Muskwa, the cub was within three feet of him, squirming flat in the sand +and whimpering softly. Thor lifted his right paw four inches from the +ground. "Another inch and I'll give you a welt!" he growled. + +Muskwa wriggled and trembled; he licked his lips with his tiny red tongue, +half in fear and half pleading for mercy, and in spite of Thor's lifted paw +he wormed his way another six inches nearer. + +There was a sort of rattle instead of a growl in Thor's throat. His heavy +hand fell to the sand. A third time he looked about and sniffed the air; he +growled again. Any crusty old bachelor would have understood that growl. +"Now where the devil is the kid's mother!" it said. + +Something happened then. Muskwa had crept close to Thor's wounded leg. He +rose up, and his nose caught the scent of the raw wound. Gently his tongue +touched it. It was like velvet--that tongue. It was wonderfully pleasant to +feel, and Thor stood there for many moments, making neither movement nor +sound while the cub licked his wound. Then he lowered his great head. He +sniffed the soft little ball of friendship that had come to him. Muskwa +whined in a motherless way. Thor growled, but more softly now. It was no +longer a threat. The heat of his great tongue fell once on the cub's face. + +"Come on!" he said, and resumed his journey into the north. + +And close at his heels followed the motherless little tan-faced cub. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + + +The creek which Thor was following was a tributary of the Babine, and he +was headed pretty nearly straight for the Skeena. As he was travelling +upstream the country was becoming higher and rougher. He had come perhaps +seven or eight miles from the summit of the divide when he found Muskwa. +From this point the slopes began to assume a different aspect. They were +cut up by dark, narrow gullies, and broken by enormous masses of rocks, +jagged cuffs, and steep slides of shale. The creek became noisier and more +difficult to follow. + +Thor was now entering one of his strongholds: a region which contained a +thousand hiding-places, if he had wanted to hide; a wild, uptorn country +where it was not difficult for him to kill big game, and where he was +certain that the man-smell would not follow him. + +For half an hour after leaving the mass of rocks where he had encountered +Muskwa, Thor lumbered on as if utterly oblivious of the fact that the cub +was following. But he could hear him and smell him. + +Muskwa was having a hard time of it. His fat little body and his fat little +legs were unaccustomed to this sort of journeying, but he was a game +youngster, and only twice did he whimper in that half-hour--once he toppled +off a rock into the edge of the creek, and again when he came down too hard +on the porcupine quill in his foot. + +At last Thor abandoned the creek and turned up a deep ravine, which he +followed until he came to a dip, or plateau-like plain, halfway up a broad +slope. Here he found a rock on the sunny side of a grassy knoll, and +stopped. It may be that little Muskwa's babyish friendship, the caress of +his soft little red tongue at just the psychological moment, and his +perseverance in following Thor had all combined to touch a responsive chord +in the other's big brute heart, for after nosing about restlessly for a few +moments Thor stretched himself out beside the rock. Not until then did the +utterly exhausted little tan-faced cub lie down, but when he did lie down +he was so dead tired that he was sound asleep in three minutes. + +Twice again during the early part of the afternoon the _sapoos oowin_ +worked on Thor, and he began to feel hungry. It was not the sort of hunger +to be appeased by ants and grubs, or even gophers and whistlers. It may be, +too, that he guessed how nearly starved little Muskwa was. The cub had not +once opened his eyes, and he still lay in his warm pool of sunshine when +Thor made up his mind to go on. + +It was about three o'clock, a particularly quiet and drowsy part of a late +June or early July day in a northern mountain valley. The whistlers had +piped until they were tired, and lay squat out in the sunshine on their +rocks; the eagles soared so high above the peaks that they were mere dots; +the hawks, with meat-filled crops, had disappeared into the timber; goat +and sheep were lying down far up toward the sky-line, and if there were any +grazing animals near they were well fed and napping. + +The mountain hunter knew that this was the hour when he should scan the +green slopes and the open places between the clumps of timber for bears, +and especially for flesh-eating bears. + +It was Thor's chief prospecting hour. Instinct told him that when all +other creatures were well fed and napping he could move more openly and +with less fear of detection. He could find his game, and watch it. +Occasionally he would kill a goat or a sheep or a caribou in broad +daylight, for over short distances he could run faster than either a goat +or a sheep, and as fast as a caribou. But chiefly he killed at sunset or in +the darkness of early evening. + +Thor rose from beside the rock with a prodigious whoof that roused Muskwa. +The cub got up, blinked at Thor and then at the sun, and shook himself +until he fell down. + +Thor eyed the black and tan mite a bit sourly. After the _sapoos oowin_ he +was craving red, juicy flesh, just as a very hungry man yearns for a thick +porterhouse instead of lady fingers or mayonnaise salad--flesh and plenty +of it; and how he could hunt down and kill a caribou with that half-starved +but very much interested cub at his heels puzzled him. + +Muskwa himself seemed to understand and answer the question. He ran a dozen +yards ahead of Thor, then stopped and looked back impudently, his little +ears perked forward, and with the look in his face of a small boy proving +to his father that he is perfectly qualified to go on his first rabbit +hunt. + +With another _whoof_ Thor started along the slope in a spurt that brought +him up to Muskwa immediately, and with a sudden sweep of his right paw he +sent the cub rolling a dozen feet behind him, a manner of speech that said +plainly enough, "That's where you belong if you're going hunting with me!" + +Then Thor lumbered slowly on, eyes and ears and nostrils keyed for the +hunt. He descended until he was not more than a hundred yards above the +creek, and he no longer sought out the easiest trail, but the rough and +broken places. He travelled slowly and in a zigzag fashion, stealing +cautiously around great masses of boulders, sniffing up each coulee that he +came to, and investigating the timber clumps and windfalls. + +At one time he would be so high up that he was close to the bare shale, and +again so low down that he walked in the sand and gravel of the creek. He +caught many scents in the wind, but none that held or deeply interested +him. Once, up near the shale, he smelled goat; but he never went above the +shale for meat. Twice he smelled sheep, and late in the afternoon he saw a +big ram looking down on him from a precipitous crag a hundred feet above. + +Lower down his nose touched the trails of porcupines, and often his head +hung over the footprints of caribou as he sniffed the air ahead. + +There were other bears in the valley, too. Mostly these had travelled along +the creek-bottom, showing they were blacks or cinnamons. Once Thor struck +the scent of another grizzly, and he rumbled ill-humouredly. + +Not once in the two hours after they left the sunrock did Thor pay any +apparent attention to Muskwa, who was growing hungrier and weaker as the +day lengthened. No boy that ever lived was gamer than the little tan-faced +cub. In the rough places he stumbled and fell frequently; up places that +Thor could make in a single step he had to fight desperately to make his +way; three times Thor waded through the creek and Muskwa half drowned +himself in following; he was battered and bruised and wet and his foot hurt +him--but he followed. Sometimes he was close to Thor, and at others he had +to run to catch up. The sun was setting when Thor at last found game, and +Muskwa was almost dead. + +He did not know why Thor flattened his huge bulk suddenly alongside a rock +at the edge of a rough meadow, from which they could look down into a small +hollow. He wanted to whimper, but he was afraid. And if he had ever wanted +his mother at any time in his short life he wanted her now. He could not +understand why she had left him among the rocks and had never come back; +that tragedy Langdon and Bruce were to discover a little later. And he +could not understand why she did not come to him now. This was just about +his nursing hour before going to sleep for the night, for he was a March +cub, and, according to the most approved mother-bear regulations, should +have had milk for another month. + +He was what Metoosin, the Indian, would have called _munookow_--that is, he +was very soft. Being a bear, his birth had not been like that of other +animals. His mother, like all mother-bears in a cold country, had brought +him into life a long time before she had finished her winter nap in her +den. He had come while she was asleep. For a month or six weeks after +that, while he was still blind and naked, she had given him milk, while she +herself neither ate nor drank nor saw the light of day. At the end of those +six weeks she had gone forth with him from her den to seek the first +mouthful of sustenance for herself. Not more than another six weeks had +passed since then, and Muskwa weighed about twenty pounds--that is, he had +weighed twenty pounds, but he was emptier now than he had ever been in his +life, and probably weighed a little less. + +Three hundred yards below Thor was a clump of balsams, a small thick patch +that grew close to the edge of the miniature lake whose water crept around +the farther end of the hollow. In that clump there was a caribou--perhaps +two or three. Thor knew that as surely as though he saw them. The +_wenipow_, or "lying down," smell of hoofed game was as different from the +_nechisoo_, or "grazing smell," to Thor as day from night. One hung +elusively in the air, like the faint and shifting breath of a passing +woman's scented dress and hair; the other came hot and heavy, close to the +earth, like the odour of a broken bottle of perfume. + +Even Muskwa now caught the scent as he crept up close behind the big +grizzly and lay down. + +For fully ten minutes Thor did not move. His eyes took in the hollow, the +edge of the lake, and the approach to the timber, and his nose gauged the +wind as accurately as the pointing of a compass. The reason he remained +quiet was that he was almost on the danger-line. In other words, the +mountains and the sudden dip had formed a "split wind" in the hollow, and +had Thor appeared fifty yards above where he now crouched, the keen-scented +caribou would have got full wind of him. + +With his little ears cocked forward and a new gleam of understanding in his +eyes, Muskwa now looked upon his first lesson in game-stalking. Crouched so +low that he seemed to be travelling on his belly, Thor moved slowly and +noiselessly toward the creek, the huge ruff just forward of his shoulders +standing out like the stiffened spine of a dog's back. Muskwa followed. For +fully a hundred yards Thor continued his detour, and three times in that +hundred yards he paused to sniff in the direction of the timber. At last he +was satisfied. The wind was full in his face, and it was rich with promise. + +[Illustration: "Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, +swung a little to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still +like a huge ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done."] + +He began to advance, in a slinking, rolling, rock-shouldered motion, +taking shorter steps now, and with every muscle in his great body ready for +action. Within two minutes he reached the edge of the balsams, and there he +paused again. The crackling of underbrush came distinctly. The caribou were +up, but they were not alarmed. They were going forth to drink and graze. + +Thor moved again, parallel to the sound. This brought him quickly to the +edge of the timber, and there he stood, concealed by foliage, but with the +lake and the short stretch of meadow in view. A big bull caribou came out +first. His horns were half grown, and in velvet. A two-year-old followed, +round and sleek and glistening like brown velvet in the sunset. For two +minutes the bull stood alert, eyes, ears, and nostrils seeking for +danger-signals; at his heels the younger animal nibbled less suspiciously +at the grass. Then lowering his head until his antlers swept back over his +shoulders the old bull started slowly toward the lake for his evening +drink. The two-year-old followed--and Thor came out softly from his +hiding-place. + +For a single moment he seemed to gather himself--and then he started. +Fifty feet separated him from the caribou. He had covered half that +distance like a huge rolling ball when the animals heard him. They were off +like arrows sprung from the bow. But they were too late. It would have +taken a swift horse to beat Thor and he had already gained momentum. + +Like the wind he bore down on the flank of the two-year-old, swung a little +to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still like a huge +ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done. + +His huge right arm swung over the two-year-old's shoulder, and as they went +down his left paw gripped the caribou's muzzle like a huge human hand. Thor +fell under, as he always planned to fall. He did not hug his victim to +death. Just once he doubled up one of his hind legs, and when it went back +the five knives it carried disembowelled the caribou. They not only +disembowelled him, but twisted and broke his ribs as though they were of +wood. Then Thor got up, looked around, and shook himself with a rumbling +growl which might have been either a growl of triumph or an invitation for +Muskwa to come to the feast. + +If it was an invitation, the little tan-faced cab did not wait for a +second. For the first time he smelled and tasted the warm blood of meat. +And this smell and taste had come at the psychological moment in his life, +just as it had come in Thor's life years before. All grizzlies are not +killers of big game. In fact, very few of them are. Most of them are +chiefly vegetarians, with a meat diet of smaller animals, such as gophers, +whistling marmots, and porcupines. Now and then chance makes of a grizzly a +hunter of caribou, goat, sheep, deer, and even moose. Such was Thor. And +such, in days to come, would Muskwa be, even though he was a black and not +of the family Ursus Horribilis Ord. + +For an hour the two feasted, not in the ravenous way of hungry dogs, but in +the slow and satisfying manner of gourmets. Muskwa, flat on his little +paunch, and almost between Thor's huge forearms, lapped up the blood and +snarled like a kitten as he ground tender flesh between his tiny teeth. +Thor, as in all his food-seeking, hunted first for the tidbits, though the +_sapoos oovin_ had made him as empty as a room without furniture. He pulled +out the thin leafs of fat from about the kidneys and bowels, and munched +at yard-long strings of it, his eyes half closed. + +The last of the sun faded away from the mountains, and darkness followed +swiftly after the twilight. It was dark when they finished, and little +Muskwa was as wide as he was long. + +Thor was the greatest of nature's conservators. With him nothing went to +waste that was good to eat, and at the present moment if the old bull +caribou had deliberately walked within his reach Thor in all probability +would not have killed him. He had food, and his business was to store that +food where it would be safe. + +He went back to the balsam thicket, but the gorged cub now made no effort +to follow him. He was vastly contented, and something told him that Thor +would not leave the meat. Ten minutes later Thor verified his judgment by +returning. In his huge jaws he caught the caribou at the back of the neck. +Then he swung himself partly sidewise and began dragging the carcass toward +the timber as a dog might have dragged a ten-pound slab of bacon. + +The young bull probably weighed four hundred pounds. Had he weighed eight +hundred, or even a thousand, Thor would still have dragged him--but had +the carcass weighed that much he would have turned straight around and +_backed_ with his load. + +In the edge of the balsams Thor had already found a hollow in the ground. +He thrust the carcass into this hollow, and while Muskwa watched with a +great and growing interest, he proceeded to cover it over with dry needles, +sticks, a rotting tree butt, and a log. He did not rear himself up and +leave his "mark" on a tree as a warning to other bears. He simply nosed +round for a bit, and then went out of the timber. + +Muskwa followed him now, and he had some trouble in properly navigating +himself under the handicap of his added weight. The stars were beginning to +fill the sky, and under these stars Thor struck straight up a steep and +rugged slope that led to the mountain-tops. Up and up he went, higher than +Muskwa had ever been. They crossed a patch of snow. And then they came to a +place where it seemed as if a volcano had disrupted the bowels of a +mountain. Man could hardly have travelled where Thor led Muskwa. + +At last he stopped. He was on a narrow ledge, with a perpendicular wall of +rock at his back. Under him fell away the chaos of torn-up rock and shale. +Far below the valley lay a black and bottomless pit. + +Thor lay down, and for the first time since his hurt in the other valley he +stretched out his head between his great arms, and heaved a deep and +restful sigh. Muskwa crept up close to him, so close that he was warmed by +Thor's body; and together they slept the deep and peaceful sleep of full +stomachs, while over them the stars grew brighter, and the moon came up to +flood the peaks and the valley in a golden splendour. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + + +Langdon and Bruce crossed the summit into the westward valley in the +afternoon of the day Thor left the clay wallow. It was two o'clock when +Bruce turned back for the three horses, leaving Langdon on a high ridge to +scour the surrounding country through his glasses. For two hours after the +packer returned with the outfit they followed slowly along the creek above +which the grizzly had travelled, and when they camped for the night they +were still two or three miles from the spot where Thor came upon Muskwa. +They had not yet found his tracks in the sand of the creek bottom. Yet +Bruce was confident. He knew that Thor had been following the crests of the +slopes. + +"If you go back out of this country an' write about bears, don't make a +fool o' yo'rself like most of the writin' fellows, Jimmy," he said, as they +sat back to smoke their pipes after supper. "Two years ago I took a +natcherlist out for a month, an' he was so tickled he said 'e'd send me a +bunch o' books about bears an' wild things. He did! I read 'em. I laughed +at first, an' then I got mad an' made a fire of 'em. Bears is cur'ous. +There's a mighty lot of interestin' things to say about 'em without making +a fool o' yo'rself. There sure is!" + +Langdon nodded. + +"One has to hunt and kill and hunt and kill for years before he discovers +the real pleasure in big game stalking," he said slowly, looking into the +fire. "And when he comes down to that real pleasure, the part of it that +absorbs him heart and soul, he finds that after all the big thrill isn't in +killing, but in letting live. I want this grizzly, and I'm going to have +him. I won't leave the mountains until I kill him. But, on the other hand, +we could have killed two other bears to-day, and I didn't take a shot. I'm +learning the game, Bruce--I'm beginning to taste the real pleasure of +hunting. And when one hunts in the right way one learns facts. You needn't +worry. I'm going to put only facts in what I write." + +Suddenly he turned and looked at Bruce. + +"What were some of the 'fool things' you read in those books?" he asked. + +Bruce blew out a cloud of smoke reflectively. + +"What made me maddest," he said, "was what those writer fellows said about +bears havin' 'marks.' Good Lord, accordin' to what they said all a bear has +to do is stretch 'imself up, put a mark on a tree, and that country is +his'n until a bigger bear comes along an' licks 'im. In one book I remember +where a grizzly rolled a log up under a tree so he could stand on it an' +put his mark above another grizzly's mark. Think of that! + +"No bear makes a mark that means anything. I've seen grizzlies bite hunks +out o' trees an' scratch 'em just as a cat might, an' in the summer when +they get itchy an' begin to lose their hair they stand up an' rub against +trees. They rub because they itch an' not because they're leavin' their +cards for other bears. Caribou an' moose an' deer do the same thing to get +the velvet off their horns. + +"Them same writers think every grizzly has his own range, an' they +don't--not by a long shot they don't! I've seen eight full-grown grizzlies +feedin' on the same slide! You remember, two years ago, we shot four +grizzlies in a little valley that wasn't a mile long. Now an' then there's +a boss among grizzlies, like this fellow we're after, but even he ain't +got his range alone. I'll bet there's twenty other bears in these two +valleys! An' that natcherlist I had two years ago couldn't tell a grizzly's +track from a black bear's track, an so 'elp me if he knew what a cinnamon +was!" + +He took his pipe from his mouth and spat truculently into the fire, and +Langdon knew that other things were coming. His richest hours were those +when the usually silent Bruce fell into these moods. + +"A cinnamon!" he growled. "Think of that, Jimmy--he thought there were such +a thing as a cinnamon bear! An' when I told him there wasn't, an' that the +cinnamon bear you read about is a black or a grizzly of a cinnamon colour, +he laughed at me--an' there I was born an' brung up among bears! His eyes +fair popped when I told him about the colour o' bears, an' he thought I was +feedin' him rope. I figgered afterward mebby that was why he sent me the +books. He wanted to show me he was right. + +"Jimmy, there ain't anything on earth that's got more colours than a bear! +I've seen black bears as white as snow, an' I've seen grizzlies almost as +black as a black bear. I've seen cinnamon black bears an' I've seen +cinnamon grizzlies, an' I've seen browns an' golds an' almost-yellows of +both kinds. They're as different in colour as they are in their natchurs +an' way of eatin'. + +"I figger most natcherlists go out an' get acquainted with one grizzly, an' +then they write up all grizzlies accordin' to that one. That ain't fair to +the grizzlies, darned if it is! There wasn't one of them books that didn't +say the grizzly wasn't the fiercest, man-eatingest cuss alive. He +ain't--unless you corner 'im. He's as cur'ous as a kid, an' he's +good-natured if you don't bother 'im. Most of 'em are vegetarians, but some +of 'em ain't. I've seen grizzlies pull down goat an' sheep an' caribou, an' +I've seen other grizzlies feed on the same slides with them animals an' +never make a move toward them. They're cur'ous, Jimmy. There's lots you can +say about 'em without makin' a fool o' yourself!" + +Bruce beat the ash out of his pipe as an emphasis to his final remark. As +he reloaded with fresh tobacco, Langdon said: + +"You can make up your mind this big fellow we are after is a game-killer, +Bruce." + +"You can't tell," replied Bruce. "Size don't always tell. I knew a grizzly +once that wasn't much bigger'n a dog, an' he was a game-killer. Hundreds of +animals are winter-killed in these mount'ins every year, an' when spring +comes the bears eat the carcasses; but old flesh don't make game-killers. +Sometimes it's born in a grizzly to be a killer, an' sometimes he becomes a +killer by chance. If he kills once, he'll kill again. + +"Once I was on the side of a mount'in an' saw a goat walk straight into the +face of a grizzly. The bear wasn't going to make a move, but the goat was +so scared it ran plump into the old fellow, and he killed it. He acted +mighty surprised for ten minutes afterward, an' he sniffed an' nosed around +the warm carcass for half an hour before he tore it open. That was his +first taste of what you might call live game. I didn't kill him, an' I'm +sure from that day on he was a big-game hunter." + +"I should think size would have something to do with it," argued Langdon. +"It seems to me that a bear which eats flesh would be bigger and stronger +than if he was a vegetarian." + +"That's one o' the cur'ous things you want to write about," replied Bruce, +with one of his odd chuckles. "Why is it a bear gets so fat he can hardly +walk along in September when he don't feed on much else but berries an' +ants an' grubs? Would you get fat on wild currants? + +"An' why does he grow so fast during the four or five months he's denned up +an' dead to the world without a mouthful to eat or drink? + +"Why is it that for a month, an' sometimes two months, the mother gives her +cubs milk while she's still what you might call asleep? Her nap ain't much +more'n two-thirds over when the cubs are born. + +"And why ain't them cubs bigger'n they are? That natcherlist laughed until +I thought he'd split when I told him a grizzly bear cub wasn't much +bigger'n a house-cat kitten when born!" + +"He was one of the few fools who aren't willing to learn--and yet you +cannot blame him altogether," said Langdon. "Four or five years ago I +wouldn't have believed it, Bruce. I couldn't actually believe it until we +dug out those cubs up the Athabasca--one weighed eleven ounces and the +other nine. You remember?" + +"An' they were a week old, Jimmy. An' the mother weighed eight hundred +pounds." + +For a few moments they both puffed silently on their pipes. + +"Almost--inconceivable," said Langdon then. "And yet it's true. And it +isn't a freak of nature, Bruce--it's simply a result of Nature's +far-sightedness. If the cubs were as large comparatively as a house-cat's +kittens the mother-bear could not sustain them during those weeks when she +eats and drinks nothing herself. There seems to be just one flaw in this +scheme: an ordinary black bear is only about half as large as a grizzly, +yet a black bear cub when born is much larger than a grizzly cub. Now why +the devil that should be--" + +Bruce interrupted his friend with a good-natured laugh. + +"That's easy--easy, Jimmy!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember last year when +we picked strawberries in the valley an' threw snowballs two hours later up +on the mountain? Higher you climb the colder it gets, don't it? Right +now--first day of July--you'd half freeze up on some of those peaks! A +grizzly dens high, Jimmy, and a black bear dens low. When the snow is four +feet deep up where the grizzly dens, the black bear can still feed in the +deep valleys an' thick timber. He goes to bed mebby a week or two weeks +later than the grizzly, an' he gets up in the spring a week or two weeks +earlier; he's fatter when he dens up an' he ain't so poor when he comes +out--an' so the mother's got more strength to give to her cubs. It looks +that way to me." + +"You've hit the nail on the head as sure as you're a year old!" cried +Langdon enthusiastically. "Bruce, I never thought of that!" + +"There's a good many things you don't think about until you run across +'em," said the mountaineer. "It's what you said a while ago--such things +are what makes huntin' a fine sport when you've learned huntin' ain't +always killin'--but lettin' live. One day I lay seven hours on a +mountain-top watchin' a band o' sheep at play, an' I had more fun than if +I'd killed the whole bunch." + +Bruce rose to his feet and stretched himself, an after-supper operation +that always preceded his announcement that he was going to turn in. + +"Fine day to-morrow," he said, yawning. "Look how white the snow is on the +peaks." + +"Bruce--" + +"What?" + +"How heavy is this bear we're after?" + +"Twelve hundred pounds--mebby a little more. I didn't have the pleasure of +lookin' at him so close as you did, Jimmy. If I had we'd been dryin' his +skin now!" + +"And he's in his prime?" + +"Between eight and twelve years old, I'd say, by the way he went up the +slope. An old bear don't roll so easy." + +"You've run across some pretty old bears, Bruce?" + +"So old some of 'em needed crutches," said Bruce, unlacing his boots. "I've +shot bears so old they'd lost their teeth." + +"How old?" + +"Thirty--thirty-five--mebby forty years. Good-night, Jimmy!" + +"Good-night, Bruce!" + +Langdon was awakened some time hours later by a deluge of rain that brought +him out of his blankets with a yell to Bruce. They had not put up their +tepee, and a moment later he heard Bruce anathematizing their idiocy. The +night was as black as a cavern, except when it was broken by lurid flashes +of lightning, and the mountains rolled and rumbled with deep thunder. +Disentangling himself from his drenched blanket, Langdon stood up. A glare +of lightning revealed Bruce sitting in his blankets, his hair dripping down +over his long, lean face, and at sight of him Langdon laughed outright. + +[Illustration: "They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their +saddles to look at every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not +gone a quarter of a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation and +stopped."] + +"Fine day to-morrow," he taunted, repeating Bruce's words of a few hours +before. "Look how white the snow is on the peaks!" + +Whatever Bruce said was drowned in a crash of thunder. + +Langdon waited for another lightning flash and then dove for the shelter of +a thick balsam. Under this he crouched for five or ten minutes, when the +rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The thunder rolled southward, and +the lightning went with it. In the darkness he heard Bruce fumbling +somewhere near. Then a match was lighted, and he saw his comrade looking at +his watch. + +"Pretty near three o'clock," he said. "Nice shower, wasn't it?" + +"I rather expected it," replied Langdon carelessly. "You know, Bruce, +whenever the snow on the peaks is so white--" + +"Shut up--an' let's get a fire! Good thing we had sense enough to cover our +grub with the blankets. Are yo' wet?" + +Langdon was wringing the water from his hair. He felt like a drowned rat. + +"No. I was under a thick balsam, and prepared for it. When you called my +attention to the whiteness of the snow on the peaks I knew--" + +"Forget the snow," growled Bruce, and Langdon could hear him breaking off +dry pitch-filled twigs under a spruce. + +He went to help him, and five minutes later they had a fire going. The +light illumined their faces, and each saw that the other was not unhappy. +Bruce was grinning under his sodden hair. + +"I was dead asleep when it came," he explained. "An' I thought I'd fallen +in a lake. I woke up tryin' to swim." + +An early July rain at three o'clock in the morning in the northern British +Columbia mountains is not as warm as it might be, and for the greater part +of an hour Langdon and Bruce continued to gather fuel and dry their +blankets and clothing. It was five o'clock before they had breakfast, and a +little after six when they started with their two saddles and single pack +up the valley. Bruce had the satisfaction of reminding Langdon that his +prediction had come true for a glorious day followed the thunder shower. + +Under them the meadows were dripping. The valley purred louder with the +music of the swollen streamlets. From the mountain-tops a half of last +night's snow was gone, and to Langdon the flowers seemed taller and more +beautiful. The air that drifted through the valley was laden with the +sweetness and freshness of the morning, and over and through it all the sun +shone in a warm and golden sea. + +They headed up the creek-bottom, bending over from their saddles to look at +every strip of sand they passed for tracks. They had not gone a quarter of +a mile when Bruce gave a sudden exclamation, and stopped. He pointed to a +round patch of sand in which Thor had left one of his huge footprints. +Langdon dismounted and measured it. + +"It's he!" he cried, and there was a thrill of excitement in his voice. +"Hadn't we better go on without the horses, Bruce?" + +The mountaineer shook his head. But before he voiced an opinion he got down +from his horse and scanned the sides of the mountains ahead of them through +his long telescope. Langdon used his double-barrelled hunting glass. They +discovered nothing. + +"He's still in the creek-bottom, an' he's probably three or four miles +ahead," said Bruce. "We'll ride on a couple o' miles an' find a place good +for the horses. The grass an' bushes will be dry then." + +It was easy to follow Thor's course after this, for he had hung close to +the creek. Within three or four hundred yards of the great mass of boulders +where the grizzly had come upon the tan-faced cub was a small copse of +spruce in the heart of a grassy dip, and here the hunters stripped and +hobbled their horses. Twenty minutes later they had come up cautiously to +the soft carpet of sand where Thor and Muskwa had become acquainted. The +heavy rain had obliterated the cub's tiny footprints, but the sand was cut +up by the grizzly's tracks. The packer's teeth gleamed as he looked at +Langdon. + +"He ain't very far," he whispered. "Shouldn't wonder if he spent the night +pretty close an' he's mooshing on just ahead of us." + +He wet a finger and held it above his head to get the wind. He nodded +significantly. + +"We'd better get up on the slopes," he said. + +They made their way around the end of the boulders, holding their guns in +readiness, and headed for a small coulee that promised an easy ascent of +the first slope. At the mouth of this both paused again. Its bottom was +covered with sand, and in this sand were the tracks of another bear. Bruce +dropped on his knees. + +"It's another grizzly," said Langdon. + +"No, it ain't; it's a black," said Bruce. "Jimmy, can't I ever knock into +yo'r head the difference between a black an' a grizzly track? This is the +hind foot, an' the heel is round. If it was a grizzly it would be pointed. +An' it's too broad an' clubby f'r a grizzly, an' the claws are too long f'r +the length of the foot. It's a black as plain as the nose on yo'r face!" + +"And going our way," said Langdon. "Come on!" Two hundred yards up the +coulee the bear had climbed out on the slope. Langdon and Bruce followed. +In the thick grass and hard shale of the first crest of the slope the +tracks were quickly lost, but the hunters were not much interested in these +tracks now. From the height at which they were travelling they had a +splendid view below them. + +Not once did Bruce take his eyes from the creek bottom. He knew that it was +down there they would find the grizzly, and he was interested in nothing +else just at present. Langdon, on the other hand, was interested in +everything that might be living or moving about them; every mass of rock +and thicket of thorn held possibilities for him, and his eyes were questing +the higher ridges and the peaks as well as their immediate trail. It was +because of this that he saw something which made him suddenly grip his +companion's arm and pull him down beside him on the ground. + +"Look!" he whispered, stretching out an arm. + +From his kneeling posture Bruce stared. His eyes fairly popped in +amazement. Not more than thirty feet above them was a big rock shaped like +a dry-goods box, and protruding from behind the farther side of this rock +was the rear half of a bear. It was a black bear, its glossy coat shining +in the sunlight. For a full half minute Bruce continued to stare. Then he +grinned. + +"Asleep--dead asleep! Jimmy--you want to see some fun?" + +He put down his gun and drew out his long hunting knife. He chuckled softly +as he felt of its keen point. + +"If you never saw a bear run yo'r goin' to see one run now, Jimmy! You stay +here!" + +He began crawling slowly and quietly up the slope toward the rock, while +Langdon held his breath in anticipation of what was about to happen. Twice +Bruce looked back, and he was grinning broadly. There was undoubtedly going +to be a very much astonished bear racing for the tops of the Rocky +Mountains in another moment or two, and between this thought and the +picture of Bruce's long lank figure snaking its way upward foot by foot the +humour of the situation fell upon Langdon. Finally Bruce reached the rock. +The long knife-blade gleamed in the sun; then it shot forward and a half +inch of steel buried itself in the bear's rump. What followed in the next +thirty seconds Langdon would never forget. The bear made no movement. Bruce +jabbed again. Still there was no movement, and at the second thrust Bruce +remained as motionless as the rock against which he was crouching, and his +mouth was wide open as he stared down at Langdon. + +"Now what the devil do you think of that?" he said, and rose slowly to his +feet. "He ain't asleep--he's dead!" + +Langdon ran up to him, and they went around the end of the rock. Bruce +still held the knife in his hand and there was an odd expression in his +face--a look that put troubled furrows between his eyes as he stood for a +moment without speaking. + +"I never see anything like that before," he said, slowly slipping his knife +in its sheath. "It's a she-bear, an' she had cubs--pretty young cubs, too, +from the looks o' her.' + +"She was after a whistler, and undermined the rock," added Langdon. +"Crushed to death, eh, Bruce?" + +Bruce nodded. + +"I never see anything like it before," he repeated. "I've wondered why they +didn't get killed by diggin' under the rocks--but I never see it. Wonder +where the cubs are? Poor little devils!" + +He was on his knees examining the dead mother's teats. + +"She didn't have more'n two--mebby one," he said, rising. "About three +months old." + +"And they'll starve?" + +"If there was only one he probably will. The little cuss had so much milk +he didn't have to forage for himself. Cubs is a good deal like babies--you +can wean 'em early or you can ha'f grow 'em on pap. An' this is what comes +of runnin' off an' leavin' your babies alone," moralized Bruce. "If you +ever git married, Jimmy, don't you let yo'r wife do it. Sometimes th' +babies burn up or break their necks!" + +Again he turned along the crest of the slope, his eyes once more searching +the valley, and Langdon followed a step behind him, wondering what had +become of the cub. + +And Muskwa, still slumbering on the rock-ledge with Thor, was dreaming of +the mother who lay crushed under the rock on the slope, and as he dreamed +he whimpered softly. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + + +The ledge where Thor and Muskwa lay caught the first gleams of the morning +sun, and as the sun rose higher the ledge grew warmer and warmer, and Thor, +when he awoke, merely stretched himself and made no effort to rise. After +his wounds and the _sapoos oowin_ and the feast in the valley he was +feeling tremendously fine and comfortable, and he was in no very great +haste to leave this golden pool of sunlight. For a long time he looked +steadily and curiously at Muskwa. In the chill of the night the little cub +had snuggled up close between the warmth of Thor's huge forearms, and still +lay there, whimpering in his babyish way as he dreamed. + +After a time Thor did something that he had never been guilty of before--he +sniffed gently at the soft little ball between his paws, and just once his +big flat red tongue touched the cub's face; and Muskwa, perhaps still +dreaming of his mother, snuggled closer. As little white children have won +the hearts of savages who were about to slay them, so Muskwa had come +strangely into the life of Thor. + +The big grizzly was still puzzled. Not only was he struggling against an +unaccountable dislike of all cubs in general, but also against the firmly +established habits of ten years of aloneness. Yet he was beginning to +comprehend that there was something very pleasant and companionable in the +nearness of Muskwa. With the coming of man a new emotion had entered into +his being--perhaps only the spark of an emotion. Until one has enemies, and +faces dangers, one cannot fully appreciate friendship--and it may be that +Thor, who now confronted real enemies and a real danger for the first time, +was beginning to understand what friendship meant. Also it was drawing near +to his mating season, and about Muskwa was the scent of his mother. And so +as Muskwa continued to bask and dream in the sunshine, there was a growing +content in Thor. + +He looked down into the valley, shimmering in the wet of the night's rain, +and he saw nothing to rouse discontent; he sniffed the air, and it was +filled with the unpolluted sweetness of growing grass, of flowers, and +balsam, and water fresh from the clouds. + +Thor began to lick his wound, and it was this movement that roused Muskwa. +The cub lifted his head. He blinked at the sun for a moment--then rubbed +his face sleepily with his tiny paw and stood up. Like all youngsters, he +was ready for another day, in spite of the hardships and toil of the +preceding one. + +While Thor still lay restfully looking down into the valley, Muskwa began +investigating the crevices in the rock wall, and tumbled about among the +boulders on the ledge. + +From the valley Thor turned his eyes to the cub. There was curiosity in his +attitude as he watched Muskwa's antics and queer tumblings among the rocks. +Then he rose cumbrously and shook himself. + +For at least five minutes he stood looking down into the valley, and +sniffing the wind, as motionless as though carven out of rock. And Muskwa, +perking up his little ears, came and stood beside him, his sharp little +eyes peering from Thor off into sunlit space, and then back to Thor again, +as if wondering what was about to happen next. + +The big grizzly answered the question. He turned along the rock shelf and +began descending into the valley. Muskwa tagged behind, just as he had +followed the day before. The cub felt twice as big and fully twice as +strong as yesterday, and he no longer was obsessed by that uncomfortable +yearning for his mother's milk. Thor had graduated him quickly, and he was +a meat-eater. And he knew they were returning to where they had feasted +last night. + +They had descended half the distance of the slope when the wind brought +something to Thor. A deep-chested growl rolled out of him as he stopped for +a moment, the thick ruff about his neck bristling ominously. The scent he +had caught came from the direction of his cache, and it was an odour which +he was not in a humour to tolerate in this particular locality. Strongly he +smelled the presence of another bear. This would not have excited him under +ordinary conditions, and it would not have excited him now had the presence +been that of a female bear. But the scent was that of a he-bear, and it +drifted strongly up a rock-cut ravine that ran straight down toward the +balsam patch in which he had hidden the caribou. + +Thor stopped to ask himself no questions. Growling under his breath, he +began to descend so swiftly that Muskwa had great difficulty in keeping up +with him. Not until they came to the edge of the plain that overlooked the +lake and the balsams did they stop. Muskwa's little jaws hung open as he +panted. Then his ears pricked forward, he stared, and suddenly every muscle +in his small body became rigid. + +Seventy-five yards below them their cache was being outraged. The robber +was a huge black bear. He was a splendid outlaw. He was, perhaps, three +hundred pounds lighter than Thor, but he stood almost as high, and in the +sunlight his coat shone with the velvety gloss of sable--the biggest and +boldest bear that had entered Thor's domain in many a day. He had pulled +the caribou carcass from its hiding-place and was eating as Thor and Muskwa +looked down on him. + +After a moment Muskwa peered up questioningly at Thor. "What are we going +to do?" he seemed to ask. "He's got our dinner!" + +Slowly and very deliberately Thor began picking his way down those last +seventy-five yards. He seemed to be in no hurry bow. + +When he reached the edge of the meadow, perhaps thirty or forty yards from +the big invader, he stopped again. There was nothing particularly ugly in +his attitude, but the ruff about his shoulders was bigger than Muskwa had +ever seen it before. + +The black looked up from his feast, and for a full half minute they eyed +each other. In a slow, pendulum-like motion the grizzly's huge head swung +from side to side; the black was as motionless as a sphinx. + +Four or five feet from Thor stood Muskwa. In a small-boyish sort of way he +knew that something was going to happen soon, and in that same small-boyish +way he was ready to put his stub of a tail between his legs and flee with +Thor, or advance and fight with him. His eyes were curiously attracted by +that pendulum-like swing of Thor's head. All nature understood that swing. +Man had learned to understand it. "Look out when a grizzly rolls his head!" +is the first commandment of the bear-hunter in the mountains. + +The big black understood, and like other bears in Thor's domain, he should +have slunk a little backward, turned about and made his exit. Thor gave +him ample time. But the black was a new bear in the valley--and he was not +only that: he was a powerful bear, and unwhipped; and he had overlorded a +range of his own. He stood his ground. + +The first growl of menace that passed between the two came from the black. + +Again Thor advanced, slowly and deliberately--straight for the robber. +Muskwa followed halfway and then stopped and squatted himself on his belly. +Ten feet from the carcass Thor paused again; and now his huge head swung +more swiftly back and forth, and a low rumbling thunder came from between +his half-open jaws. The black's ivory fangs snarled; Muskwa whined. + +Again Thor advanced, a foot at a time, and now his gaping jaws almost +touched the ground, and his huge body was hunched low. + +When no more than the length of a yardstick separated them there came a +pause. For perhaps thirty seconds they were like two angry men, each trying +to strike terror to the other's heart by the steadiness of his look. + +Muskwa shook as if with the ague, and whined--softly and steadily he +whined, and the whine reached Thor's ears. What happened after that began +so quickly that Muskwa was struck dumb with terror, and he lay flattened +out on the earth as motionless as a stone. + +With that grinding, snarling grizzly roar, which is unlike any other animal +cry in the world, Thor flung himself at the black. The black reared a +little--just enough to fling himself backward easily as they came together +breast to breast. He rolled upon his back, but Thor was too old a fighter +to be caught by that first vicious ripping stroke of the black's hind foot, +and he buried his four long flesh-rending teeth to the bone of his enemy's +shoulder. At the same time he struck a terrific cutting stroke with his +left paw. + +Thor was a digger, and his claws were dulled; the black was not a digger, +but a tree-climber, and his claws were like knives. And like knives they +buried themselves in Thor's wounded shoulder, and the blood spurted forth +afresh. + +With a roar that seemed to set the earth trembling, the huge grizzly lunged +backward and reared himself to his full nine feet. He had given the black +warning. Even after their first tussle his enemy might have retreated and +he would not have pursued. Now it was a fight to the death! The black had +done more than ravage his cache. He had opened the man-wound! + +A minute before Thor had been fighting for law and right--without great +animosity or serious desire to kill. Now, however, he was terrible. His +mouth was open, and it was eight inches from jaw to jaw; his lips were +drawn up until his white teeth and his red gums were bared; muscles stood +out like cords on his nostrils, and between his eyes was a furrow like the +cleft made by an axe in the trunk of a pine. His eyes shone with the glare +of red garnets, their greenish-black pupils almost obliterated by the +ferocious fire that was in them. Man, facing Thor in this moment, would +have known that only one would come out alive. + +Thor was not a "stand-up" fighter. For perhaps six or seven seconds he +remained erect, but as the black advanced a step he dropped quickly to all +fours. + +The black met him halfway, and after this--for many minutes--Muskwa hugged +closer and closer to the earth while with gleaming eyes he watched the +battle. It was such a fight as only the jungles and the mountains see, and +the roar of it drifted up and down the valley. + +Like human creatures the two giant beasts used their powerful forearms +while with fangs and hind feet they ripped and tore. For two minutes they +were in a close and deadly embrace, both rolling on the ground, now one +under and then the other. The black clawed ferociously; Thor used chiefly +his teeth and his terrible right hind foot. With his forearms he made no +effort to rend the black, but used them to hold and throw his enemy. He was +fighting to get _under_, as he had flung himself under the caribou he had +disembowelled. + +Again and again Thor buried his long fangs in the other's flesh; but in +fang-fighting the black was even quicker than he, and his right shoulder +was being literally torn to pieces when their jaws met in midair. Muskwa +heard the clash of them; he heard the grind of teeth on teeth, the +sickening crunch of bone. + +Then suddenly the black was flung upon his side as though his neck had been +broken, and Thor was at his throat. Still the black fought, his gaping and +bleeding jaws powerless now as the grizzly closed his own huge jaws on the +jugular. + +Muskwa stood up. He was shivering still, but with a new and strange +emotion. This was not play, as he and his mother had played. For the first +time he was looking upon _battle_, and the thrill of it sent the blood hot +and fast through his little body. With a faint, puppyish snarl he darted +in. His teeth sank futilely into the thick hair and tough hide of the +black's rump. He pulled and he snarled; he braced himself with his forefeet +and tugged at his mouthful of hair, filled with a blind and unaccountable +rage. + +The black twisted himself upon his back, and one of his hind feet raked +Thor from chest to vent. That stroke would have disembowelled a caribou or +a deer; it left a red, open, bleeding wound three feet long on Thor. + +Before it could be repeated, the grizzly swung himself sidewise, and the +second blow caught Muskwa. The flat of the black's foot struck him, and for +twenty feet he was sent like a stone out of a sling-shot. He was not cut, +but he was stunned. + +In that same moment Thor released his hold on his enemy's throat, and +swung two or three feet to one side. He was dripping blood. The black's +shoulders, chest, and neck were saturated with it; huge chunks had been +torn from his body. He made an effort to rise, and Thor was on him again. + +This time Thor got his deadliest of all holds. His great jaws clamped in a +death-grip over the upper part of the black's nose. One terrific grinding +crunch, and the fight was over. The black could not have lived after that. +But this fact Thor did not know. It was now easy for him to rip with those +knifelike claws on his hind feet. He continued to maul and tear for ten +minutes after the black was dead. + +When Thor finally quit the scene of battle was terrible to look upon. The +ground was torn up and red; it was covered with great strips of black hide +and pieces of flesh; and the black, on the under side, was torn open from +end to end. + +Two miles away, tense and white and scarcely breathing as they looked +through their glasses, Langdon and Bruce crouched beside a rock on the +mountainside. At that distance they had witnessed the terrific spectacle, +but they could not see the cub. As Thor stood panting and bleeding over +his lifeless enemy, Langdon lowered his glass. + +"My God!" he breathed. + +Bruce sprang to his feet. + +"Come on!" he cried. "The black's dead! If we hustle we can get our +grizzly!" + +And down in the meadow Muskwa ran to Thor with a bit of warm black hide in +his mouth, and Thor lowered his great bleeding head, and just once his red +tongue shot out and caressed Muskwa's face. For the little tan-faced cub +had proved himself; and it may be that Thor had seen and understood. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + + +Neither Thor nor Muskwa went near the caribou meat after the big fight. +Thor was in no condition to eat, and Muskwa was so filled with excitement +and trembling that he could not swallow a mouthful. He continued to worry a +strip of black hide, snarling and growling in his puny way, as though +finishing what the other had begun. + +For many minutes the grizzly stood with his big head drooping, and the +blood gathered in splashes under him. He was facing down the valley. There +was almost no wind--so little that it was scarcely possible to tell from +which direction it came. Eddies of it were caught in the coulees, and +higher up about the shoulders and peaks it blew stronger. Now and then one +of these higher movements of air would sweep gently downward and flow +through the valley for a few moments in a great noiseless breath that +barely stirred the tops of the balsams and spruce. + +One of these mountain-breaths came as Thor faced the east. And with it, +faint and terrible, came the _man-smell_! + +Thor roused himself with a sudden growl from the lethargy into which he had +momentarily allowed himself to sink. His relaxed muscles hardened. He +raised his head and sniffed the wind. + +Muskwa ceased his futile fight with the bit of hide and also sniffed the +air. It was warm with the man-scent, for Langdon and Bruce were running and +sweating, and the odour of man-sweat drifts heavy and far. It filled Thor +with a fresh rage. For a second time it came when he was hurt and bleeding. +He had already associated the man-smell with hurt, and now it was doubly +impressed upon him. He turned his head and snarled at the mutilated body of +the big black. Then he snarled menacingly in the face of the wind. He was +in no humour to run away. In these moments, if Bruce and Langdon had +appeared over the rise, Thor would have charged with that deadly ferocity +which lead can scarcely stop, and which has given to his kind their +terrible name. + +But the breath of air passed, and there followed a peaceful calm. The +valley was filled with the purr of running water; from their rocks the +whistlers called forth their soft notes; up on the green plain the +ptarmigan were fluting, and rising in white-winged flocks. These things +soothed Thor, as a woman's gentle hand quiets an angry man. For five +minutes he continued to rumble and growl as he tried vainly to catch the +scent again; but the rumbling and growling grew steadily less, and finally +he turned and walked slowly toward the coulee down which he and Muskwa had +come a little while before. Muskwa followed. + +[Illustration: "'Come on!' he cried. 'The black's dead! If we hustle we can +get our grizzly!'"] + +The coulee, or ravine, hid them from the valley as they ascended. Its +bottom was covered with rock and shale. The wounds Thor had received in the +fight, unlike bullet wounds, had stopped bleeding after the first few +minutes, and he left no telltale red spots behind. The ravine took them to +the first chaotic upheaval of rock halfway up the mountain, and here they +were still more lost to view from below. + +They stopped and drank at a pool formed by the melting snow on the peaks, +and then went on. Thor did not stop when they reached the ledge on which +they had slept the previous night. And this time Muskwa was not tired when +they reached the ledge. Two days had made a big change in the little +tan-faced cub. He was not so round and puffy. And he was stronger--a great +deal stronger; he was becoming hardened, and under Thor's strenuous +tutelage he was swiftly graduating from cubhood to young bearhood. + +It was evident that Thor had followed this ledge at some previous time. He +knew where he was going. It continued up and up, and finally seemed to end +in the face of a precipitous wall of rock. Thor's trail led him directly to +a great crevice, hardly wider than his body, and through this he went, +emerging at the edge of the wildest and roughest slide of rock that Muskwa +had ever seen. It looked like a huge quarry, and it broke through the +timber far below them, and reached almost to the top of the mountain above. + +For Muskwa to make his way over the thousand pitfalls of that chaotic +upheaval was an impossibility, and as Thor began to climb over the first +rocks the cub stopped and whined. It was the first time he had given up, +and when he saw that Thor gave no attention to his whine, terror seized +upon him and he cried for help as loudly as he could while he hunted +frantically for a path up through the rocks. + +Utterly oblivious of Muskwa's predicament, Thor continued until he was +fully thirty yards away. Then he stopped, faced about deliberately, and +waited. + +This gave Muskwa courage, and he scratched and clawed and even used his +chin and teeth in his efforts to follow. It took him ten minutes to reach +Thor, and he was completely winded. Then, all at once, his terror vanished. +For Thor stood on a white, narrow path that was as solid as a floor. + +The path was perhaps eighteen inches wide. It was unusual--and +mysterious-looking, and strangely out of place where it was. It looked as +though an army of workmen had come along with hammers and had broken up +tons of sandstone and slate, and then filled in between the boulders with +rubble, making a smooth and narrow road that in places was ground to the +fineness of powder and the hardness of cement. But instead of hammers, the +hoofs of a hundred or perhaps a thousand generations of mountain sheep had +made the trail. It was the sheep-path over the range. The first band of +bighorn may have blazed the way before Columbus discovered America; surely +it had taken a great many years for hoofs to make that smooth road among +the rocks. + +Thor used the path as one of his highways from valley to valley, and there +were other creatures of the mountains who used it as well as he, and more +frequently. As he stood waiting for Muskwa to get his wind they both heard +an odd chuckling sound approaching them from above. Forty or fifty feet up +the slide the path twisted and descended a little depression behind a huge +boulder, and out from behind this boulder came a big porcupine. + +There is a law throughout the North that a man shall not kill a porcupine. +He is the "lost man's friend," for the wandering and starving prospector or +hunter can nearly always find a porcupine, if nothing else; and a child can +kill him. He is the humourist of the wilderness--the happiest, the +best-natured, and altogether the mildest-mannered beast that ever drew +breath. He talks and chatters and chuckles incessantly, and when he travels +he walks like a huge animated pincushion; he is oblivious of everything +about him as though asleep. + +As this particular "porky" advanced upon Muskwa and Thor, he was communing +happily with himself, the chuckling notes he made sounding very much like a +baby's cooing. He was enormously fat, and as he waddled slowly along his +side and tail quills clicked on the stones. His eyes were on the path at +his feet. He was deeply absorbed in nothing at all, and he was within five +feet of Thor before he saw the grizzly. Then, in a wink, he humped himself +into a ball. For a few seconds he scolded vociferously. After that he was +as silent as a sphinx, his little red eyes watching the big bear. + +Thor did not want to kill him, but the path was narrow, and he was ready to +go on. He advanced a foot or two, and Porky turned his back toward Thor and +made ready to deliver a swipe with his powerful tail. In that tail were +several hundred quills. As Thor had more than once come into contact with +porcupine quills, he hesitated. + +Muskwa was looking on curiously. He still had his lesson to learn, for the +quill he had once picked up in his foot had been a loose quill. But since +the porcupine seemed to puzzle Thor, the cub turned and made ready to go +back along the slide if it became necessary. Thor advanced another foot, +and with a sudden _chuck, chuck, chuck_--the most vicious sound he was +capable of making--Porky advanced backward and his broad, thick tail +whipped through the air with a force that would have driven quills a +quarter of an inch into the butt of a tree. Having missed, he humped +himself again, and Thor stepped out on the boulder and circled around him. +There he waited for Muskwa. + +Porky was immensely satisfied with his triumph. He unlimbered himself; his +quills settled a bit; and he advanced toward Muskwa, at the same time +resuming his good-natured chuckling. Instinctively the cub hugged the edge +of the path, and in doing so slipped over the edge. By the time he had +scrambled up again Porky was four or five feet beyond him and totally +absorbed in his travel. + +The adventure of the sheep-trail was not yet quite over, for scarcely had +Porky maneuvered himself to safety when around the edge of the big boulder +above appeared a badger, hot on the fresh and luscious scent of his +favourite dinner, a porcupine. This worthless outlaw of the mountains was +three times as large as Muskwa, and every ounce of him was fighting muscle +and bone and claw and sharp teeth. He had a white mark on his nose and +forehead; his legs were short and thick; his tail was bushy, and the claws +on his front feet were almost as long as a bear's. Thor greeted him with an +immediate growl of warning, and the badger scooted back up the trail in +fear of his life. + +Meanwhile Porky lumbered slowly along in quest of new feeding-grounds, +talking and singing to himself, forgetting entirely what had happened a +minute or two before, and unconscious of the fact that Thor had saved him +from a death as certain as though he had fallen over a thousand-foot +precipice. + +For nearly a mile Thor and Muskwa followed the Bighorn Highway before its +winding course brought them at last to the very top of the range. They were +fully three-quarters of a mile above the creek-bottom, and so narrow in +places was the crest of the mountain along which the sheep-trail led that +they could look down into both valleys. + +To Muskwa it was all a greenish golden haze below him; the depths seemed +illimitable; the forest along the stream was only a black streak, and the +parklike clumps of balsams and cedars on the farther slopes looked like +very small bosks of thorn or buffalo willow. + +Up here the wind was blowing, too. It whipped him with a strange +fierceness, and half a dozen times he felt the mysterious and very +unpleasant chill of snow under his feet. Twice a great bird swooped near +him. It was the biggest bird he had ever seen--an eagle. The second time it +came so near that he heard the _beat_ of it, and saw its great, fierce head +and lowering talons. + +Thor whirled toward the eagle and growled. If Muskwa had been alone, the +cub would have gone sailing off in those murderous talons. As it was, the +third time the eagle circled it was down the slope from them. It was after +other game. The scent of the game came to Thor and Muskwa, and they +stopped. + +Perhaps a hundred yards below them was a shelving slide of soft shale, and +on this shale, basking in the warm sun after their morning's feed lower +down, was a band of sheep. There were twenty or thirty of them, mostly ewes +and their lambs. Three huge old rams were lying on a patch of snow farther +to the east. + +With his six-foot wings spread out like twin fans, the eagle continued to +circle. He was as silent as a feather floating with the wind. The ewes and +even the old bighorns were unconscious of his presence over them. Most of +the lambs were lying close to their mothers, but two or three of a livelier +turn of mind were wandering over the shale and occasionally hopping about +in playful frolic. + +The eagle's fierce eyes were upon these youngsters. Suddenly he drifted +farther away--a full rifle-shot distance straight in the face of the wind; +then he swung gracefully, and came back with the wind. And as he came, his +wings apparently motionless, he gathered greater and greater speed, and +shot like a rocket straight for the lambs. He seemed to have come and gone +like a great shadow, and just one plaintive, agonized bleat marked his +passing-and two little lambs were left where there had been three. + +There was instant commotion on the slide. The ewes began to run back and +forth and bleat excitedly. The three rams sprang up and stood like rocks, +their huge battlemented heads held high as they scanned the depths below +them and the peaks above for new danger. + +One of them saw Thor, and the deep, grating bleat of warning that rattled +out of his throat a hunter could have heard a mile away. As he gave his +danger signal he started down the slide, and in another moment an avalanche +of hoofs was clattering down the steep shale slope, loosening small stones +and boulders that went tumbling and crashing down the mountain with a din +that steadily increased as they set others in motion on the way. This was +all mighty interesting to Muskwa, and he would have stood for a long time +looking down for other things to happen if Thor had not led him on. + +After a time the Bighorn Highway began to descend into the valley from the +upper end of which Thor had been driven by Langdon's first shots. They were +now six or eight miles north of the timber in which the hunters had made +their permanent camp, and headed for the lower tributaries of the Skeena. + +Another hour of travel, and the bare shale and gray crags were above them +again, and they were on the green slopes. After the rocks, and the cold +winds, and the terrible glare he had seen in the eagle's eyes, the warm and +lovely valley into which they were descending lower and lower was a +paradise to Muskwa. + +It was evident that Thor had something in his mind. He was not rambling +now. He cut off the ends and the bulges of the slopes. With his head +hunched low he travelled steadily northward, and a compass could not have +marked out a straighter line for the lower waters of the Skeena. He was +tremendously businesslike, and Muskwa, tagging bravely along behind, +wondered if he were never going to stop; if there could be anything in the +whole wide world finer for a big grizzly and a little tan-faced cub than +these wonderful sunlit slopes which Thor seemed in such great haste to +leave. + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + + +If it had not been for Langdon, this day of the fight between the two bears +would have held still greater excitement and another and deadlier peril for +Thor and Muskwa. Three minutes after the hunters had arrived breathless and +sweating upon the scene of the sanguinary conflict Bruce was ready and +anxious to continue the pursuit of Thor. He knew the big grizzly could not +be far away; he was certain that Thor had gone up the mountain. He found +signs of the grizzly's feet in the gravel of the coulee at just about the +time Thor and the tan-faced cub struck the Bighorn Highway. + +His arguments failed to move Langdon. Stirred to the depth of his soul by +what he had seen, and what he saw about him now, the hunter-naturalist +refused to leave the blood-stained and torn-up arena in which the grizzly +and the black had fought their duel. + +"If I knew that I was not going to fire a single shot, I would travel five +thousand miles to see this," he said. "It's worth thinking about, and +looking over, Bruce. The grizzly won't spoil. This will--in a few hours. If +there's a story here we can dig out I want it." + +Again and again Langdon went over the battlefield, noting the ripped-up +ground, the big spots of dark-red stain, the strips of flayed skin, and the +terrible wounds on the body of the dead black. For half an hour Bruce paid +less attention to these things than he did to the carcass of the caribou. +At the end of that time he called Langdon to the edge of the clump of +balsams. + +"You wanted the story," he said, "an' I've got it for you, Jimmy." + +He entered the balsams and Langdon followed him. A few steps under the +cover Bruce halted and pointed to the hollow in which Thor had cached his +meat. The hollow was stained with blood. + +"You was right in your guess, Jimmy," he said. "Our grizzly is a +meat-eater. Last night he killed a caribou out there in the meadow. I know +it was the grizzly that killed 'im an' not the black, because the tracks +along the edge of the timber are grizzly tracks. Come on. I'll show you +where 'e jumped the caribou!" + +He led the way back into the meadow, and pointed out where Thor had dragged +down the young bull. There were bits of flesh and a great deal of stain +where he and Muskwa had feasted. + +"He hid the carcass in the balsams after he had filled himself," went on +Bruce. "This morning the black came along, smelled the meat, an' robbed the +cache. Then back come the grizzly after his morning feed, an' that's what +happened! There's yo'r story, Jimmy." + +"And--he may come back again?" asked Langdon. + +"Not on your life, he won't!" cried Bruce. "He wouldn't touch that carcass +ag'in if he was starving. Just now this place is like poison to him." + +After that Bruce left Langdon to meditate alone on the field of battle +while he began trailing Thor. In the shade of the balsams Langdon wrote for +a steady hour, frequently rising to establish new facts or verify others +already discovered. Meanwhile the mountaineer made his way foot by foot up +the coulee. Thor had left no blood, but where others would have seen +nothing Bruce detected the signs of his passing. When he returned to where +Langdon was completing his notes, his face wore a look of satisfaction. + +"He went over the mount'in," he said briefly. + +It was noon before they climbed over the volcanic quarry of rock and +followed the Bighorn Highway to the point where Thor and Muskwa had watched +the eagle and the sheep. They ate their lunch here, and scanned the valley +through their glasses. Bruce was silent for a long time. Then he lowered +his telescope, and turned to Langdon. + +"I guess I've got his range pretty well figgered out," he said. "He runs +these two valleys, an' we've got our camp too far south. See that timber +down there? That's where our camp should be. What do you say to goin' back +over the divide with our horses an' moving up here?" + +"And leave our grizzly until to-morrow?" + +Bruce nodded. + +"We can't go after 'im and leave our horses tied up in the creek-bottom +back there." + +Langdon boxed his glasses and rose to his feet. Suddenly he grew rigid. + +"What was that?" + +"I didn't hear anything," said Bruce. + +For a moment they stood side by side, listening. A gust of wind whistled +about their ears. It died away. + +"Hear it!" whispered Langdon, and his voice was filled with a sudden +excitement. + +"The dogs!" cried Bruce. + +"Yes, the dogs!" + +They leaned forward, their ears turned to the south, and faintly there came +to them the distant, thrilling tongue of the Airedales! + +Metoosin had come, and he was seeking them in the valley! + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + + +Thor was on what the Indians call a _pimootao_. His brute mind had all at +once added two and two together, and while perhaps he did not make four of +it, his mental arithmetic was accurate enough to convince him that straight +north was the road to travel. + +By the time Langdon and Bruce had reached the summit of the Bighorn +Highway, and were listening to the distant tongueing of the dogs, little +Muskwa was in abject despair. Following Thor had been like a game of tag +with never a moment's rest. + +An hour after they left the sheep trail they came to the rise in the valley +where the waters separated. From this point one creek flowed southward into +the Tacla Lake country and the other northward into the Babine, which was a +tributary of the Skeena. They descended very quickly into a much lower +country, and for the first time Muskwa encountered marshland, and travelled +at times through grass so rank and thick that he could not see but could +only hear Thor forging on ahead of him. + +The stream grew wider and deeper, and in places they skirted the edges of +dark, quiet pools that Muskwa thought must have been of immeasurable depth. +These pools gave Muskwa his first breathing-spells. Now and then Thor would +stop and sniff over the edge of them. He was hunting for something, and yet +he never seemed to find it; and each time that he started on afresh Muskwa +was so much nearer to the end of his endurance. + +They were fully seven miles north of the point from which Bruce and Langdon +were scanning the valley through their glasses when they came to a lake. It +was a dark and unfriendly looking lake to Muskwa, who had never seen +anything but sunlit pools in the dips. The forest grew close down to its +shore. In places it was almost black. Queer birds squawked in the thick +reeds. It was heavy with a strange odour--a fragrance of something that +made the cub lick his little chops, and filled him with hunger. + +For a minute or two Thor stood sniffing this scent that filled the air. It +was the smell of fish. + +Slowly the big grizzly began picking his way along the edge of the lake. +He soon came to the mouth of a small creek. It was not more than twenty +feet wide, but it was dark and quiet and deep, like the lake itself. For a +hundred yards Thor made his way up this creek, until he came to where a +number of trees had fallen across it, forming a jam. Close to this jam the +water was covered with a green scum. Thor knew what lay under that scum, +and very quietly he crept out on the logs. + +Midway in the stream he paused, and with his right paw gently brushed back +the scum so that an open pool of clear water lay directly under him. + +Muskwa's bright little eyes watched him from the shore. He knew that Thor +was after something to eat, but how he was going to get it out of that pool +of water puzzled and interested him in spite of his weariness. + +Thor stretched himself out on his belly, his head and right paw well over +the jam. He now put his paw a foot into the water and held it there very +quietly. He could see clearly to the bottom of the stream. For a few +moments he saw only this bottom, a few sticks, and the protruding end of a +limb. Then a long slim shadow moved slowly under him--a fifteen-inch +trout. It was too deep for him, and Thor did not make an excited plunge. + +Patiently he waited, and very soon this patience was rewarded. A beautiful +red-spotted trout floated out from under the scum, and so suddenly that +Muskwa gave a yelp of terror, Thor's huge paw sent a shower of water a +dozen feet into the air, and the fish landed with a thump within three feet +of the cub. Instantly Muskwa was upon it. His sharp teeth dug into it as it +flopped and struggled. + +Thor rose on the logs, but when he saw that Muskwa had taken possession of +the fish, he resumed his former position. Muskwa was just finishing his +first real kill when a second spout of water shot upward and another trout +pirouetted shoreward through the air. This time Thor followed quickly, for +he was hungry. + +It was a glorious feast they had that early afternoon beside the shaded +creek. Five times Thor knocked fish out from under the scum, but for the +life of him Muskwa could not eat more than his first trout. + +For several hours after their dinner they lay in a cool, hidden spot close +to the log-jam. Muskwa did not sleep soundly. He was beginning to +understand that life was now largely a matter of personal responsibility +with him, and his ears had begun to attune themselves to sound. Whenever +Thor moved or heaved a deep sigh, Muskwa knew it. After that day's Marathon +with the grizzly he was filled with uneasiness--a fear that he might lose +his big friend and food-killer, and he was determined that the parent he +had adopted should have no opportunity of slipping away from him unheard +and unseen. But Thor had no intention of deserting his little comrade. In +fact, he was becoming quite fond of Muskwa. + +It was not alone his hunger for fish or fear of his enemies that was +bringing Thor into the lower country of the Babine waterways. For a week +past there had been in him a steadily growing unrest, and it had reached +its climax in these last two or three days of battle and flight. He was +filled with a strange and unsatisfied yearning, and as Muskwa napped in his +little bed among the bushes Thor's ears were keenly alert for certain +sounds and his nose frequently sniffed the air. He wanted a mate. It was +_puskoowepesim_--the "moulting moon"--and always in this moon, or the end +of the "egg-laying moon," which was June, he hunted for the female that +came to him from the western ranges. He was almost entirely a creature of +habit, and always he made this particular detour, entering the other valley +again far down toward the Babine. He never failed to feed on fish along the +way, and the more fish he ate the stronger was the odour of him. It is +barely possible Thor had discovered that this perfume of golden-spotted +trout made him more attractive to his lady-love. Anyway, he ate fish, and +he smelled abundantly. + +Thor rose and stretched himself two hours before sunset, and he knocked +three more fish out of the water. Muskwa ate the head of one and Thor +finished the rest. Then they continued their pilgrimage. + +It was a new world that Muskwa entered now. In it there were none of the +old familiar sounds. The purring drone of the upper valley was gone. There +were no whistlers, and no ptarmigan, and no fat little gophers running +about. The water of the lake lay still, and dark, and deep, with black and +sunless pools hiding themselves under the roots of trees, so close did the +forest cling to it. There were no rocks to climb over, but dank, soft logs, +thick windfalls, and litters of brush. The air was different, too. It was +very still. Under their feet at times was a wonderful carpet of soft moss +in which Thor sank nearly to his armpits. And the forest was filled with a +strange gloom and many mysterious shadows, and there hung heavily in it the +pungent smells of decaying vegetation. + +Thor did not travel so swiftly here. The silence and the gloom and the +oppressively scented air seemed to rouse his caution. He stepped quietly; +frequently he stopped and looked about him, and listened; he smelled at the +edges of pools hidden under the roots; every new sound brought him to a +stop, his head hung low and his ears alert. + +Several times Muskwa saw shadowy things floating through the gloom. They +were the big gray owls that turned snow white in winter. And once, when it +was almost dark, they came upon a pop-eyed, loose-jointed, fierce-looking +creature in the trail who scurried away like a ball at sight of Thor. It +was a lynx. + +It was not yet quite dark when Thor came out very quietly into a clearing, +and Muskwa found himself first on the shore of a creek, and then close to a +big pond. The air was full of the breath and warmth of a new kind of life. +It was not fish, and yet it seemed to come from the pond, in the centre of +which were three or four circular masses that looked like great brush-heaps +plastered with a coating of mud. + +Whenever he came into this end of the valley Thor always paid a visit to +the beaver colony, and occasionally he helped himself to a fat young beaver +for supper or breakfast. This evening he was not hungry, and he was in a +hurry. In spite of these two facts he stood for some minutes in the shadows +near the pond. + +The beavers had already begun their night's work. Muskwa soon understood +the significance of the shimmering streaks that ran swiftly over the +surface of the water. At the end of each streak was always a dark, flat +head, and now he saw that most of these streaks began at the farther edge +of the pond and made directly for a long, low barrier that shut in the +water a hundred yards to the east. + +This particular barrier was strange to Thor, and with his maturer +knowledge of beaver ways he knew that his engineering friends--whom he ate +only occasionally--were broadening their domain by building a new dam. As +they watched, two fat workmen shoved a four-foot length of log into the +pond with a big splash, and one of them began piloting it toward the scene +of building operations, while his companion returned to other work. A +little later there was a crash in the timber on the opposite side of the +pond, where another workman had succeeded in felling a tree. Then Thor made +his way toward the dam. + +Almost instantly there was a terrific crack out in the middle of the pond, +followed by a tremendous splash. An old beaver had seen Thor and with the +flat side of his broad tail had given the surface of the water a warning +slap that cut the still air like a rifle-shot. All at once there were +splashings and divings in every direction, and a moment later the pond was +ruffled and heaving as a score of interrupted workers dove excitedly under +the surface to the safety of their brush-ribbed and mud-plastered +strongholds, and Muskwa was so absorbed in the general excitement that he +almost forgot to follow Thor. + +He overtook the grizzly at the dam. For a few moments Thor inspected the +new work, and then tested it with his weight. It was solid, and over this +bridge ready built for them they crossed to the higher ground on the +opposite side. A few hundred yards farther on Thor struck a fairly +well-beaten caribou trail which in the course of half an hour led them +around the end of the lake to the outlet stream flowing north. + +Every minute Muskwa was hoping that Thor would stop. His afternoon's nap +had not taken the lameness out of his legs nor the soreness from the tender +pads of his feet. He had had enough, and more than enough, of travel, and +could he have regulated the world according to his own wishes he would not +have walked another mile for a whole month. Mere walking would not have +been so bad, but to keep up with Thor's ambling gait he was compelled to +trot, like a stubby four-year-old child hanging desperately to the thumb of +a big and fast-walking man. Muskwa had not even a thumb to hang to. The +bottoms of his feet were like boils; his tender nose was raw from contact +with brush and the knife-edged marsh grass, and his little back felt all +caved in. Still he hung on desperately, until the creek-bottom was again +sand and gravel, and travelling was easier. + +The stars were up now, millions of them, clear and brilliant; and it was +quite evident that Thor had set his mind on an "all-night hike," a +_kuppatipsk pimootao_ as a Cree tracker would have called it. Just how it +would have ended for Muskwa is a matter of conjecture had not the spirits +of thunder and rain and lightning put their heads together to give him a +rest. + +For perhaps an hour the stars were undimmed, and Thor kept on like a +heathen without a soul, while Muskwa limped on all four feet. Then a low +rumbling gathered in the west. It grew louder and louder, and approached +swiftly--straight from the warm Pacific. Thor grew uneasy, and sniffed in +the face of it. Livid streaks began to criss-cross a huge pall of black +that was closing in on them like a vast curtain. The stars began to go out. +A moaning wind came. And then the rain. + +Thor had found a huge rock that shelved inward, like a lean-to, and he +crept back under this with Muskwa before the deluge descended. For many +minutes it was more like a flood than a rain. It seemed as though a part of +the Pacific Ocean had been scooped up and dropped on them, and in half an +hour the creek was a swollen torrent. + +The lightning and the crash of thunder terrified Muskwa. Now he could see +Thor in great blinding flashes of fire, and the next instant it was as +black as pitch; the tops of the mountains seemed falling down into the +valley; the earth trembled and shook--and he snuggled closer and closer to +Thor until at last he lay between his two forearms, half buried in the long +hair of the big grizzly's shaggy chest. Thor himself was not much concerned +in these noisy convulsions of nature, except to keep himself dry. When he +took a bath he wanted the sun to be shining and a nice warm rock close at +hand on which to stretch himself. + +For a long time after its first fierce outbreak the rain continued to fall +in a gentle shower. Muskwa liked this, and under the sheltering rock, +snuggled against Thor, he felt very comfortable and easily fell asleep. +Through long hours Thor kept his vigil alone, drowsing now and then, but +kept from sound slumber by the restlessness that was in him. + +It stopped raining soon after midnight, but it was very dark, the stream +was flooding over its bars, and Thor remained under the rock. Muskwa had a +splendid sleep. + +Day had come when Thor's stirring roused Muskwa. He followed the grizzly +out into the open, feeling tremendously better than last night, though his +feet were still sore and his body was stiff. + +Thor began to follow the creek again. Along this stream there were low +flats and many small bayous where grew luxuriantly the tender grass and +roots, and especially the slim long-stemmed lilies on which Thor was fond +of feeding. But for a thousand-pound grizzly to fill up on such vegetarian +dainties as these consumed many hours, if not one's whole time, and Thor +considered that he had no time to lose. Thor was a most ardent lover when +he loved at all, which was only a few days out of the year; and during +these days he twisted his mode of living around so that while the spirit +possessed him he no longer existed for the sole purpose of eating and +growing fat. For a short time he put aside his habit of living to eat, and +ate to live; and poor Muskwa was almost famished before another dinner was +forthcoming. + +But at last, early in the afternoon, Thor came to a pool which he could not +pass. It was not a dozen feet in width, and it was alive with trout. The +fish had not been able to reach the lake above, and they had waited too +long after the flood-season to descend into the deeper waters of the Babine +and the Skeena. They had taken refuge in this pool, which was now about to +become a death-trap. + +At one end the water was two feet deep; at the other end only a few inches. +After pondering over this fact for a few moments, the grizzly waded openly +into the deepest part, and from the bank above Muskwa saw the shimmering +trout darting into the shallower water. Thor advanced slowly, and now, when +he stood in less than eight inches of water, the panic-stricken fish one +after another tried to escape back into the deeper part of the pool. + +Again and again Thor's big right paw swept up great showers of water. The +first inundation knocked Muskwa off his feet. But with it came a two-pound +trout which the cub quickly dragged out of range and began eating. So +agitated became the pool because of the mighty strokes of Thor's paw that +the trout completely lost their heads, and no sooner did they reach one end +than they turned about and darted for the other. They kept this up until +the grizzly had thrown fully a dozen of their number ashore. + +So absorbed was Muskwa in his fish, and Thor in his fishing, that neither +had noticed a visitor. Both saw him at about the same time, and for fully +thirty seconds they stood and stared, Thor in his pool and the cub over his +fish, utter amazement robbing them of the power of movement. The visitor +was another grizzly, and as coolly as though he had done the fishing +himself he began eating the fish which Thor had thrown out! A worse insult +or a deadlier challenge could not have been known in the land of Beardom. +Even Muskwa sensed that fact. He looked expectantly at Thor. There was +going to be another fight, and he licked his little chops in anticipation. + +Thor came up out of the pool slowly. On the bank he paused. The grizzlies +gazed at each other, the newcomer crunching a fish as he looked. Neither +growled. Muskwa perceived no signs of enmity, and then to his increased +astonishment Thor began eating a fish within three feet of the interloper! + +Perhaps man is the finest of all God's creations, but when it comes to his +respect for old age he is no better, and sometimes not as good, as a +grizzly bear; for Thor would not rob an old bear, he would not fight an old +bear, and he would not drive an old bear from his own meat--which is more +than can be said of some humans. And the visitor was an old bear, and a +sick bear as well. He stood almost as high as Thor, but he was so old that +he was only half as broad across the chest, and his neck and head were +grotesquely thin. The Indians have a name for him. _Kuyas Wapusk_ they call +him--the bear so old he is about to die. They let him go unharmed; other +bears tolerate him and let him eat their meat if he chances along; the +white man kills him. + +This old bear was famished. His claws were gone; his hair was thin, and in +some places his skin was naked, and he had barely more than red, hard gums +to chew with. If he lived until autumn he would den up--for the last time. +Perhaps death would come even sooner than that. If so, _Kuyas Wapusk_ +would know in time, and he would crawl off into some hidden cave or deep +crevice in the rocks to breathe his last. For in all the Rocky Mountains, +so far as Bruce or Langdon knew, there was not a man who had found the +bones or body of a grizzly that had died a natural death! + +And big, hunted Thor, torn by wound and pursued by man, seemed to +understand that this would be the last real feast on earth for _Kuyas +Wapusk_--too old to fish for himself, too old to hunt, too old even to dig +out the tender lily roots; and so he let him eat until the last fish was +gone, and then went on, with Muskwa tagging at his heels. + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + + +For still another two hours Thor led Muskwa on that tiresome jaunt into the +north. They had travelled a good twenty miles since leaving the Bighorn +Highway, and to the little tan-faced cub those twenty miles were like a +journey around the world. Ordinarily he would not have gone that far away +from his birthplace until his second year, and very possibly his third. + +Not once in this hike down the valley had Thor wasted time on the mountain +slopes. He had picked out the easiest trails along the creek. Three or four +miles below the pool where they had left the old bear he suddenly changed +this procedure by swinging due westward, and a little later they were once +more climbing a mountain. They went up a long green slide for a quarter of +a mile, and luckily for Muskwa's legs this brought them to the smooth +plainlike floor of a break which took them without much more effort out on +the slopes of the other valley. This was the valley in which Thor had +killed the black bear twenty miles to the southward. + +From the moment Thor looked out over the northern limits of his range a +change took possession of him. All at once he lost his eagerness to hurry. +For fifteen minutes he stood looking down into the valley, sniffing the +air. He descended slowly, and when he reached the green meadows and the +creek-bottom he _mooshed_ along straight in the face of the wind, which was +coming from the south and west. It did not bring him the scent he +wanted--the smell of his mate. Yet an instinct that was more infallible +than reason told him that she was near, or should be near. He did not take +accident or sickness or the possibility of hunters having killed her into +consideration. This was where he had always started in to hunt for her, and +sooner or later he had found her. He knew her smell. And he crossed and +recrossed the bottoms so that it could not escape him. + +When Thor was love-sick he was more or less like a man: that is to say, he +was an idiot. The importance of all other things dwindled into nothingness. +His habits, which were as fixed as the stars at other times, took a +complete vacation. He even forgot hunger, and the whistlers and gophers +were quite safe. He was tireless. He rambled during the night as well as +the day in quest of his lady-love. + +It was quite natural that in these exciting hours he should forget Muskwa +almost entirely. At least ten times before sunset he crossed and recrossed +the creek, and the disgusted and almost ready-to-quit cub waded and swam +and floundered after him until he was nearly drowned. The tenth or dozenth +time Thor forded the stream Muskwa revolted and followed along on his own +side. It was not long before the grizzly returned. + +It was soon after this, just as the sun was setting, that the unexpected +happened. What little wind there was suddenly swung straight into the east, +and from the western slopes half a mile away it brought a scent that held +Thor motionless in his tracks for perhaps half a minute, and then set him +off on that ambling run which is the ungainliest gait of all four-footed +creatures. + +Muskwa rolled after him like a ball, pegging away for dear life, but losing +ground at every jump. In that half-mile stretch he would have lost Thor +altogether if the grizzly had not stopped near the bottom of the first +slope to take fresh reckonings. When he started up the slope Muskwa could +see him, and with a yelping cry for him to wait a minute set after him +again. + +Two or three hundred yards up the mountainside the slope shelved downward +into a hollow, or dip, and nosing about in this dip, questing the air as +Thor had quested it, was the beautiful she-grizzly from over the range. +With her was one of her last year's cubs. Thor was within fifty yards of +her when he came over the crest. He stopped. He looked at her. And Iskwao, +"the female," looked at him. + +Then followed true bear courtship. All haste, all eagerness, all desire for +his mate seemed to have left Thor; and if Iskwao had been eager and +yearning she was profoundly indifferent now. For two or three minutes Thor +stood looking casually about, and this gave Muskwa time to come up and +perch himself beside him, expecting another fight. + +As though Thor was a thousand miles or so from her thoughts, Iskwao turned +over a flat rock and began hunting for grubs and ants, and not to be +outdone in this stoic unconcern Thor pulled up a bunch of grass and +swallowed it. Iskwao moved a step or two, and Thor moved a step or two, and +as if purely by accident their steps were toward each other. + +Muskwa was puzzled. The older cub was puzzled. They sat on their haunches +like two dogs, one three times as big as the other, and wondered what was +going to happen. + +It took Thor and Iskwao five minutes to arrive within five feet of each +other, and then very decorously they smelled noses. + +The year-old cub joined the family circle. He was of just the right age to +have an exceedingly long name, for the Indians called him Pipoonaskoos-- +"the yearling." He came boldly up to Thor and his mother. For a moment +Thor did not seem to notice him. Then his long right arm shot out in a +sudden swinging upper-cut that lifted Pipoonaskoos clean off the ground +and sent him spinning two-thirds of the distance up to Muskwa. + +The mother paid no attention to this elimination of her offspring, and +still lovingly smelled noses with Thor. Muskwa, however, thought this was +the preliminary of another tremendous fight, and with a yelp of defiance +he darted down the slope and set upon Pipoonaskoos with all his might. + +Pipoonaskoos was "mother's boy." That is, he was one of those cubs who +persist in following their mothers through a second season, instead of +striking out for themselves. He had nursed until he was five months old; +his parent had continued to hunt tidbits for him; he was fat, and sleek, +and soft; he was, in fact, a "Willie" of the mountains. + +On the other hand, a few days had put a lot of real mettle into Muskwa, and +though he was only a third as large as Pipoonaskoos, and his feet were +sore, and his back ached, he landed on the other cub like a shot out of a +gun. + +Still dazed by the blow of Thor's paw, Pipoonaskoos gave a yelping call to +his mother for help at this sudden onslaught. He had never been in a fight, +and he rolled over on his back and side, kicking and scratching and yelping +as Muskwa's needle-like teeth sank again and again into his tender hide. + +Luckily Muskwa got him once by the nose, and bit deep, and if there was any +sand at all in Willie Pipoonaskoos this took it out of him, and while +Muskwa held on for dear life he let out a steady stream of yelps, +informing his mother that he was being murdered. To these cries Iskwao paid +no attention at all, but continued to smell noses with Thor. + +Finally freeing his bleeding nose, Pipoonaskoos shook Muskwa off by sheer +force of superior weight and took to flight on a dead run. Muskwa pegged +valiantly after him. Twice they made the circle of the basin, and in +spite of his shorter legs, Muskwa was a close second in the race when +Pipoonaskoos, turning an affrighted glance sidewise for an instant, hit +against a rock and went sprawling. In another moment Muskwa was at him +again, and he would have continued biting and snarling until there was no +more strength left in him had he not happened to see Thor and Iskwao +disappearing slowly over the edge of the slope toward the valley. + +Almost immediately Muskwa forgot fighting. He was amazed to find that +Thor, instead of tearing up the other bear, was walking off with her. +Pipoonaskoos also pulled himself together and looked. Then Muskwa looked at +Pipoonaskoos, and Pipoonaskoos looked at Muskwa. The tan-faced cub licked +his chops just once, as if torn between the prospective delight of mauling +Pipoonaskoos and the more imperative duty of following Thor. The other gave +him no choice. With a whimpering yelp he set off after his mother. + +Exciting times followed for the two cubs. All that night Thor and Iskwao +kept by themselves in the buffalo willow thickets and the balsams of the +creek-bottom. Early in the evening Pipoonaskoos sneaked up to his mother +again, and Thor lifted him into the middle of the creek. The second visual +proof of Thor's displeasure impinged upon Muskwa the fact that the older +bears were not in a mood to tolerate the companionship of cubs, and the +result was a wary and suspicious truce between him and Pipoonaskoos. + +All the next day Thor and Iskwao kept to themselves. Early in the morning +Muskwa began adventuring about a little in quest of food. He liked tender +grass, but it was not very filling. Several times he saw Pipoonaskoos +digging in the soft bottom close to the creek, and finally he drove the +other cub away from a partly digged hole and investigated for himself. +After a little more excavating he pulled out a white, bulbous, tender root +that he thought was the sweetest and nicest thing he had ever eaten, not +even excepting fish. It was the one _bonne bouche_ of all the good things +he would eventually learn to eat--the spring beauty. One other thing alone +was at all comparable with it, and that was the dog-tooth violet. Spring +beauties were growing about him abundantly, and he continued to dig until +his feet were grievously tender. But he had the satisfaction of being +comfortably fed. + +Thor was again responsible for a fight between Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos. +Late in the afternoon the older bears were lying down side by side in a +thicket when, without any apparent reason at all, Thor opened his huge jaws +and emitted a low, steady, growling roar that sounded very much like the +sound he had made when tearing the life out of the big black. Iskwao raised +her head and joined him in the tumult, both of them perfectly good-natured +and quite happy during the operation. Why mating bears indulge in this +blood-curdling duet is a mystery which only the bears themselves can +explain. It lasts for about a minute, and during this particular minute +Muskwa, who lay outside the thicket, thought that surely the glorious hour +had come when Thor was beating up the parent of Pipoonaskoos. And instantly +he looked for Pipoonaskoos. + +Unfortunately the Willie-bear came sneaking round the edge of the brush +just then, and Muskwa gave him no chance to ask questions. He shot at him +in a black streak and Pipoonaskoos bowled over like a fat baby. For several +minutes they bit and dug and clawed, most of the biting and digging and +clawing being done by Muskwa, while Pipoonaskoos devoted his time and +energy to yelping. + +Finally the larger cub got away and again took to flight. Muskwa pursued +him, into the brush and out, down to the creek and back, halfway up the +slope and down again, until he was so tired he had to drop on his belly for +a rest. + +At this juncture Thor emerged from the thicket. He was alone. For the first +time since last night he seemed to notice Muskwa. Then he sniffed the wind +up the valley and down the valley, and after that turned and walked +straight toward the distant slopes down which they had come the preceding +afternoon. Muskwa was both pleased and perplexed. He wanted to go into the +thicket and snarl and pull at the hide of the dead bear that must be in +there, and he also wanted to finish Pipoonaskoos. After a moment or two of +hesitation he ran after Thor and again followed close at his heels. + +After a little Iskwao came from the thicket and nosed the wind as Thor had +felt it. Then she turned in the opposite direction, and with Pipoonaskoos +close behind her, went up the slope and continued slowly and steadily in +the face of the setting sun. + +So ended Thor's love-making and Muskwa's first fighting; and together they +trailed eastward again, to face the most terrible peril that had ever come +into the mountains for four-footed beast-a peril that was merciless, a +peril from which there was no escape, a peril that was fraught with death. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + + +The first night after leaving Iskwao and Pipoonaskoos the big grizzly and +the tan-faced cub wandered without sleep under the brilliant stars. Thor +did not hunt for meat. He climbed a steep slope, then went down the shale +side of a dip, and in a small basin hidden at the foot of a mountain came +to a soft green meadow where the dog-tooth violet, with its slender stem, +its two lily-like leaves, its single cluster of five-petalled flowers, and +its luscious, bulbous root grew in great profusion. And here all through +the night he dug and ate. + +Muskwa, who had filled himself on spring beauty roots, was not hungry, and +as the day had been a restful one for him, outside of his fighting, he +found this night filled with its brilliant stars quite enjoyable. The moon +came up about ten o'clock, and it was the biggest, and the reddest, and the +most beautiful moon Muskwa had seen in his short life. It rolled up over +the peaks like a forest fire, and filled all the Rocky Mountains with a +wonderful glow. The basin, in which there were perhaps ten acres of meadow, +was lighted up almost like day. The little lake at the foot of the mountain +glimmered softly, and the tiny stream that fed it from the melting snows a +thousand feet above shot down in glistening cascades that caught the +moonlight like rivulets of dull polished diamonds. + +About the meadow were scattered little clumps of bushes and a few balsams +and spruce, as if set there for ornamental purposes; and on one side there +was a narrow, verdure-covered slide that sloped upward for a third of a +mile, and at the top of which, unseen by Muskwa and Thor, a band of sheep +were sleeping. + +Muskwa wandered about, always near Thor, investigating the clumps of +bushes, the dark shadows of the balsams and spruce, and the edge of the +lake. Here he found a plashet of soft mud which was a great solace to his +sore feet. Twenty times during the night he waded in the mud. + +Even when the dawn came Thor seemed to be in no great haste to leave the +basin. Until the sun was well up he continued to wander about the meadow +and the edge of the lake, digging up occasional roots, and eating tender +grass. This did not displease Muskwa, who made his breakfast of the +dog-tooth violet bulbs. The one matter that puzzled him was why Thor did +not go into the lake and throw out trout, for he yet had to learn that all +water did not contain fish. At last he went fishing for himself, and +succeeded in getting a black hard-shelled water beetle that nipped his nose +with a pair of needle-like pincers and brought a yelp from him. + +It was perhaps ten o'clock, and the sun-filled basin was like a warm oven +to a thick-coated bear, when Thor searched up among the rocks near the +waterfall until he found a place that was as cool as an old-fashioned +cellar. It was a miniature cavern. All about it the slate and sandstone was +of a dark and clammy wet from a hundred little trickles of snow water that +ran down from the peaks. + +It was just the sort of a place Thor loved on a July day, but to Muskwa it +was dark and gloomy and not a thousandth part as pleasant as the sun. So +after an hour or two he left Thor in his frigidarium and began to +investigate the treacherous ledges. + +For a few minutes all went well--then he stepped on a green-tinted slope of +slate over which a very shallow dribble of water was running. The water had +been running over it in just that way for some centuries, and the shelving +slate was worn as smooth as the surface of a polished pearl, and it was as +slippery as a greased pole. Muskwa's feet went out from under him so +quickly that he hardly knew what had happened. The next moment he was on +his way to the lake a hundred feet below. He rolled over and over. He +plashed into shallow pools. He bounced over miniature waterfalls like a +rubber ball. The wind was knocked out of him. He was blinded and dazed by +water and shock, and he gathered fresh speed with every yard he made. He +had succeeded in letting out half a dozen terrified yelps at the start, and +these roused Thor. + +Where the water from the peaks fell into the lake there was a precipitous +drop of ten feet, and over this Muskwa shot with a momentum that carried +him twice as far out into the pond. He hit with a big splash, and +disappeared. Down and down he went, where everything was black and cold and +suffocating; then the life-preserver with which nature had endowed him in +the form of his fat brought him to the surface. He began to paddle with all +four feet. It was his first swim, and when he finally dragged himself +ashore he was limp and exhausted. + +While he still lay panting and very much frightened, Thor came down from +the rocks. Muskwa's mother had given him a sound cuffing when he got the +porcupine quill in his foot. She had cuffed him for every accident he had +had, because she believed that cuffing was good medicine. Education is +largely cuffed into a bear cub, and she would have given him a fine cuffing +now. But Thor only smelled of him, saw that he was all right, and began to +dig up a dog-tooth violet. + +He had not finished the violet when suddenly he stopped. For a half-minute +he stood like a statue. Muskwa jumped and shook himself. Then he listened. +A sound came to both of them. In one slow, graceful movement the grizzly +reared himself to his full height. He faced the north, his ears thrust +forward, the sensitive muscles of his nostrils twitching. He could smell +nothing, but he _heard_! + +Over the slopes which they had climbed there had come to him faintly a +sound that was new to him, a sound that had never before been a part of his +life. It was the barking of dogs. + +For two minutes Thor sat on his haunches without moving a muscle of his +great body except those twitching thews in his nose. + +Deep down in this cup under the mountain it was difficult even for sound to +reach him. Quickly he swung down on all fours and made for the green slope +to the southward, at the top of which the band of sheep had slept during +the preceding night. Muskwa hurried after. + +A hundred yards up the slope Thor stopped and turned. Again he reared +himself. Now Muskwa also faced to the north. A sudden downward drift of the +wind brought the barking of the dogs to them clearly. + +Less than half a mile away Langdon's pack of trained Airedales were hot on +the scent. Their baying was filled with the fierce excitement which told +Bruce and Langdon, a quarter of a mile behind them, that they were close +upon their prey. + +And even more than it thrilled them did the tongueing of the dogs thrill +Thor. Again it was instinct that told him a new enemy had come into his +world. He was not afraid. But that instinct urged him to retreat, and he +went higher until he came to a part of the mountain that was rough and +broken, where once more he halted. + +This time he waited. Whatever the menace was it was drawing nearer with the +swiftness of the wind. He could hear it coming up the slope that sheltered +the basin from the valley. + +The crest of that slope was just about on a level with Thor's eyes, and as +he looked the leader of the pack came up over the edge of it and stood for +a moment outlined against the sky. The others followed quickly, and for +perhaps thirty seconds they stood rigid on the cap of the hill, looking +down into the basin at their feet and sniffing the heavy scent with which +it was filled. + +During those thirty seconds Thor watched his enemies without moving, while +in his deep chest there gathered slowly a low and terrible growl. Not until +the pack swept down into the cup of the mountain, giving full tongue again, +did he continue his retreat. But it was not flight. He was not afraid. He +was going on--because to go on was his business. He was not seeking +trouble; he had no desire even to defend his possession of the meadow and +the little lake under the mountain. There were other meadows and other +lakes, and he was not naturally a lover of fighting. But he was ready to +fight. + +He continued to rumble ominously, and in him there was burning a slow and +sullen anger. He buried himself among the rocks; he followed a ledge with +Muskwa slinking close at his heels; he climbed over a huge scarp of rock, +and twisted among boulders half as big as houses. But not once did he go +where Muskwa could not easily follow. Once, when he drew himself from a +ledge to a projecting seam of sandstone higher up, and found that Muskwa +could not climb it, he came down and went another way. + +The baying of the dogs was now deep down in the basin. Then it began to +rise swiftly, as if on wings, and Thor knew that the pack was coming up the +green slide. He stopped again, and this time the wind brought their scent +to him full and strong. + +It was a scent that tightened every muscle in his great body and set +strange fires burning in him like raging furnaces. With the dogs came also +the _man-smell_! + +He travelled upward a little faster now, and the fierce and joyous yelping +of the dogs seemed scarcely a hundred yards away when he entered a small +open space in the wild upheaval of rock. On the mountainside was a wall +that rose perpendicularly. Twenty feet on the other side was a sheer fall +of a hundred feet, and the way ahead was closed with the exception of a +trail scarcely wider than Thor's body by a huge crag of rock that had +fallen from the shoulder of the mountain. The big grizzly led Muskwa close +up to this crag and the break that opened through it, and then turned +suddenly back, so that Muskwa was behind him. In the face of the peril that +was almost upon them a mother-bear would have driven Muskwa into the safety +of a crevice in the rock wall. Thor did not do this. He fronted the danger +that was coming, and reared himself up on his hind quarters. + +Twenty feet away the trail he had followed swung sharply around a +projecting bulge in the perpendicular wall, and with eyes that were now +red and terrible Thor watched the trap he had set. + +The pack was coming full tongue. Fifty yards beyond the bulge the dogs were +running shoulder to shoulder, and a moment later the first of them rushed +into the arena which Thor had chosen for himself. The bulk of the horde +followed so closely that the first dogs were flung under him as they strove +frantically to stop themselves in time. + +With a roar Thor launched himself among them. His great right arm swept out +and inward, and it seemed to Muskwa that he had gathered a half of the pack +under his huge body. With a single crunch of his jaws he broke the back of +the foremost hunter. From a second he tore the head so that the windpipe +trailed out like a red rope. + +He rolled himself forward, and before the remaining dogs could recover from +their panic he had caught one a blow that sent him flying over the edge of +the precipice to the rocks a hundred feet below. It had all happened in +half a minute, and in that half-minute the remaining nine dogs had +scattered. + +But Langdon's Airedales were fighters. To the last dog they had come of +fighting stock, and Bruce and Metoosin had trained them until they could be +hung up by their ears without whimpering. The tragic fate of three of their +number frightened them no more than their own pursuit had frightened Thor. + +Swift as lightning they circled about the grizzly, spreading themselves on +their forefeet, ready to spring aside or backward to avoid sudden rushes, +and giving voice now to that quick, fierce yapping which tells hunters +their quarry is at bay. This was their business--to harass and torment, to +retard flight, to stop their prey again and again until their masters came +to finish the kill. It was a quite fair and thrilling sport for the bear +and the dogs. The man who comes up with the rifle ends it in murder. + +But if the dogs had their tricks, Thor also had his. After three or four +vain rushes, in which the Airedales eluded him by their superior quickness, +he backed slowly toward the huge rock beside which Muskwa was crouching, +and as he retreated the dogs advanced. + +Their increased barking and Thor's evident inability to drive them away or +tear them to pieces terrified Muskwa more than ever. Suddenly he turned +tail and darted into a crevice in the rock behind him. + +Thor continued to back until his great hips touched the stone. Then he +swung his head side wise and looked for the cub. Not a hair of Muskwa was +to be seen. Twice Thor turned his head. After that, seeing that Muskwa was +gone, he continued to retreat until he blocked the narrow passage that was +his back door to safety. + +The dogs were now barking like mad. They were drooling at their mouths, +their wiry crests stood up like brushes, and their snarling fangs were +bared to their red gums. + +Nearer and nearer they came to him, challenging him to stay, to rush them, +to catch them if he could--and in their excitement they put ten yards of +open space behind them. Thor measured this space, as he had measured the +distance between him and the young bull caribou a few days before. And +then, without so much as a snarl of warning, he darted out upon his enemies +with a suddenness that sent them flying wildly for their lives. + +Thor did not stop. He kept on. Where the rock wall bulged out the trail +narrowed to five feet, and he had measured this fact as well as the +distance. He caught the last dog, and drove it down under his paw. As it +was torn to pieces the Airedale emitted piercing cries of agony that +reached Bruce and Langdon as they hurried panting and wind-broken up the +slide that led from the basin. + +Thor dropped on his belly in the narrowed trail, and as the pack broke +loose with fresh voice he continued to tear at his victim until the rock +was smeared with blood and hair and entrails. Then he rose to his feet and +looked again for Muskwa. The cub was curled up in a shivering ball two feet +in the crevice. It may be that Thor thought he had gone on up the mountain, +for he lost no time now in retreating from the scene of battle. He had +caught the wind again. Bruce and Langdon were sweating, and their smell +came to him strongly. + +For ten minutes Thor paid no attention to the eight dogs yapping at his +heels, except to pause now and then and swing his head about. As he +continued in his retreat the Airedales became bolder, until finally one of +them sprang ahead of the rest and buried his fangs in the grizzly's leg. + +This accomplished what barking had failed to do. With another roar Thor +turned and pursued the pack headlong for fifty yards over the back-trail, +and five precious minutes were lost before he continued upward toward the +shoulder of the mountain. + +Had the wind been in another direction the pack would have triumphed, but +each time that Langdon and Bruce gained ground the wind warned Thor by +bringing to him the warm odour of their bodies. And the grizzly was careful +to keep that wind from the right quarter. He could have gained the top of +the mountain more easily and quickly by quartering the face of it on a +back-trail, but this would have thrown the wind too far under him. As long +as he held the wind he was safe, unless the hunters made an effort to +checkmate his method of escape by detouring and cutting him off. + +It took him half an hour to reach the topmost ridge of rock, from which +point he would have to break cover and reveal himself as he made the last +two or three hundred yards up the shale side of the mountain to the +backbone of the range. + +When Thor made this break he put on a sudden spurt of speed that left the +dogs thirty or forty yards behind him. For two or three minutes he was +clearly outlined on the face of the mountain, and during the last minute of +those three he was splendidly profiled against a carpet of pure-white snow, +without a shrub or a rock to conceal him from the eyes below. + +Bruce and Langdon saw him at five hundred yards, and began firing. Close +over his head Thor heard the curious ripping wail of the first bullet, and +an instant later came the crack of the rifle. + +A second shot sent up a spurt of snow five yards ahead of him. He swung +sharply to the right. This put him broadside to the marksmen. Thor heard a +third shot--and that was all. + +While the reports were still echoing among the crags and peaks something +struck Thor a terrific blow on the flat of his skull, five inches back of +his right ear. It was as if a club had descended upon him from out of the +sky. He went down like a log. + +It was a glancing shot. It scarcely drew blood, but for a moment it stunned +the grizzly, as a man is dazed by a blow on the end of the chin. + +Before he could rise from where he had fallen the dogs were upon him, +tearing at his throat and neck and body. With a roar Thor sprang to his +feet and shook them off. He struck out savagely, and Langdon and Bruce +could hear his bellowing as they stood with fingers on the triggers of +their rifles waiting for the dogs to draw away far enough to give them the +final shots. + +Yard by yard Thor worked his way upward, snarling at the frantic pack, +defying the man-smell, the strange thunder, the burning lightning--even +death itself, and five hundred yards below Langdon cursed despairingly as +the dogs hung so close he could not fire. + +Up to the very sky-line the blood-thirsting pack shielded Thor. He +disappeared over the summit. The dogs followed. And after that their baying +came fainter and fainter as the big grizzly led them swiftly away from the +menace of man in a long and thrilling race from which more than one was +doomed not to return. + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + + +In his hiding-place Muskwa heard the last sounds of the battle on the +ledge. The crevice was a V-shaped crack in the rock, and he had wedged +himself as far back in this as he could. He saw Thor pass the opening of +his refuge after he had killed the fourth dog; he heard the click, click, +click of his claws as he retreated up the trail; and at last he knew that +the grizzly was gone, and that the enemy had followed him. + +Still he was afraid to come out. These strange pursuers that had come up +out of the valley had filled him with a deadly terror. Pipoonaskoos had not +made him afraid. Even the big black bear that Thor killed had not terrified +him as these red-lipped, white-fanged strangers had frightened him. So he +remained in his crevice, crowded as far back as he could get, like a wad +shoved in a gun-barrel. + +He could still hear the tongueing of the dogs when other and nearer sounds +alarmed him. Langdon and Bruce came rushing around the bulge in the +mountain wall, and at sight of the dead dogs they stopped. Langdon cried +out in horror. + +He was not more than twenty feet from Muskwa. For the first time the cub +heard human voices; for the first time the sweaty odour of men filled his +nostrils, and he scarcely breathed in his new fear. Then one of the hunters +stood directly in front of the crack in which he was hidden, and he saw his +first man. A moment later the men, too, were gone. + +Later Muskwa heard the shots. After that the barking of the dogs grew more +and more distant until finally he could not hear them at all. It was about +three o'clock--the siesta hour in the mountains, and it was very quiet. + +For a long time Muskwa did not move. He listened. And he heard nothing. +Another fear was growing in him now--the fear of losing Thor. With every +breath he drew he was hoping that Thor would return. For an hour he +remained wedged in the rock. Then he heard a _cheep, cheep, cheep_, +and a tiny striped rock-rabbit came out on the ledge where Muskwa could see +him and began cautiously investigating one of the slain Airedales. This +gave Muskwa courage. He pricked up his ears a bit. He whimpered softly, as +if beseeching recognition and friendship of the one tiny creature that was +near him in this dreadful hour of loneliness and fear. + +Inch by inch he crawled out of his hiding-place. At last his little round, +furry head was out, and he looked about him. The trail was clear, and he +advanced toward the rock-rabbit. With a shrill chatter the striped mite +darted for its own stronghold, and Muskwa was alone again. + +For a few moments he stood undecided, sniffing the air that was heavy with +the scent of blood, of man, and of Thor; then he turned up the mountain. + +He knew Thor had gone in that direction, and if little Muskwa possessed a +mind and a soul they were filled with but one desire now--to overtake his +big friend and protector. Even fear of dogs and men, unknown quantities in +his life until to-day, was now overshadowed by the fear that he had lost +Thor. + +He did not need eyes to follow the trail. It was warm under his nose, and +he started in the zigzag ascent of the mountain as fast as he could go. +There were places where progress was difficult for his short legs, but he +kept on valiantly and hopefully, encouraged by Thor's fresh scent. + +It took him a good hour to reach the beginning of the naked shale that +reached up to the belt of snow and the sky-line, and it was four o'clock +when he started up those last three hundred yards between him and the +mountain-top. Up there he believed he would find Thor. But he was afraid, +and he continued to whimper softly to himself as he dug his little claws +bravely into the shale. + +Muskwa did not look up to the crest of the peak again after he had started. +To have done that it would have been necessary for him to stop and turn +sidewise, for the ascent was steep. And so, when Muskwa was halfway to the +top, it happened that he did not see Langdon and Bruce as they came over +the sky-line; and he could not smell them, for the wind was blowing up +instead of down. Oblivious of their presence he came to the snow-belt. +Joyously he smelled of Thor's huge footprints, and followed them. And above +him Bruce and Langdon waited, crouched low, their guns on the ground, and +each with his thick flannel shirt stripped off and held ready in his +hands. When Muskwa was less than twenty yards from them they came tearing +down upon him like an avalanche. + +Not until Bruce was upon him did Muskwa recover himself sufficiently to +move. He saw and realized danger in the last fifth of a second, and as +Bruce flung himself forward, his shirt outspread like a net, Muskwa darted +to one side. Sprawling on his face, Bruce gathered up a shirtful of snow +and clutched it to his breast, believing for a moment that he had the cub, +and at this same instant Langdon made a drive that entangled him with his +friend's long legs and sent him turning somersaults down the snow-slide. + +Muskwa bolted down the mountain as fast as his short legs could carry him. +In another second Bruce was after him, and Langdon joined in ten feet +behind. + +Suddenly Muskwa made a sharp turn, and the momentum with which Bruce was +coming carried him thirty or forty feet below him, where the lanky +mountaineer stopped himself only by doubling up like a jack-knife and +digging toes, hands, elbows, and even his shoulders in the soft shale. + +Langdon had switched, and was hot after Muskwa. He flung himself face +downward, shirt outspread, just as the cub made another turn, and when he +rose to his feet his face was scratched and he spat half a handful of dirt +and shale out of his mouth. + +Unfortunately for Muskwa his second turn brought him straight down to +Bruce, and before he could turn again he was enveloped in sudden darkness +and suffocation, and over him there rang out a fiendish and triumphant +yell. + +"I got 'im!" shouted Bruce. + +Inside the shirt Muskwa scratched and bit and snarled, and Bruce was having +his hands full when Langdon ran down with the second shirt. Very shortly +Muskwa was trussed up like a papoose. His legs and his body were swathed so +tightly that he could not move them. His head was not covered. It was the +only part of him that showed, and the only part of him that he could move, +and it looked so round and frightened and funny that for a minute or two +Langdon and Bruce forgot their disappointments and losses of the day and +laughed. + +Then Langdon sat down on one side of Muskwa, and Bruce on the other, and +they filled and lighted their pipes. Muskwa could not even kick an +objection. + +"A couple of husky hunters we are," said Langdon then. "Come out for a +grizzly and end up with that!" + +He looked at the cub. Muskwa was eying him so earnestly that Langdon sat in +mute wonder for a moment, and then slowly took his pipe from his mouth and +stretched out a hand. + +"Cubby, cubby, nice cubby," he cajoled softly. + +Muskwa's tiny ears were perked forward. His bright eyes were like glass. +Bruce, unobserved by Langdon, was grinning expectantly. + +"Cubby won't bite--no--no--nice little cubby--we won't hurt cubby--" + +The next instant a wild yell startled the mountain-tops as Muskwa's +needle-like teeth sank into one of Langdon's fingers. Bruce's howls of joy +would have frightened game a mile away. + +"You little devil!" gasped Langdon, and then, as he sucked his wounded +finger, he laughed with Bruce. "He's a sport--a dead game sport," he added. +"We'll call him Spitfire, Bruce. By George, I've wanted a cub like that +ever since I first came into the mountains. I'm going to take him home +with me! Ain't he a funny looking little cuss?" + +Muskwa shifted his head, the only part of him that was not as stiffly +immovable as a mummy, and scrutinized Bruce. Langdon rose to his feet and +looked back to the sky-line. His face was set and hard. + +"Four dogs!" he said, as if speaking to himself. "Three down below--and one +up there!" He was silent for a moment, and then said: "I can't understand +it, Bruce. They've cornered fifty bears for us, and until to-day we've +never lost a dog." + +Bruce was looping a buckskin thong about Muskwa's middle, making of it a +sort of handle by which he could carry the cub as he would have conveyed a +pail of water or a slab of bacon. He stood up, and Muskwa dangled at the +end of his string. + +"We've run up against a killer," he said. "An' a meat-killin' grizzly is +the worst animal on the face of the earth when it comes to a fight or a +hunt. The dogs'll never hold 'im, Jimmy, an' if it don't get dark pretty +soon there won't none of the bunch come back. They'll quit at dark--if +there's any left. The old fellow's got our wind, an' you can bet he knows +what knocked him down up there on the snow. He's hikin'--an' hikin' fast. +When we see 'im ag'in it'll be twenty miles from here." + +Langdon went up for the guns. When he returned Bruce led the way down the +mountain, carrying Muskwa by the buckskin thong. For a few moments they +paused on the blood-stained ledge of rock where Thor had wreaked his +vengeance upon his tormentors. Langdon bent over the dog the grizzly had +decapitated. + +"This is Biscuits," he said. "And we always thought she was the one coward +of the bunch. The other two are Jane and Tober; old Fritz is up on the +summit. Three of the best dogs we had, Bruce!" + +Bruce was looking over the ledge. He pointed downward. + +"There's another--pitched clean off the face o' the mount'in!" he gasped. +"Jimmy, that's five!" + +Langdon's fists were clenched tightly as he stared over the edge of the +precipice. A choking sound came from his throat. Bruce understood its +meaning. From where they stood they could see a black patch on the +upturned breast of the dog a hundred feet under them. Only one of the pack +was marked like that. It was Langdon's favourite. He had made her a camp +pet. + +"It's Dixie," he said. For the first time he felt a surge of anger sweep +through him, and his face was white as he turned back to the trail. "I've +got more than one reason for getting that grizzly now, Bruce," he added. +"Wild horses can't tear me away from these mountains until I kill him. I'll +stick until winter if I have to. I swear I'm going to kill him--if he +doesn't run away." + +"He won't do that," said Bruce tersely, as he once more swung down the +trail with Muskwa. + +Until now Muskwa had been stunned into submissiveness by what must have +appeared to him to be an utterly hopeless situation. He had strained every +muscle in his body to move a leg or a paw, but he was swathed as tightly as +Rameses had ever been. But now, however, it slowly dawned upon him that as +he dangled back and forth his face frequently brushed his enemy's leg, and +he still had the use of his teeth. He watched his opportunity, and this +came when Bruce took a long step down from a rock, thus allowing Muskwa's +body to rest for the fraction of a second on the surface of the stone from +which he was descending. + +Quicker than a wink Muskwa took a bite. It was a good deep bite, and if +Langdon's howl had stirred the silences a mile away the yell which now +came from Bruce beat him by at least a half. It was the wildest, most +blood-curdling sound Muskwa had ever heard, even more terrible than the +barking of the dogs, and it frightened him so that he released his hold at +once. + +Then, again, he was amazed. These queer bipeds made no effort to +retaliate. The one he had bitten hopped up and down on one foot in a most +unaccountable manner for a minute or so, while the other sat down on a +boulder and rocked back and forth, with his hands on his stomach, and +made a queer, uproarious noise with his mouth wide open. Then the other +stopped his hopping and also made that queer noise. + +It was anything but laughter to Muskwa. But it impinged upon him the truth +of one of two things: either these grotesque looking monsters did not dare +to fight him, or they were very peaceful and had no intention of harming +him. But they were more cautious thereafter, and as soon as they reached +the valley they carried him between them, strung on a rifle-barrel. + +It was almost dark when they approached a clump of balsams red with the +glow of a fire. It was Muskwa's first fire. Also he saw his first horses, +terrific looking monsters even larger than Thor. + +A third man--Metoosin, the Indian--came out to meet the hunters, and into +this creature's hands Muskwa found himself transferred. He was laid on his +side with the glare of the fire in his eyes, and while one of his captors +held him by both ears, and so tightly that it hurt, another fastened a +hobble-strap around his neck for a collar. A heavy halter rope was then +tied to the ring on this strap, and the end of the rope was fastened to a +tree. + +During these operations Muskwa snarled and snapped as much as he could. In +another half-minute he was free of the shirts, and as he staggered on four +wobbly legs, from which all power of flight had temporarily gone, he bared +his tiny fangs and snarled as fiercely as he could. + +To his further amazement this had no effect upon his strange company at +all, except that the three of them--even the Indian--opened their mouths +and joined in that loud and incomprehensible din, to which one of them +had given voice when he sank his teeth into his captor's leg on the +mountainside. It was all tremendously puzzling to Muskwa. + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + + +Greatly to Muskwa's relief the three men soon turned away from him and +began to busy themselves about the fire. This gave him a chance to escape, +and he pulled and tugged at the end of the rope until he nearly choked +himself to death. Finally he gave up in despair, and crumpling himself up +against the foot of the balsam he began to watch the camp. + +He was not more than thirty feet from the fire. Bruce was washing his hands +in a canvas basin. Langdon was mopping his face with a towel. Close to the +fire Metoosin was kneeling, and from the big black skittle he was holding +over the coals came the hissing and sputtering of fat caribou steaks, and +about the pleasantest smell that had ever come Muskwa's way. The air all +about him was heavy with the aroma of good things. + +When Langdon had finished drying his face he opened a can of something. It +was sweetened condensed milk. He poured the white fluid into a basin, and +came with it toward Muskwa. The cub had unsuccessfully attempted flight on +the ground until his neck was sore; now he climbed the tree. He went up so +quickly that Langdon was astonished, and he snarled and spat at the man as +the basin of milk was placed where he would almost fall into it when he +came down. + +Muskwa remained at the end of his rope up the tree, and for a long time the +hunters paid no more attention to him. He could see them eating and he +could hear them talking as they planned a new campaign against Thor. + +"We've got to trick him after what happened to-day," declared Bruce. "No +more tracking 'im after this, Jimmy. We can track until doomsday an' he'll +always know where we are." He paused for a moment and listened. "Funny the +dogs don't come," he said. "I wonder--" + +He looked at Langdon. + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the latter, as he read the significance of his +companion's look. "Bruce, you don't mean to say that bear might kill them +all!" + +"I've hunted a good many grizzlies," replied the mountaineer quietly, "but +I ain't never hunted a trickier one than this. Jimmy, he trapped them dogs +on the ledge, an' he tricked the dog he killed up on the peak. He's liable +to get 'em all into a corner, an' if that happens--" + +He shrugged his shoulders suggestively. + +Again Langdon listened. + +"If there were any alive at dark they should be here pretty soon," he said. +"I'm sorry, now--sorry we didn't leave the dogs at home." + +Bruce laughed a little grimly. + +"Fortunes o' war, Jimmy," he said. "You don't go hunting grizzlies with a +pack of lapdogs, an' you've got to expect to lose some of them sooner or +later. We've tackled the wrong bear, that's all. He's beat us." + +"Beat us?" + +"I mean he's beat us in a square game, an' we dealt a raw hand at that in +using dogs at all. Do you want that bear bad enough to go after him my +way?" + +Langdon nodded. + +"What's your scheme?" + +"You've got to drop pretty idees when you go grizzly hunting," began +Bruce. "And especially when you run up against a 'killer.' There won't be +any hour between now an' denning-up time that this grizzly doesn't get the +wind from all directions. How? He'll make detours. I'll bet if there was +snow on the ground you'd find him back-tracking two miles out of every six, +so he can get the wind of anything that's following him. An' he'll travel +mostly nights, layin' high up in the rocks an' shale during the day. If you +want any more shootin', there's just two things to do, an' the best of them +two things is to move on and find other bears." + +"Which I won't do, Bruce. What's your scheme for getting this one?" + +Bruce was silent for several moments before he replied. + +"We've got his range mapped out to a mile," he said then. "It begins up at +the first break we crossed, an' it ends down here where we came into this +valley. It's about twenty-five miles up an' down. He don't touch the +mount'ins west of this valley nor the mount'ins east of the other valleys +an' he's dead certain to keep on makin' circles so long as we're after +him. He's hikin' southward now on the other side of the range. + +"We'll lay here for a few days an' not move. Then we'll start Metoosin +through the valley over there with the dogs, if there's any left, and we'll +start south through this valley at the same time. One of us will keep to +the slopes an' the other to the bottom, an' we'll travel slow. Get the +idee? + +"That grizzly won't leave his country, an' Metoosin is pretty near bound to +drive him around to us. We'll let him do the open hunting an' we'll skulk. +The bear can't get past us both without giving one of us shooting." + +"It sounds good," agreed Langdon. "And I've got a lame knee that I'm not +unwilling to nurse for a few days." + +Scarcely were the words out of Langdon's mouth when a sudden rattle of +hobble-chains and the startled snort of a grazing horse out in the meadow +brought them both to their feet. + +"Utim!" whispered Metoosin, his dark face aglow in the firelight. + +"You're right--the dogs," said Bruce, and he whistled softly. + +They heard a movement in the brush near them, and a moment later two of +the dogs came into the firelight. They slunk in, half on their bellies, and +as they prostrated themselves at the hunters' feet a third and a fourth +joined them. + +They were not like the pack that had gone out that morning. There were deep +hollows in their sides; their wiry crests were flat; they were hard run, +and they knew that they were beaten. Their aggressiveness was gone, and +they had the appearance of whipped curs. + +A fifth came in out of the night. He was limping, and dragging a torn +foreleg. The head and throat of one of the others was red with blood. They +all lay flat on their bellies, as if expecting condemnation. + +"We have failed," their attitude said; "we are beaten, and this is all of +us that are left." + +Mutely Bruce and Langdon stared at them. They listened--waited. No other +came. And then they looked at each other. + +"Two more of them gone," said Langdon. + +Bruce turned to a pile of panniers and canvases and pulled out the +dog-leashes. Up in his tree Muskwa was all atremble. Within a few yards of +him he saw again the white-fanged horde that had chased Thor and had +driven him into the rock-crevice. Of the men he was no longer greatly +afraid. They had attempted him no harm, and he had ceased to quake and +snarl when one of them passed near. But the dogs were monsters. They had +given battle to Thor. They must have beaten him, for Thor had run away. + +The tree to which Muskwa was fastened was not much more than a sapling, and +he lay in the saddle of a crotch five feet from the ground when Metoosin +led one of the dogs past him. The Airedale saw him and made a sudden spring +that tore the leash from the Indian's hand. His leap carried him almost up +to Muskwa. He was about to make another spring when Langdon rushed forward +with a fierce cry, caught the dog by his collar, and with the end of the +leash gave him a sound beating. Then he led him away. + +This act puzzled Muskwa more than ever. The man had saved him. He had +beaten the monster with the red mouth and the white fangs, and all of those +monsters were now being taken away at the end of ropes. + +When Langdon returned he stopped close to Muskwa's tree and talked to him. +Muskwa allowed Langdon's hand to approach within six inches of him, and did +not snap at it. Then a strange and sudden thrill shot through him. While +his head was turned a little Langdon had boldly put his hand on his furry +back. And in the touch there was not hurt! His mother had never put her paw +on him as gently as that! + +Half a dozen times in the next ten minutes Langdon touched him. For the +first three or four times Muskwa bared his two rows of shining teeth, but +he made no sound. Gradually he ceased even to bare his teeth. + +Langdon left him then, and in a few moments he returned with a chunk of raw +caribou meat. He held this close to Muskwa's nose. Muskwa could smell it, +but he backed away from it, and at last Langdon placed it beside the basin +at the foot of the tree and returned to where Bruce was smoking. + +"Inside of two days he'll be eating out of my hand," he said. + +It was not long before the camp became very quiet. Langdon, Bruce, and the +Indian rolled themselves in their blankets and were soon asleep. The fire +burned lower and lower. Soon there was only a single smouldering log. An +owl hooted a little deeper in the timber. The drone of the valley and the +mountains filled the peaceful night. The stars grew brighter. Far away +Muskwa heard the rumbling of a boulder rolling down the side of a mountain. + +There was nothing to fear now. Everything was still and asleep but himself, +and very cautiously he began to back down the tree. He reached the foot of +it, loosed his hold, and half fell into the basin of condensed milk, a part +of it slopping up over his face. Involuntarily he shot out his tongue and +licked his chops, and the sweet, sticky stuff that it gathered filled him +with a sudden and entirely unexpected pleasure. For a quarter of an hour he +licked himself. And then, as if the secret of this delightful ambrosia had +just dawned upon him, his bright little eyes fixed themselves covetously +upon the tin basin. He approached it with commendable strategy and caution, +circling first on one side of it and then on the other, every muscle in his +body prepared for a quick spring backward if it should make a jump for +him. At last his nose touched the thick, luscious feast in the basin, and +he did not raise his head again until the last drop of it was gone. + +The condensed milk was the one biggest factor in the civilizing of Muskwa. +It was the missing link that connected certain things in his lively little +mind. He knew that the same hand that had touched him so gently had also +placed this strange and wonderful feast at the foot of his tree, and that +same hand had also offered him meat. He did not eat the meat, but he licked +the interior of the basin until it shone like a mirror in the starlight. + +In spite of the milk, he was still filled with a desire to escape, though +his efforts were not as frantic and unreasoning as they had been. +Experience had taught him that it was futile to jump and tug at the end of +his leash, and now he fell to chewing at the rope. Had he gnawed in one +place he would probably have won freedom before morning, but when his jaws +became tired he rested, and when he resumed his work it was usually at a +fresh place in the rope. By midnight his gums were sore, and he gave up his +exertions entirely. + +Humped close to the tree, ready to climb up it at the first sign of +danger, the cub waited for morning. Not a wink did he sleep. Even though he +was less afraid than he had been, he was terribly lonesome. He missed Thor, +and he whimpered so softly that the men a few yards away could not have +heard him had they been awake. If Pipoonaskoos had come into the camp then +he would have welcomed him joyfully. + +Morning came, and Metoosin was the first out of his blankets. He built a +fire, and this roused Bruce and Langdon. The latter, after he had dressed +himself, paid a visit to Muskwa, and when he found the basin licked clean +he showed his pleasure by calling the others' attention to what had +happened. + +Muskwa had climbed to his crotch in the tree, and again he tolerated the +stroking touch of Langdon's hand. Then Langdon brought forth another can +from a cowhide pannier and opened it directly under Muskwa, so that he +could see the creamy white fluid as it was turned into the basin. He held +the basin up to Muskwa, so close that the milk touched the cub's nose, and +for the life of him Muskwa could not keep his tongue in his mouth. Inside +of five minutes he was eating from the basin in Langdon's hand! But when +Bruce came up to watch the proceedings the cub bared all his teeth and +snarled. + +"Bears make better pets than dogs," affirmed Bruce a little later, when +they were eating breakfast. "He'll be following you around like a puppy in +a few days, Jimmy." + +"I'm getting fond of the little cuss already," replied Langdon. "What was +that you were telling me about Jameson's bears, Bruce?" + +"Jameson lived up in the Kootenay country," said Bruce. "Reg'lar hermit, I +guess you'd call him. Came out of the mountains only twice a year to get +grub. He made pets of grizzlies. For years he had one as big as this fellow +we're chasing. He got 'im when a cub, an 'when I saw him he weighed a +thousand pounds an' followed Jameson wherever he went like a dog. Even went +on his hunts with him, an 'they slept beside the same campfire. Jameson +loved bears, an' he'd never kill one." + +Langdon was silent. After a moment he said: "And I'm beginning to love +them, Bruce. I don't know just why, but there's something about bears that +makes you love them. I'm not going to shoot many more--perhaps none after +we get this dog-killer we're after. I almost believe he will be my last +bear." Suddenly he clenched his hands, and added angrily: "And to think +there isn't a province in the Dominion or a state south of the Border that +has a 'closed season' for bear! It's an outrage, Bruce. They're classed +with vermin, and can be exterminated at all seasons. They can even be dug +out of their dens with their young--and--so help me Heaven!--I've helped to +dig them out! We're beasts, Bruce. Sometimes I almost think it's a crime +for a man to carry a gun. And yet--I go on killing." + +"It's in our blood," laughed Bruce, unmoved. "Did you ever know a man, +Jimmy, that didn't like to see things die? Wouldn't every mother's soul of +'em go to a hanging if they had the chance? Won't they crowd like buzzards +round a dead horse to get a look at a man crushed to a pulp under a rock or +a locomotive engine? Why, Jimmie, if there weren't no law to be afraid of, +we humans'd be killing one another for the fun of it! We would. It's born +in us to want to kill." + +"And we take it all out on brute creation," mused Langdon. "After all, we +can't have much sympathy for ourselves if a generation or two of us are +killed in war, can we? Mebby you're right, Bruce. Inasmuch as we can't kill +our neighbours legally whenever we have the inclination, it's possible the +Chief Arbiter of things sends us a war now and then to relieve us +temporarily of our blood-thirstiness. Hello, what in thunder is the cub up +to now?" + +Muskwa had fallen the wrong way out of his crotch and was dangling like the +victim at the end of a hangman's rope. Langdon ran to him, caught him +boldly in his bare hands, lifted him up over the limb and placed him on the +ground. Muskwa did not snap at him or even growl. + +Bruce and Metoosin were away from camp all of that day, spying over the +range to the westward, and Langdon was left to doctor a knee which he had +battered against a rock the previous day. He spent most of his time in +company with Muskwa. He opened a can of their griddle-cake syrup and by +noon he had the cub following him about the tree and straining to reach the +dish which he held temptingly just out of reach. Then he would sit down, +and Muskwa would climb half over his lap to reach the syrup. + +At his present age Muskwa's affection and confidence were easily won. A +baby black bear is very much like a human baby: he likes milk, he loves +sweet things, and he wants to cuddle up close to any living thing that is +good to him. He is the most lovable creature on four legs--round and soft +and fluffy, and so funny that he is sure to keep every one about him in +good humour. More than once that day Langdon laughed until the tears came, +and especially when Muskwa made determined efforts to climb up his leg to +reach the dish of syrup. + +As for Muskwa, he had gone syrup mad. He could not remember that his mother +had ever given him anything like it, and Thor had produced nothing better +than fish. + +Late in the afternoon Langdon untied Muskwa's rope and led him for a stroll +down toward the creek. He carried the syrup dish and every few yards he +would pause and let the cub have a taste of its contents. After half an +hour of this manoeuvring he dropped his end of the leash entirely, and +walked campward. And Muskwa followed! It was a triumph, and in Langdon's +veins there pulsed a pleasurable thrill which his life in the open had +never brought to him before. + +It was late when Metoosin returned, and he was quite surprised that Bruce +had not shown up. Darkness came, and they built up the fire. They were +finishing supper an hour later when Bruce came in, carrying something swung +over his shoulders. He tossed it close to where Muskwa was hidden behind +his tree. + +"A skin like velvet, and some meat for the dogs," he said. "I shot it with +my pistol." + +He sat down and began eating. After a little Muskwa cautiously approached +the carcass that lay doubled up three or four feet from him. He smelled of +it, and a curious thrill shot through him. Then he whimpered softly as he +muzzled the soft fur, still warm with life. And for a time after that he +was very still. + +For the thing that Bruce had brought into camp and flung at the foot of his +tree was the dead body of little Pipoonaskoos! + + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN + + +That night the big loneliness returned to Muskwa. Bruce and Metoosin were +so tired after their hard climb over the range that they went to bed early, +and Langdon followed them, leaving Pipoonaskoos where Bruce had first +thrown him. + +Scarcely a move had Muskwa made after the discovery that had set his heart +beating a little faster. He did not know what death was, or what it meant, +and as Pipoonaskoos was so warm and soft he was sure that he would move +after a little. He had no inclination to fight him now. + +Again it grew very, very still, and the stars filled the sky, and the fire +burned low. But Pipoonaskoos did not move. Gently at first, Muskwa began +nosing him and pulling at his silken hair, and as he did this he whimpered +softly, as if saying, "I don't want to fight you any more, Pipoonaskoos! +Wake up, and let's be friends!" + +But still Pipoonaskoos did not stir, and at last Muskwa gave up all hope +of waking him. And still whimpering to his fat little enemy of the green +meadow how sorry he was that he had chased him, he snuggled close up to +Pipoonaskoos and in time went to sleep. + +Langdon was first up in the morning, and when he came over to see how +Muskwa had fared during the night he suddenly stopped, and for a full +minute he stood without moving, and then a low, strange cry broke from his +lips. For Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos were snuggled as closely as they could +have snuggled had both been living, and in some way Muskwa had arranged it +so that one of the dead cub's little paws was embracing him. + +Quietly Langdon returned to where Bruce was sleeping, and in a minute or +two Bruce returned with him, rubbing his eyes. And then he, too, stared, +and the men looked at each other. + +"Dog meat," breathed Langdon. "You brought it home for dog meat, Bruce!" + +Bruce did not answer, Langdon said nothing more, and neither talked very +much for a full hour after that. During that hour Metoosin came and dragged +Pipoonaskoos away, and instead of being skinned and fed to the dogs he was +put into a hole down in the creek-bottom and covered with sand and stones. +That much, at least, Bruce and Langdon did for Pipoonaskoos. + +This day Metoosin and Bruce again went over the range. The mountaineer had +brought back with him bits of quartz in which were unmistakable signs of +gold, and they returned with an outfit for panning. + +Langdon continued his education of Muskwa. Several times he took the cub +near the dogs, and when they snarled and strained at the ends of their +leashes he whipped them, until with quick understanding they gripped the +fact that Muskwa, although a bear, must not be harmed. + +In the afternoon of this second day he freed the cub entirely from the +rope, and he had no difficulty in recapturing it when he wanted to tie it +up again. The third and fourth days Bruce and the Indian explored the +valley west of the range and convinced themselves finally that the +"colours" they found were only a part of the flood-drifts, and would not +lead to fortune. + +On this fourth night, which happened to be thick with clouds, and chilly, +Langdon experimented by taking Muskwa to bed with him. He expected trouble. +But Muskwa was as quiet as a kitten, and once he found a proper nest for +himself he scarcely made a move until morning. A part of the night Langdon +slept with one of his hands resting on the cub's soft, warm body. + +According to Bruce it was now time to continue the hunt for Thor, but a +change for the worse in Langdon's knee broke in upon their plans. It was +impossible for Langdon to walk more than a quarter of a mile at a time, and +the position he was compelled to take in the saddle caused him so much pain +that to prosecute the hunt even on horseback was out of the question. + +"A few more days won't hurt any," consoled Bruce. "If we give the old +fellow a longer rest he may get a bit careless." + +The three days that followed were not without profit and pleasure for +Langdon. Muskwa was teaching him more than he had ever known about bears, +and especially bear cubs, and he made notes voluminously. + +The dogs were now confined to a clump of trees fully three hundred yards +from the camp, and gradually the cub was given his freedom. He made no +effort to run away, and he soon discovered that Bruce and Metoosin were +also his friends. But Langdon was the only one he would follow. + +On the morning of the eighth day after their pursuit of Thor, Bruce and +Metoosin rode over into the eastward valley with the dogs. Metoosin was to +have a day's start, and Bruce planned to return to camp that afternoon so +that he and Langdon could begin their hunt up the valley the next day. + +It was a glorious morning. A cool breeze came from the north and west, and +about nine o'clock Langdon fastened Muskwa to his tree, saddled a horse, +and rode down the valley. He had no intention of hunting. It was a joy +merely to ride and breathe in the face of that wind and gaze upon the +wonders of the mountains. + +He travelled northward for three or four miles, until he came to a broad, +low slope that broke through the range to the westward. A desire seized +upon him to look over into the other valley, and as his knee was giving him +no trouble he cut a zigzag course upward that in half an hour brought him +almost to the top. + +Here he came to a short, steep slide that compelled him to dismount and +continue on foot. At the summit he found himself on a level sweep of +meadow, shut in on each side of him by the bare rock walls of the split +mountains, and a quarter of a mile ahead he could see where the meadow +broke suddenly into the slope that shelved downward into the valley he was +seeking. + +Halfway over this quarter of a mile of meadow there was a dip into which he +could not see, and as he came to the edge of this he flung himself suddenly +upon his face and for a minute or two lay as motionless as a rock. Then he +slowly raised his head. + +A hundred yards from him, gathered about a small water-hole in the hollow, +was a herd of goats. There were thirty or more, most of them Nannies with +young kids. Langdon could make out only two Billies in the lot. For half an +hour he lay still and watched them. Then one of the Nannies struck out with +her two kids for the side of the mountain; another followed, and seeing +that the whole band was about to move, Langdon rose quickly to his feet and +ran as fast as he could toward them. + +For a moment Nannies, Billies, and little kids were paralyzed by his +sudden appearance. They faced half about and stood as if without the power +of flight until he had covered half the distance between t hem. Then their +wits seemed to return all at once, and they broke in a wild panic for the +side of the nearest mountain. Their hoofs soon began to clatter on boulder +and shale, and for another half-hour Langdon heard the hollow booming of +the rocks loosened by their feet high up among the crags and peaks. At the +end of that time they were infinitesimal white dots on the sky-line. + +He went on, and a few minutes later looked down into the other valley. +Southward this valley was shut out from his vision by a huge shoulder of +rock. It was not very high, and he began to climb it. He had almost reached +the top when his toe caught in a piece of slate, and in falling he brought +his rifle down with tremendous force on a boulder. + +He was not hurt, except for a slight twinge in his lame knee. But his gun +was a wreck. The stock was shattered close to the breech and a twist of his +hand broke it off entirely. + +As he carried two extra rifles in his outfit the mishap did not disturb +Langdon as much as it might otherwise have done, and he continued to climb +over the rocks until he came to what appeared to be a broad, smooth ledge +leading around the sandstone spur of the mountain. A hundred feet farther +on he found that the ledge ended in a perpendicular wall of rock. From this +point, however, he had a splendid view of the broad sweep of country +between the two ranges to the south. He sat down, pulled out his pipe, and +prepared to enjoy the magnificent panorama under him while he was getting +his wind. + +Through his glasses he could see for miles, and what he looked upon was an +unhunted country. Scarcely half a mile away a band of caribou was filing +slowly across the bottom toward the green slopes to the west. He caught the +glint of many ptarmigan wings in the sunlight below. After a time, fully +two miles away, he saw sheep grazing on a thinly verdured slide. + +He wondered how many valleys there were like this in the vast reaches of +the Canadian mountains that stretched three hundred miles from sea to +prairie and a thousand miles north and south. Hundreds, even thousands, he +told himself, and each wonderful valley a world complete within itself; a +world filled with its own life, its own lakes and streams and forests, its +own joys and its own tragedies. + +Here in this valley into which he gazed was the same soft droning and the +same warm sunshine that had filled all the other valleys; and yet here, +also, was a different life. Other bears ranged the slopes that he could see +dimly with his naked eyes far to the west and north. It was a new domain, +filled with other promise and other mystery, and he forgot time and hunger +as he sat lost in the enchantment of it. + +It seemed to Langdon that these hundreds or thousands of valleys would +never grow old for him; that he could wander on for all time, passing from +one into another, and that each would possess its own charm, its own +secrets to be solved, its own life to be learned. To him they were largely +inscrutable; they were cryptic, as enigmatical as life itself, hiding their +treasures as they droned through the centuries, giving birth to multitudes +of the living, demanding in return other multitudes of the dead. As he +looked off through the sunlit space he wondered what the story of this +valley would be, and how many volumes it would fill, if the valley itself +could tell it. + +First of all, he knew, it would whisper of the creation of a world; it +would tell of oceans torn and twisted and thrown aside--of those first +strange eons of time when there was no night, but all was day; when weird +and tremendous monsters stalked where he now saw the caribou drinking at +the creek, and when huge winged creatures half bird and half beast swept +the sky where he now saw an eagle soaring. + +And then it would tell of The Change--of that terrific hour when the earth +tilted on its axis, and night came, and a tropical world was turned into a +frigid one, and new kinds of life were born to fill it. + +It must have been long after that, thought Langdon, that the first bear +came to replace the mammoth, the mastodon, and the monstrous beasts that +had been their company. And that first bear was the forefather of the +grizzly he and Bruce were setting forth to kill the next day! + +So engrossed was Langdon in his thoughts that he did not hear a sound +behind him. And then something roused him. + +It was as if one of the monsters he had been picturing in his imagination +had let out a great breath close to him. He turned slowly, and the next +moment his heart seemed to stop its beating; his blood seemed to grow cold +and lifeless in his veins. + +Barring the ledge not more than fifteen feet from him, his great jaws +agape, his head moving slowly from side to side as he regarded his trapped +enemy, stood Thor, the King of the Mountains! + +And in that space of a second or two Langdon's hands involuntarily gripped +at his broken rifle, and he decided that he was doomed! + + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + + +A broken, choking breath--a stifled sound that was scarcely a cry--was all +that came from Langdon's lips as he saw the monstrous grizzly looking at +him. In the ten seconds that followed he lived hours. + +His first thought was that he was powerless--utterly powerless. He could +not even run, for the rock wall was behind him; he could not fling himself +valleyward, for there was a sheer fall of a hundred feet on that side. He +was face to face with death, a death as terrible as that which had +overtaken the dogs. + +And yet in these last moments Langdon did not lose himself in terror. He +noted even the redness in the avenging grizzly's eyes. He saw the naked +scat along his back where one of his bullets had plowed; he saw the bare +spot where another of his bullets had torn its way through Thor's +fore-shoulder. And he believed, as he observed these things, that Thor had +deliberately trailed him, that the bear had followed him along the ledge +and had cornered him here that he might repay in full measure what had been +inflicted upon him. + +Thor advanced--just one step; and then in that slow, graceful movement, +reared himself to full height. Langdon, even then, thought that he was +magnificent. On his part, the man did not move; he looked steadily up at +Thor, and he had made up his mind what to do when the great beast lunged +forward. He would fling himself over the edge. Down below there was one +chance in a thousand for life. There might be a ledge or a projecting spur +to catch him. + +And Thor! + +Suddenly--unexpectedly--he had come upon man! This was the creature that +had hunted him, this was the creature that had hurt him--and it was so near +that he could reach out with his paw and crush it! And how weak, and white, +and shrinking it looked now! Where was its strange thunder? Where was its +burning lightning? Why did it make no sound? + +Even a dog would have done more than this creature, for the dog would have +shown its fangs; it would have snarled, it would have fought. But this +thing that was man did nothing. And a great, slow doubt swept through +Thor's massive head. Was it really this shrinking, harmless, terrified +thing that had hurt him? He smelled the man-smell. It was thick. And yet +this time there came with it no hurt. + +And then, slowly again, Thor came down to all fours. Steadily he looked at +the man. + +Had Langdon moved then he would have died. But Thor was not, like man, a +murderer. For another half-minute he waited for a hurt, for some sign of +menace. Neither came, and he was puzzled. His nose swept the ground, and +Langdon saw the dust rise where the grizzly's hot breath stirred it. And +after that, for another long and terrible thirty seconds, the bear and the +man looked at each other. + +Then very slowly--and doubtfully--Thor half turned. He growled. His lips +drew partly back. Yet he saw no reason to fight, for that shrinking, +white-faced pigmy crouching on the rock made no movement to offer him +battle. He saw that he could not go on, for the ledge was blocked by the +mountain wall. Had there been a trail the story might have been different +for Langdon. As it was, Thor disappeared slowly in the direction from which +he had come, his great head hung low, his long claws click, click, clicking +like ivory castanets as he went. + +Not until then did it seem to Langdon that he breathed again, and that his +heart resumed its beating. He gave a great sobbing gasp. He rose to his +feet, and his legs seemed weak. He waited--one minute, two, three; and then +he stole cautiously to the twist in the ledge around which Thor had gone. + +The rocks were clear, and he began to retrace his own steps toward the +meadowy break, watching and listening, and still clutching the broken parts +of his rifle. When he came to the edge of the plain he dropped down behind +a huge boulder. + +Three hundred yards away Thor was ambling slowly over the crest of the dip +toward the eastward valley. Not until the bear reappeared on the farther +ridge of the hollow, and then vanished again, did Langdon follow. + +When he reached the slope on which he had hobbled his horse Thor was no +longer in sight. The horse was where he had left it. Not until he was in +the saddle did Langdon feel that he was completely safe. Then he laughed, a +nervous, broken, joyous sort of laugh, and as he scanned the valley he +filled his pipe with fresh tobacco. + +"You great big god of a bear!" he whispered, and every fibre in him was +trembling in a wonderful excitement as he found voice for the first time. +"You--you monster with a heart bigger than man!" And then he added, under +his breath, as if not conscious that he was speaking: "If I'd cornered you +like that I'd have killed you! And you! You cornered me, and let me live!" + +He rode toward camp, and as he went he knew that this day had given the +final touch to the big change that had been working in him. He had met the +King of the Mountains; he had stood face to face with death, and in the +last moment the four-footed thing he had hunted and maimed had been +merciful. He believed that Bruce would not understand; that Bruce could not +understand; but unto himself the day and the hour had brought its meaning +in a way that he would not forget so long as he lived, and he knew that +hereafter and for all time he would not again hunt the life of Thor, or the +lives of any of his kind. + +Langdon reached the camp and prepared himself some dinner, and as he ate +this, with Muskwa for company, he made new plans for the days and weeks +that were to follow. He would send Bruce back to overtake Metoosin the next +day, and they would no longer hunt the big grizzly. They would go on to the +Skeena and possibly even up to the edge of the Yukon, and then swing +eastward into the caribou country some time early in September, hitting +back toward civilization on the prairie side of the Rockies. He would take +Muskwa with them. Back in the land of men and cities they would be great +friends. It did not occur to him just then what this would mean for Muskwa. + +It was two o'clock, and he was still dreaming of new and unknown trails +into the North when a sound came to rouse and disturb him. For a few +minutes he paid no attention to it, for it seemed to be only a part of the +droning murmur of the valley. But slowly and steadily it rose above this, +and at last he got up from where he was lying with his back to a tree and +walked out from the timber, where he could hear more plainly. + +Muskwa followed him, and when Langdon stopped the tan-faced cub also +stopped. His little ears shot out inquisitively. He turned his head to the +north. From that direction the sound was coming. + +In another moment Langdon had recognized it, and yet even then he told +himself that his ears must be playing him false. It could not be the +barking of dogs! By this time Bruce and Metoosin were far to the south with +the pack; at least Metoosin should be, and Bruce was on his return to the +camp! Quickly the sound grew more distinct, and at last he knew that he +could not be mistaken. The dogs were coming up the valley. Something had +turned Bruce and Metoosin northward instead of into the south. And the pack +was giving tongue--that fierce, heated baying which told him they were +again on the fresh spoor of game. A sudden thrill shot through him. There +could be but one living thing in the length and breadth of the valley that +Bruce would set the dogs after, and that was the big grizzly! + +For a few moments longer Langdon stood and listened. Then he hurried back +to camp, tied Muskwa to his tree, armed himself with another rifle, and +resaddled his horse. Five minutes later he was riding swiftly in the +direction of the range where a short time before Thor had given him his +life. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + + +Thor heard the dogs when they were a mile away. There were two reasons why +he was even less in a mood to run from them now than a few days before. Of +the dogs alone he had no more fear than if they had been so many badgers, +or so many whistlers piping at him from the rocks. He had found them all +mouth and little fang, and easy to kill. It was what followed close after +them that disturbed him. But to-day he had stood face to face with the +thing that had brought the strange scent into his valleys, and it had not +offered to hurt him, and he had refused to kill it. Besides, he was again +seeking Iskwao, the she-bear, and man is not the only animal that will risk +his life for love. + +After killing his last dog at dusk of that fatal day when they had pursued +him over the mountain Thor had done just what Bruce thought that he would +do, and instead of continuing southward had made a wider detour toward the +north, and the third night after the fight and the loss of Muskwa he found +Iskwao again. In the twilight of that same evening Pipoonaskoos had died, +and Thor had heard the sharp cracking of Bruce's automatic. All that night +and the next day and the night that followed he spent with Iskwao, and then +he left her once more. A third time he was seeking her when he found +Langdon in the trap on the ledge, and he had not yet got wind of her when +he first heard the baying of the dogs on his trail. + +He was travelling southward, which brought him nearer the hunters' camp. He +was keeping to the high slopes where there were little dips and meadows, +broken by patches of shale, deep coulees, and occasionally wild upheavals +of rock. He was keeping the wind straight ahead so that he would not fail +to catch the smell of Iskwao when he came near her, and with the baying of +the dogs he caught no scent of the pursuing beasts, or of the two men who +were riding behind them. + +At another time he would have played his favourite trick of detouring so +that the danger would be ahead of him, with the wind in his favour. Caution +had now become secondary to his desire to find his mate. The dogs were +less than half a mile away when he stopped suddenly, sniffed the air for a +moment, and then went on swiftly until he was halted by a narrow ravine. + +Up that ravine Iskwao was coming from a dip lower down the mountain, and +she was running. The yelping of the pack was fierce and close when Thor +scrambled down in time to meet her as she rushed upward. Iskwao paused for +a single moment, smelled noses with Thor, and then went on, her ears laid +back flat and sullen and her throat filled with growling menace. + +Thor followed her, and he also growled. He knew that his mate was fleeing +from the dogs, and again that deadly and slowly increasing wrath swept +through him as he climbed after her higher up the mountain. + +In such an hour as this Thor was at his worst. He was a fighter when +pursued as the dogs had pursued him a week before--but he was a demon, +terrible and without mercy, when danger threatened his mate. + +He fell farther and farther behind Iskwao, and twice lie turned, his fangs +gleaming under drawn lips, and his defiance rolling back upon his enemies +in low thunder. + +When he came up out of the coulee he was in the shadow of the peak, and +Iskwao had already disappeared in her skyward scramble. Where she had gone +was a wild chaos of rock-slide and the piled-up debris of fallen and +shattered masses of sandstone crag. The sky-line was not more than three +hundred yards above him. He looked up. Iskwao was among the rocks, and here +was the place to fight. The dogs were close upon him now. They were coming +up the last stretch of the coulee, baying loudly. Thor turned about, and +waited for them. + +Half a mile to the south, looking through his glasses, Langdon saw Thor, +and at almost the same instant the dogs appeared over the edge of the +coulee. He had ridden halfway up the mountain; from that point he had +climbed higher, and was following a well-beaten sheep trail at about the +same altitude as Thor. From where he stood the valley lay under his glasses +for miles. He did not have far to look to discover Bruce and the Indian. +They were dismounting at the foot of the coulee, and as he gazed they ran +quickly into it and disappeared. + +Again Langdon swung back to Thor. The dogs were holding him now, and he +knew there was no chance of the grizzly killing them in that open space. +Then he saw movement among the rocks higher up, and a low cry of +understanding broke from his lips as he made out Iskwao climbing steadily +toward the ragged peak. He knew that this second bear was a female. The big +grizzly--her mate--had stopped to fight. And there was no hope for him if +the dogs succeeded in holding him for a matter of ten or fifteen minutes. +Bruce and Metoosin would appear in that time over the rim of the coulee at +a range of less than a hundred yards! + +Langdon thrust his binoculars in their case and started at a run along the +sheep trail. For two hundred yards his progress was easy, and then the +patch broke into a thousand individual tracks on a slope of soft and +slippery shale, and it took him five minutes to make the next fifty yards. + +The trail hardened again. He ran on pantingly, and for another five minutes +the shoulder of a ridge hid Thor and the dogs from him. When he came over +that ridge and ran fifty yards, down the farther side of it, he stopped +short. Further progress was barred by a steep ravine. He was five hundred +yards from where Thor stood with his back to the rocks and his huge head to +the pack. + +Even as he looked, struggling to get breath enough to shout, Langdon +expected to see Bruce and Metoosin appear out of the coulee. It flashed +upon him then that even if he could make them hear it would be impossible +for them to understand him. Bruce would not guess that he wanted to spare +the beast they had been hunting for almost two weeks. + +Thor had rushed the dogs a full twenty yards toward the coulee when Langdon +dropped quickly behind a rock. There was only one way of saving him now, if +he was not too late. The pack had retreated a few yards down the slope, and +he aimed at the pack. One thought only filled his brain--he must sacrifice +his dogs or let Thor die. And that day Thor had given him his life! + +There was no hesitation as he pressed the trigger. It was a long shot, and +the first bullet threw up a cloud of dust fifty feet short of the +Airedales. He fired again, and missed. The third time his rifle cracked +there answered it a sharp yelp of pain which Laagdon himself did not hear. +One of the dogs rolled over and over down the slope. + +The reports of the shots alone had not stirred Thor, but now when he saw +one of his enemies crumple up and go rolling down the mountain he turned +slowly toward the safety of the rocks. A fourth and then a fifth shot +followed, and at the fifth the yelping dogs dropped back toward the coulee, +one of them limping with a shattered fore-foot. + +Langdon sprang upon the boulder over which he had rested his gun, and his +eyes caught the sky-line. Iskwao had just reached the top. She paused for a +moment and looked down. Then she disappeared. + +Thor was now hidden among the boulders and broken masses of sandstone, +following her trail. Within two minutes after the grizzly disappeared Bruce +and Metoosin scrambled up over the edge of the coulee. From where they +stood even the sky-line was within fairly good shooting distance, and +Langdon suddenly began shouting excitedly, waving his arms, and pointing +downward. + +Bruce and Metoosin were caught by his ruse, in spite of the fact that the +dogs were again giving fierce tongue close to the rocks among which Thor +had gone. They believed that from where he stood Langdon could see the +progress of the bear, and that it was running toward the valley. Not until +they were another hundred yards down the slope did they stop and look back +at Langdon to get further directions. From his rock Langdon was pointing to +the sky-line. + +Thor was just going over. He paused for a moment, as Iskwao had stopped, +and took one last look at man. + +And Langdon, as he saw the last of him, waved his hat and shouted, "Good +luck to you, old man--good luck!" + + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN + + +That night Langdon and Bruce made their new plans, while Metoosin sat +aloof, smoking in stolid silence, and gazing now and then at Langdon as if +he could not yet bring himself to the point of believing what had happened +that afternoon. Thereafter through many moons Metoosin would never forget +to relate to his children and his grandchildren and his friends of the +tepee tribes how he had once hunted with a white man who had shot his own +dogs to save the life of a grizzly bear. Langdon was no longer the same old +Langdon to him, and after this hunt Metoosin knew that he would never hunt +with him again. For Langdon was _keskwao_ now. Something had gone wrong in +his head. The Great Spirit had taken away his heart and had given it to a +grizzly bear, and over his pipe Metoosin watched him cautiously. This +suspicion was confirmed when he saw Bruce and Langdon making a cage out of +a cowhide pannier and realized that the cub was to accompany them on their +long journey. There was no doubt in his mind now. Langdon was "queer," and +to an Indian that sort of queerness boded no good to man. + +The next morning at sunrise the outfit was ready for its long trail into +the northland. Bruce and Langdon led the way up the slope and over the +divide into the valley where they had first encountered Thor, the train +filing picturesquely behind them, with Metoosin bringing up the rear. In +his cowhide pannier rode Muskwa. + +Langdon was satisfied and happy. + +"It was the best hunt of my life," he said to Bruce. "I'll never be sorry +we let him live." + +"You're the doctor," said Bruce rather irreverently. "If I had my way about +it his hide would be back there on Dishpan. Almost any tourist down on the +line of rail would jump for it at a hundred dollars." + +"He's worth several thousand to me alive," replied Langdon, with which +enigmatic retort he dropped behind to see how Muskwa was riding. + +The cub was rolling and pitching about in his pannier like a raw amateur +in a howdab on an elephant's back, and after contemplating him for a few +moments Langdon caught up with Bruce again. + +Half a dozen times during the next two or three hours he visited Muskwa, +and each time that he returned to Bruce he was quieter, as if debating +something with himself. + +It was nine o'clock when they came to what was undoubtedly the end of +Thor's valley. A mountain rose up squarely in the face of it, and the +stream they were following swung sharply to the westward into a narrow +canyon. On the east rose a green and undulating slope up which the horses +could easily travel, and which would take the outfit into a new valley in +the direction of the Driftwood. This course Bruce decided to pursue. + +Halfway up the slope they stopped to give the horses a breathing spell. In +his cowhide prison Muskwa whimpered pleadingly. Langdon heard, but he +seemed to pay no attention. He was looking steadily back into the valley. +It was glorious in the morning sun. He could see the peaks under which lay +the cool, dark lake in which Thor had fished; for miles the slopes were +like green velvet and there came to him as he looked the last droning music +of Thor's world. It struck him in a curious way as a sort of anthem, a +hymnal rejoicing that he was going, and that he was leaving things as they +were before he came. And yet, _was_ he leaving things as they had been? Did +his ears not catch in that music of the mountains something of sadness, of +grief, of plaintive prayer? + +And again, close to him, Muskwa whimpered softly. + +Then Langdon turned to Bruce. + +"It's settled," he said, and his words had a decisive ring in them. "I've +been trying to make up my mind all the morning, and it's made up now. You +and Metoosin go on when the horses get their wind. I'm going to ride down +there a mile or so and free the cub where he'll find his way back home!" + +He did not wait for arguments or remarks, and Bruce made none. He took +Muskwa in his arms and rode back into the south. + +A mile up the valley Langdon came to a wide, open meadow dotted with clumps +of spruce and willows and sweet with the perfume of flowers. Here he +dismounted, and for ten minutes sat on the ground with Muskwa. From his +pocket he drew forth a small paper bag and fed the cub its last sugar. A +thick lump grew in his throat as Muskwa's soft little nose muzzled the palm +of his hand, and when at last he jumped up and sprang into his saddle there +was a mist in his eyes. He tried to laugh. Perhaps he was weak. But he +loved Muskwa, and he knew that he was leaving more than a human friend in +this mountain valley. + +"Good-bye, old fellow," he said, and his voice was choking. "Good-bye, +little Spitfire! Mebby some day I'll come back and see you, and you'll be a +big, fierce bear--but I won't shoot--never--never--" + +He rode fast into the north. Three hundred yards away he turned his head +and looked back. Muskwa was following, but losing ground. Langdon waved his +hand. + +"Good-bye!" he called through the lump in his throat. "Good-bye!" + +Half an hour later he looked down from the top of the slope through his +glasses. He saw Muskwa, a black dot. The cub had stopped, and was waiting +confidently for him to return. + +And trying to laugh again, but failing dismally, Langdon rode over the +divide and out of Muskwa's life. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY + + +For a good half-mile Muskwa followed over the trail of Langdon. He ran at +first; then he walked; finally he stopped entirely and sat down like a dog, +facing the distant slope. Had Langdon been afoot he would not have halted +until he was tired. But the cub had not liked his pannier prison. He +had been tremendously jostled and bounced about, and twice the horse +that carried him had shaken himself, and those shakings had been like +earthquakes to Muskwa. He knew that the cage as well as Langdon was ahead +of him. He sat for a time and whimpered wistfully, but he went no farther. +He was sure that the friend he had grown to love would return after a +little. He always came back. He had never failed him. So he began to hunt +about for a spring beauty or a dog-tooth violet, and for some time he was +careful not to stray very far away from where the outfit had passed. + +All that day the cub remained in the flower-strewn meadows under the +slope; it was very pleasant in the sunshine, and he found more than one +patch of the bulbous roots he liked. He dug, and he filled himself, and he +took a nap in the afternoon; but when the sun began to go down and the +heavy shadows of the mountain darkened the valley he began to grow afraid. + +He was still a very small baby of a cub, and only that one dreadful night +after his mother had died had he spent entirely alone. Thor had replaced +mother, and Langdon had taken the place of Thor, so that until now he had +never felt the loneliness and emptiness of darkness. He crawled under a +clump of thorn close to the trail, and continued to wait, and listen, and +sniff expectantly. The stars came out clear and brilliant, but to-night +their lure was not strong enough to call him forth. Not until dawn did he +steal out cautiously from his shelter of thorn. + +The sun gave him courage and confidence again and he began wandering back +through the valley, the scent of the horse-trail growing fainter and +fainter until at last it disappeared entirely. That day Muskwa ate some +grass and a few dog-tooth violet roots, and when the second night came he +was abreast of the slope over which the outfit had come from the valley in +which were Thor and Iskwao. He was tired and hungry, and he was utterly +lost. + +That night he slept in the end of a hollow log. The next day he went on, +and for many days and many nights after that he was alone in the big +valley. He passed close to the pool where Thor and he had met the old bear, +and he nosed hungrily among the fishbones; he skirted the edge of the dark, +deep lake; he saw the shadowy things fluttering in the gloom of the forest +again; he passed over the beaver dam, and he slept for two nights close to +the log-jam from which he had watched Thor throw out their first fish. He +was almost forgetting Langdon now, and was thinking more and more about +Thor and his mother. He wanted them. He wanted them more than he had ever +wanted the companionship of man, for Muskwa was fast becoming a creature of +the wild again. + +It was the beginning of August before the cub came to the break in the +valley and climbed up the slope where Thor had first heard the thunder and +had first felt the sting of the white men's guns. In these two weeks Muskwa +had grown rapidly, in spite of the fact that he often went to bed on an +empty stomach; and he was no longer afraid of the dark. Through the deep, +sunless canyon above the clay wallow he went, and as there was only one way +out he came at last to the summit of the break over which Thor had gone, +and over which Langdon and Bruce had followed in close pursuit. And the +other valley--his home--lay under Muskwa. + +Of course he did not recognize it. He saw and smelled in it nothing that +was familiar. But it was such a beautiful valley, and so abundantly filled +with plenty and sunshine, that he did not hurry through it. He found whole +gardens of spring beauties and dog-tooth violets. And on the third day he +made his first real kill. He almost stumbled over a baby whistler no larger +than a red squirrel, and before the little creature could escape he was +upon it. It made him a splendid feast. + +It was fully a week before he passed along the creek-bottom close under the +slope where his mother had died. If he had been travelling along the crest +of the slope he would have found her bones, picked clean by the wild +things. It was another week before he came to the little meadow where Thor +had killed the bull caribou and the big black bear. + +And now Muskwa knew that he was home! + +For two days he did not travel two hundred yards from the scene of feast +and battle, and night and day he was on the watch for Thor. Then he had to +seek farther for food, but each afternoon when the mountains began to throw +out long shadows he would return to the clump of trees in which they had +made the cache that the black bear robber had despoiled. + +One day he went farther than usual in his quest for roots. He was a good +half-mile from the place he had made home, and he was sniffing about the +end of a rock when a great shadow fell suddenly upon him. He looked up, and +for a full half-minute he stood transfixed, his heart pounding and jumping +as it had never pounded and jumped before in his life. Within five feet of +him stood Thor! The big grizzly was as motionless as he, looking at him +steadily. And then Muskwa gave a puppy-like whine of joy and ran forward. +Thor lowered his huge head, and for another half-minute they stood without +moving, with Thor's nose buried in the hair on Muskwa's back. After that +Thor went up the slope as if the cub had never been lost at all, and Muskwa +followed him happily. + +Many days of wonderful travel and of glorious feasting came after this, and +Thor led Muskwa into a thousand new places in the two valleys and the +mountains between. There were great fishing days, and there was another +caribou killed over the range, and Muskwa grew fatter and fatter and +heavier and heavier until by the middle of September he was as large as a +good-sized dog. + +Then came the berries, and Thor knew where they all grew low down in the +valleys--first the wild red raspberries, then the soap berries, and after +those the delicious black currants which grew in the cool depths of the +forests and were almost as large as cherries and nearly as sweet as the +sugar which Langdon had fed Muskwa. Muskwa liked the black currants best of +all. They grew in thick, rich clusters; there were no leaves on the bushes +that were loaded with them, and he could pick and eat a quart in five +minutes. + +But at last the time came when there were no berries. This was in October. +The nights were very cold, and for whole days at a time the sun would not +shine, and the skies were dark and heavy with clouds. On the peaks the snow +was growing deeper and deeper, and it never thawed now up near the +sky-line. Snow fell in the valley, too--at first just enough to make a +white carpet that chilled Muskwa's feet, but it quickly disappeared. Raw +winds began to come out of the north, and in place of the droning music of +the valley in summertime there were now shrill wailings and screechings at +night, and the trees made mournful sounds. + +To Muskwa the whole world seemed changing. He wondered in these chill and +dark days why Thor kept to the windswept slopes when he might have found +shelter in the bottoms. And Thor, if he explained to him at all, told him +that winter was very near, and that these slopes were their last feeding +grounds. In the valleys the berries were gone; grass and roots alone were +no longer nourishing enough for their bodies; they could no longer waste +time in seeking ants and grubs; the fish were in deep water. It was the +season when the caribou were keen-scented as foxes and swift as the wind. +Only along the slopes lay the dinners they were sure of--famine-day dinners +of whistlers and gophers. Thor dug for them now, and in this digging Muskwa +helped as much as he could. More than once they turned out wagonloads of +earth to get at the cozy winter sleeping quarters of a whistler family, and +sometimes they dug for hours to capture three or four little gophers no +larger than red squirrels, but lusciously fat. + +Thus they lived through the last days of October into November. And now the +snow and the cold winds and the fierce blizzards from the north came in +earnest, and the ponds and lakes began to freeze over. Still Thor hung to +the slopes, and Muskwa shivered with the cold at night and wondered if the +sun was never going to shine again. + +One day about the middle of November Thor stopped in the very act of +digging out a family of whistlers, went straight down into the valley, and +struck southward in a most businesslike way. They were ten miles from the +clay-wallow canyon when they started, but so lively was the pace set by the +big grizzly that they reached it before dark that same afternoon. + +For two days after this Thor seemed to have no object in life at all. +There was nothing in the canyon to eat, and he wandered about among the +rocks, smelling and listening and deporting himself generally in a fashion +that was altogether mystifying to Muskwa. In the afternoon of the second +day Thor stopped in a dump of jackpines under which the ground was strewn +with fallen needles. He began to eat these needles. They did not look good +to Muskwa, but something told the cub that he should do as Thor was doing; +so he licked them up and swallowed them, not knowing that it was nature's +last preparation for his long sleep. + +It was four o'clock when they came to the mouth of the deep cavern in which +Thor was born, and here again Thor paused, sniffing up and down the wind, +and waiting for nothing in particular. + +It was growing dark. A wailing storm hung over the canyon. Biting winds +swept down from the peaks, and the sky was black and full of snow. + +For a minute the grizzly stood with his head and shoulders in the cavern +door. Then he entered. Muskwa followed. Deep back they went through a +pitch-black gloom, and it grew warmer and warmer, and the wailing of the +wind died away until it was only a murmur. + +It took Thor at least half an hour to arrange himself just as he wanted to +sleep. Then Muskwa curled up beside him. The cub was very warm and very +comfortable. + +That night the storm raged, and the snow fell deep. It came up the canyon +in clouds, and it drifted down through the canyon roof in still thicker +clouds, and all the world was buried deep. When morning came there was no +cavern door, there were no rocks, and no black and purple of tree and +shrub. All was white and still, and there was no longer the droning music +in the valley. + +Deep back in the cavern Muskwa moved restlessly. Thor heaved a deep sigh. +After that long and soundly they slept. And it may be that they dreamed. + + + + +THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN + + +"You are going up from among a people who have many gods to a people who +have but one," said Ransom quietly, looking across at the other. "It would +be better for you if you turned back. I've spent four years in the +Government service, mostly north of Fifty-three, and I know what I'm +talking about. I've read all of your books carefully, and I tell you +now--go back. If you strike up into the Bay country, as you say you're +going to, every dream of socialism you ever had will be shattered, and you +will laugh at your own books. Go back!" + +Roscoe's fine young face lighted up with a laugh at his old college chum's +seriousness. + +"You're mistaken, Ranny," he said. "I'm not a socialist but a sociologist. +There's a distinction, isn't there? I don't believe that my series of books +will be at all complete without a study of socialism as it exists in its +crudest form, and as it must exist up here in the North. My material for +this last book will show what tremendous progress the civilization of two +centuries on this continent has made over the lowest and wildest forms of +human brotherhood. That's my idea, Ranny. I'm an optimist. I believe that +every invention we make, that every step we take in the advancement of +science, of mental and physical uplift, brings us just so much nearer to +the Nirvana of universal love. This trip of mine among your wild people of +the North will give me a good picture of what civilization has gained." + +"What it has lost, you will say a little later," replied Ransom. "See here, +Roscoe--has it ever occurred to you that brotherly love, as you call +it--the real thing--ended when civilization began? Has it ever occurred to +you that somewhere away back in the darkest ages your socialistic Nirvana +may have existed, and that you sociologists might still find traces of it, +if you would? Has the idea ever come to you that there has been a time when +the world has been better than it is to-day, and better than it ever will +be again? Will you, as a student of life, concede that the savage can teach +you a lesson? Will any of your kind? No, for you are self-appointed +civilizers, working according to a certain code." + +Ransom's weather-tanned face had taken on a deeper flush, and there was a +questioning look in Roscoe's eyes, as though he were striving to look +through a veil of clouds to a picture just beyond his vision. + +"If most of us believed as you believe," he said at last, "civilization +would end. We would progress no farther." + +"And this civilization," said Ransom, "can there not be too much of it? Was +it any worse for God's first men to set forth and slay twenty thousand +other men, than it is for civilization's sweat-shops to slay twenty +thousand men, women, and children each year in the making of your cigars +and the things you wear? Civilization means the uplifting of man, doesn't +it, and when it ceases to uplift when it kills, robs, and disrupts in the +name of progress; when the dollar-fight for commercial and industrial +supremacy kills more people in a day than God's first people killed in a +year; when not only people, but nations, are sparring for throat-grips, can +we call it civilization any longer? This talk may all be bally rot, +Roscoe. Ninety-nine out of every hundred people will think that it is. +There are very few these days who stoop to the thought that the human soul +is the greatest of all creations, and that it is the development of the +soul, and not of engines and flying machines and warships, that measures +progress as God meant progress to be. I am saying this because I want you +to be honest when you go up among the savages, as you call them. You may +find up there the last chapter in life, as it was largely intended that +life should be in the beginning of things. And I want you to understand it, +because in your books you possess a power which should be well directed. +When I received your last letter I hunted up the best man I knew as guide +and companion for you--old Rameses, down at the Mission. He is called +Rameses because he looks like the old boy himself. You said you wanted to +learn Cree, and he'll teach it to you. He will teach you a lot of other +things, and when you look at him, especially at night beside the campfire, +you will find something in his face which will recall what I have said, and +make you think of the first people." + +Roscoe, at thirty-two, had not lost his boy's enthusiasm in life, in spite +of the fact that he had studied too deeply, and had seen too much, and had +begun fighting for existence while still in bare feet. From the beginning +it seemed as though some grim monster of fate had hovered about him, making +his path as rough as it could, and striking him down whenever the +opportunity came. His own tremendous energy and ambition had carried him to +the top. + +He worked himself through college, and became a success in his way. But at +no time could he remember real happiness. It had almost come to him, he +thought, a year before--in the form of a girl; but this promise had passed +like the others because, of a sudden, he found that she had shattered the +most precious of all his ideals. So he picked himself up, and, encouraged +by his virile optimism, began looking forward again. Bad luck had so worked +its hand in the moulding of him that he had come to live chiefly in +anticipation, and though this bad luck had played battledore and +shuttlecock with him, the things which he anticipated were pleasant and +beautiful. He believed that the human race was growing better, and that +each year was bringing his ideals just so much nearer to realization. More +than once he had told himself that he was living two or three centuries too +soon. Ransom, his old college chum, had been the first to suggest that he +was living some thousands of years too late. + +He thought of this a great deal during the first pleasant weeks of the +autumn, which he and old Rameses spent up in the Lac la Ronge and Reindeer +Lake country. During this time he devoted himself almost entirely to the +study of Cree under Rameses' tutelage, and the more he learned of it the +more he saw the truth of what Ransom had told him once upon a time, that +the Cree language was the most beautiful in the world. At the upper end of +the Reindeer they spent a week at a Cree village, and one day Roscoe stood +unobserved and listened to the conversation of three young Cree women, who +were weaving reed baskets. They talked so quickly that he could understand +but little of what they said, but their low, soft voices were like music. +He had learned French in Paris, and had heard Italian in Rome, but never in +his life had he heard words or voices so beautiful as those which fell from +the red, full lips of the Cree girls. He thought more seriously than ever +of what Ransom had said about the first people, and the beginning of +things. + +Late in October they swung westward through the Sissipuk and Burntwood +water ways to Nelson House, and at this point Rameses returned homeward. +Roscoe struck north, with two new guides, and on the eighteenth of November +the first of the two great storms which made the year of 1907 one of the +most tragic in the history of the far Northern people overtook them on +Split Lake, thirty miles from a Hudson's Bay post. It was two weeks later +before they reached this post, and here Roscoe was given the first of +several warnings. + +"This has been the worst autumn we've had for years," said the factor to +him. "The Indians haven't caught half enough fish to carry them through, +and this storm has ruined the early-snow hunting in which they usually get +enough meat to last them until spring. We're stinting ourselves on our own +supplies now, and farther north the Company will soon be on famine rations +if the cold doesn't let up--and it won't. They won't want an extra mouth up +there, so you'd better turn back. It's going to be a starvation winter." + +But Roscoe, knowing as little as the rest of man-kind of the terrible +famines of the northern people, which keep an area one-half as large as the +whole of Europe down to a population of thirty thousand, went on. A famine, +he argued, would give him greater opportunity for study. + +Two weeks later he was at York Factory, and from there he continued to Fort +Churchill, farther up on Hudson's Bay. By the time he reached this point, +early in January, the famine of those few terrible weeks during which more +than fifteen hundred people died of starvation had begun. From the Barren +Lands to the edge of the southern watershed the earth lay under from four +to six feet of snow, and from the middle of December until late in February +the temperature did not rise above thirty degrees below zero, and remained +for the most of the time between fifty and sixty. From all points in the +wilderness reports of starvation came to the Company's posts. Traplines +could not be followed because of the intense cold. Moose, caribou, and even +the furred animals had buried themselves under the snow. Indians and +halfbreeds dragged themselves into the posts. Twice Roscoe saw mothers who +brought dead babies in their arms. One day a white trapper came in with +his dogs and sledge, and on the sledge, wrapped in a bear skin, was his +wife, who had died fifty miles back in the forest. + +Late in January there came a sudden rise in the temperature, and Roscoe +prepared to take advantage of the change to strike south and westward +again, toward Nelson House. Dogs could not be had for love or money, so on +the first of February he set out on snowshoes with an Indian guide and two +weeks' supply of provisions. The fifth night, in the wild, Barren country +west of the Etawney, his Indian failed to keep up the fire, and when Roscoe +investigated he found him half dead with a strange sickness. Roscoe thought +of smallpox, the terrible plague that usually follows northern famine, and +a shiver ran through him. He made the Indian's balsam shelter snow and wind +proof, cut wood, and waited. The temperature fell again, and the cold +became intense. Each day the provisions grew less, and at last the time +came when Roscoe knew that he was standing face to face with the Great +Peril. He went farther and farther from camp in his search for game. But +there was no life. Even the brush sparrows and snow hawks were gone. Once +the thought came to him that he might take what food was left, and accept +the little chance that remained of saving himself. But the idea never got +further than a first thought. He kept to his post, and each day spent half +an hour in writing. On the twelfth day the Indian died. It was a terrible +day, the beginning of the second great storm of that winter. There was food +for another twenty-four hours, and Roscoe packed it, together with his +blankets and a little tinware. He wondered if the Indian had died of a +contagious disease. Anyway, he made up his mind to put out the warning for +others if they came that way, and over the dead Indian's balsam shelter he +planted a sapling, and at the end of the sapling he fastened a strip of red +cotton cloth--the plague-signal of the North. + +Then he struck out through the deep snows and the twisting storm, knowing +that there was no more than one chance in a thousand ahead of him, and that +his one chance was to keep the wind at his back. + + * * * * * + +This was the beginning of the wonderful experience which Roscoe Cummins +afterward described in his book "The First People and the Valley of Silent +Men." He prepared another manuscript which for personal reasons was never +published, the story of a dark-eyed girl of the First People--but this is +to come. It has to do with the last tragic weeks of this winter of 1907, in +which it was a toss-up between all things of flesh and blood in the +Northland to see which would win--life or death--and in which a pair of +dark eyes and a voice from the First People turned a sociologist into a +possible Member of Parliament. + + * * * * * + +At the end of his first day's struggle Roscoe built himself a camp in a bit +of scrub timber, which was not much more than brush. If he had been an +older hand he would have observed that this bit of timber, and every tree +and bush that he had passed since noon, was stripped and dead on the side +that faced the north. It was a sign of the Great Barrens, and of the fierce +storms that swept over them, destroying even the life of the trees. He +cooked and ate his last food the following day, and went on. The small +timber turned to scrub, and the scrub, in time, to vast snow wastes over +which the storm swept mercilessly. All this day he looked for game, for a +flutter of bird life; he chewed bark, and in the afternoon got a mouthful +of Fox-bite, which made his throat swell until he could scarcely breathe. +At night he made tea, but had nothing to eat. His hunger was acute and +painful. It was torture the next day--the third--for the process of +starvation is a rapid one in this country where only the fittest survive on +four meals a day. He camped, built a small bush fire at night, and slept. +He almost failed to rouse himself on the morning that followed, and when he +staggered to his feet and felt the cutting sting of the storm still in his +face, and heard the swishing wail of it over the Barren, he knew that at +last the moment had come when he was standing face to face with the +Almighty. + +For some strange reason he was not frightened at the situation. He found +that even over the level spaces he could scarcely drag his snow shoes, but +this had ceased to alarm him as he had been alarmed at first. He went on, +hour after hour, weaker and weaker. Within himself there was still life +which reasoned that if death were to come it could not come in a better +way. It at least promised to be painless--even pleasant. The sharp, +stinging pains of hunger, like little electrical knives piercing him, were +gone; he no longer experienced a sensation of intense cold; he almost felt +that he could lie down in the drifted snow and sleep peacefully. He knew +what it would be--a sleep without end--with the arctic foxes to pick his +bones, and so he resisted the temptation and forced himself onward. The +storm still swept straight west from Hudson's Bay, bringing with it endless +volleys of snow, round and hard as fine shot; snow that had at first seemed +to pierce his flesh, and which swished past his feet, as if trying to trip +him, and tossed itself in windrows and mountains in his path. If he could +only find timber--shelter! That was what he worked for now. When he had +last looked at his watch it was nine o'clock in the morning; now it was +late in the afternoon. It might as well have been night. The storm had long +since half blinded him. He could not see a dozen paces ahead. But the +little life in him still reasoned bravely. It was a heroic spark of life, a +fighting spark, and hard to put out. It told him that when he came to +shelter be would at least _feel_ it, and that he must fight until the last. +And all this time, for ages and ages it seemed to him, he kept mumbling +over and over again Ransom's words: + +_"Go back--Go back--Go back---"_ + +They rang in his brain. He tried to keep step with their monotone. The +storm could not drown them. They were meaningless words to him now, but +they kept him company. Also, his rifle was meaningless, but he clung to it. +The pack on his back held no significance and no weight for him. He might +have travelled a mile or ten miles an hour and he would not have sensed the +difference. Most men would have buried themselves in the snow, and died in +comfort, dreaming the pleasant dreams which come as a sort of recompense to +the unfortunate who die of starvation and cold. But the fighting spark +commanded Roscoe to die upon his feet, if he died at all. It was this spark +which brought him at last to a bit of timber thick enough to give him +shelter from wind and snow. It burned a little more warmly then. It flared +up, and gave him new vision. And, for the first time, he realized that it +must be night. For a light was burning ahead of him, and all else was +gloom. His first thought was that it was a campfire, miles and miles away. +Then it drew nearer--until he knew that it was a light in a cabin window. +He dragged himself toward it, and when he came to the door he tried to +shout. But no sound fell from his swollen lips. It seemed an hour before he +could twist his feet out of his snowshoes. Then he groped for a latch, +pressed against the door, and plunged in. + +What he saw was like a picture suddenly revealed for an instant by a +flashlight. In the cabin there were four men. Two sat at a table, directly +in front of him. One held a dice box poised in the air, and had turned a +rough, bearded face toward him. The other was a younger man, and in this +moment of lapsing consciousness it struck Roscoe as strange that he should +be clutching a can of beans between his hands. A third man stared from +where he had been looking down upon the dice-play of the other two. As +Roscoe came in he was in the act of lowering a half-filled bottle from his +lips. The fourth man sat on the edge of a bunk, with a face so white and +thin that he might have been taken for a corpse if it had not been for a +dark glare in his sunken eyes. Roscoe smelled the odor of whisky; he +smelled food. He saw no sign of welcome in the faces turned toward him, +but he advanced upon them, mumbling incoherently. And then the spark--the +fighting spark in him--gave out, and he crumpled down on the floor. He +heard a voice, which came to him--as if from a great distance, and which +said, "Who the h--l is this?" And then, after what seemed to be a long +time, he heard another voice say, "Pitch him back into the snow." + +After that he lost consciousness. + + * * * * * + +A long time before he awoke he knew that he was not in the snow, and that +hot stuff was running down his throat. When he opened his eyes there was no +longer a light burning in the cabin. It was day. He felt strangely +comfortable, but there was something in the cabin that stirred him from his +rest. It was the odour of frying bacon. He raised himself upon his elbow, +prepared to thank his deliverers, and to eat. All of his hunger had come +back. The joy of life, of anticipation, shone in his thin face as he pulled +himself up. Another face--the bearded face--red-eyed, almost animal-like in +its fierce questioning, bent over him. + +"Where's your grub, pardner?" + +The question was like a stab. Roscoe did not hear his own voice as he +explained. + +"Got none!" The bearded man's voice was like a bellow as he turned upon the +others. + +"He's got no grub!" + +"We'll divvy up, Jack," came a weak voice. It was from the thin, +white-faced man who had sat corpse-like on the edge of his bunk the night +before. + +"Divvy h--l!" growled the bearded man. "It's up to you--you and Scotty. +You're to blame!" + +You're to blame! + +The words struck upon Roscoe's ears with a chill of horror. He recalled the +voice that had suggested throwing him back into the snow. Starvation was in +the cabin. He had fallen among animals instead of men, and his body grew +cold with a chill that was more horrible than that of the snow and the +wind. He saw the thin-faced man who had spoken for him sitting again on the +edge of his bunk. Mutely he looked to the others to see which was Scotty. +He was the young man who had clutched the can of beans. It was he who was +frying bacon over the sheet iron stove. + +"We'll divvy--Henry and I," he said. "I told you that last night." He +looked over at Roscoe. "Glad you're better," he greeted. "You see--you've +struck us at a bad time. We're on our last legs for grub. Our two Indians +went out to hunt a week ago and never came back. They're dead--or gone, and +we're as good as dead if the storm doesn't let up pretty soon. You can have +some of our grub--Henry's and mine." + +It was a cold invitation, lacking warmth or sympathy, and Roscoe felt that +even this man wished that he had died before he reached the cabin. But the +man was human; he at least had not cast his voice with those who had wanted +to throw him back into the snow, and Roscoe tried to voice his gratitude, +and at the same time to hide his hunger. He saw that there were three thin +slices of bacon in the frying pan, and it struck him that it would be bad +taste to reveal a starvation appetite in the face of such famine. He came +up, limping, and stood on the other side of the stove from Scotty. + +"You saved my life," he said, holding out a hand. "Will you shake?" + +Scotty shook hands limply. + +"It's h--l," he said in a low voice. "We'd have had beans this morning if +I hadn't shook dice with him last night." He nodded toward the bearded man, +who was cutting open the top of a can. "He won!" + +"My God!" began Roscoe. + +He didn't finish. Scotty turned the meat, and added: + +"He won a square meal off me yesterday--a quarter of a pound of bacon. Day +before that he won Henry's last can of beans. He's got his share under his +blanket over there, and swears he'll shoot any one who goes to monkeying +with his bed--so you'd better fight shy of it. Thompson--he isn't up +yet--chose the whisky for _his_ share, so you'd better fight shy of him, +too. Henry and I'll divvy up with you." + +"Thanks," said Roscoe, the one word choking him. + +Henry came from his bunk, bent and wobbling. He looked like a dying man, +and for the first time Roscoe saw that his hair was gray. He was a little +man, and his thin hands shook as he held them out over the stove, and +nodded at Roscoe. The bearded man had opened his can, and approached the +stove with a pan of water, coming in beside Roscoe without noticing him. He +brought with him a foul odour of stale tobacco smoke and whisky. After he +had put his water over the fire he turned to one of the bunks and with half +a dozen coarse epithets roused Thompson, who sat up stupidly, still half +drunk. Henry had gone to a small table, and Scotty followed him with the +bacon. But Roscoe did not move. He forgot his hunger. His pulse was beating +quickly. Sensations filled him which he had never known or imagined before. +He had known tragedy; he had investigated to what he had supposed to be the +depths of human vileness--but this that he was experiencing now stunned +him. Was it possible that these were people of his own kind? Had a madness +of some sort driven all human instincts from them? He saw Thompson's red +eyes fastened upon him, and he turned his face to escape their questioning, +stupid leer. The bearded man was turning out the can of beans he had won +from Scotty. Beyond the bearded man the door creaked, and Roscoe heard the +wail of the storm. It came to him now as a friendly sort of sound. + +"Better draw up, pardner," he heard Scotty say. "Here's your share." + +One of the thin slices of bacon and a hard biscuit were waiting for him on +a tin plate. He ate as ravenously as Henry and Scotty, and drank a cup of +hot tea. In two minutes the meal was over. It was terribly inadequate. The +few mouthfuls of food stirred up all his craving, and he found it +impossible to keep his eyes from the bearded man and his beans. The bearded +man, whom Scotty called Croker, was the only one who seemed well fed, and +his horror increased when Henry bent over and said to him in a low whisper: +"He didn't get my beans fair. I had three aces and a pair of deuces, an' he +took it on three fives and two sixes. When I objected he called me a liar +an' hit me. Them's my beans, or Scotty's!" There was something almost like +murder in the little man's red eyes. + +Roscoe remained silent. He did not care to talk, or question. No one had +asked him who he was or whence he came, and he felt no inclination to know +more of the men he had fallen among. Croker finished, wiped his mouth with +his hand, and looked across at Roscoe. + +"How about going out with me to get some wood?" he demanded. + +"I'm ready," replied Roscoe. + +For the first time he took notice of himself. He was lame, and sickeningly +weak, but apparently sound in other ways. The intense cold had not frozen +his ears or feet. He put on his heavy moccasins, his thick coat and fur +cap, and Croker pointed to his rifle. + +"Better take that along," he said. "Can't tell what you might see." + +Roscoe picked it up and the pack which lay beside it. He did not catch the +ugly leer which the bearded man turned upon Thompson. But Henry did, and +his little eyes grew smaller and blacker. On snowshoes the two men went out +into the storm, Croker carrying an axe. He led the way through the bit of +thin timber, and across a wide open over which the storm swept so fiercely +that their trail was covered behind them as they travelled. Roscoe figured +that they had gone a quarter of a mile when they came to another clump of +trees, and Croker gave him the axe. + +"You can cut down some of this," he said. "It's better burning than that +back there. I'm going on for a dry log that I know of. You wait until I +come back." + +Roscoe set to work upon a spruce, but he could scarcely strike out a chip. +After a little he was compelled to drop his axe, and lean against the tree, +exhausted. At intervals he resumed his cutting. It was half an hour before +the small tree fell. Then he waited for Croker. Behind him his trail was +already obliterated. After a little he raised his voice and called for +Croker. There was no reply. The wind moaned above him in the spruce tops. +It made a noise like the wash of the sea out on the open Barren. He shouted +again. And again. The truth dawned upon him slowly--but it came. Croker had +brought him out purposely--to lose him. He was saving the bacon and the +cold biscuits back in the cabin. Roscoe's hands clenched tightly, and then +they relaxed. At last he had found what he was after--his book! It would be +a terrible book, if he carried out the idea that flashed upon him now in +the wailing and twisting of the storm. And then he laughed, for it occurred +to him quickly that the idea would die--with himself. He might find the +cabin, but he would not make the effort. Once more he would fight alone and +for himself. The Spark returned to him, loyally. He buttoned himself up +closely, saw that his snowshoes were securely fastened, and struck out once +more with his back to the storm. He was at least a trifle better off for +meeting with the flesh and blood of his kind. + +The clump of timber thinned out, and Roscoe struck out boldly into the low +bush. As he went, he wondered what would happen in the cabin. He believed +that Henry, of the four, would not pull through alive, and that Croker +would come out best. It was not until the following summer that he learned +the facts of Henry's madness, and of the terrible manner in which he +avenged himself on Croker by sticking a knife under the latter's ribs. + +For the first time in his life Roscoe found himself in a position to +measure accurately the amount of energy contained in a slice of bacon and a +cold biscuit. It was not much. Long before noon his old weakness was upon +him again. He found even greater difficulty in dragging his feet over the +snow, and it seemed now as though all ambition had left him, and that even +the fighting spark was becoming disheartened. He made up his mind to go on +until the arctic gloom of night began mingling with the storm; then he +would stop, build a fire, and go to sleep in its warmth. He would never +wake up, and there would be no sensation of discomfort in his dying. + +During the afternoon he passed out of the scrub into a rougher country. His +progress was slower, but more comfortable, for at times he found himself +protected from the wind. A gloom darker and more sombre than that of the +storm was falling about him when he came to what appeared to be the end of +the Barren. The earth dropped away from under his feet, and far below him, +in a ravine shut out from wind and storm, he saw the black tops of thick +spruce. What life was left in him leaped joyously, and he began to scramble +downward. His eyes were no longer fit to judge distance or chance, and he +slipped. He slipped a dozen times in the first five minutes, and then there +came the time when he did not make a recovery, but plunged down the side of +the mountain like a rock. He stopped with a terrific jar, and for the first +time during the fall he wanted to cry out with pain. But the voice that he +heard did not come from his own lips. It was another voice--and then two, +three, many of them. His dazed eyes caught glimpses of dark objects +floundering in the deep snow about him, and just beyond these objects were +four or five tall mounds of snow, like tents, arranged in a circle. A +number of times that winter Roscoe had seen mounds of snow like these, and +he knew what they meant. He had fallen into an Indian village. He tried to +call out the words of greeting that Rameses had taught him, but he had no +tongue. Then the floundering figures caught him up, and he was carried to +the circle of snow-mounds. The last that he knew was that warmth was +entering his lungs, and that once again there came to him the low, sweet +music of a Cree girl's voice. + +It was a face that he first saw after that, a face that seemed to come to +him slowly from out of night, approaching nearer and nearer until he knew +that it was a girl's face, with great, dark, shining eyes whose lustre +suffused him with warmth and a strange happiness. It was a face of +wonderful beauty, he thought--of a wild sort of beauty, yet with something +so gentle in the shining eyes that he sighed restfully. In these first +moments of his returning consciousness the whimsical thought came to him +that he was dying, and the face was a part of a pleasant dream. If that +were not so he had fallen at last among friends. His eyes opened wider, he +moved, and the face drew back. Movement stimulated returning life, and +reason rehabilitated itself in great bounds. In a dozen flashes he went +over all that had happened up to the point where he had fallen down the +mountain and into the Cree camp. Straight above him he saw a funnel-like +peak through which there drifted a blue film of smoke. He was in a wigwam. +It was warm and exceedingly comfortable. Wondering if he was hurt, he +moved. The movement drew a sharp exclamation of pain from him. It was the +first real sound he had made, and in an instant the face was over him +again. He saw it plainly this time, with its dark eyes and oval cheeks +framed between two great braids of black hair. A hand touched his brow cool +and gentle, and a sweet voice soothed him in half a dozen musical words. +The girl was a Cree. + +At the sound of her voice an Indian woman came up beside her, looked down +at Roscoe for a moment, and then went to the door of the wigwam, speaking +in a low voice to some one who was outside. When she returned a man +followed in after her. He was old and bent, and his face was thin. His +cheek-bones shone, so tightly was the skin drawn over them. And behind him +came a younger man, as straight as a tree, with strong shoulders, and a +head set like a piece of bronze sculpture. Roscoe thought of Ransom and of +his words about old Rameses: + +"You will find something in his face which will recall what I have said, +and make you think of the First People." + +The second man carried in his hand a frozen fish, which he gave to the +woman. And as he gave it to her he spoke words in Cree which Roscoe +understood. + +"It is the last fish." + +For a moment some terrible hand gripped at Roscoe's heart and stopped its +beating. He saw the woman take the fish and cut it into two equal parts +with a knife, and one of these parts he saw her drop into a pot of boiling +water which hung over the stone fireplace built under the vent in the wall. +The girl went up and stood beside the older woman, with her back turned to +him. He opened his eyes wide, and stared. The girl was tall and slender, as +lithely and as beautifully formed as one of the northern lilies that thrust +their slender stems from between the mountain rocks. Her two heavy braids +fell down her back almost to her knees. And this girl, the woman, the two +men _were dividing with him their last fish_! + +He made an effort and sat up. The younger man came to him, and put a bear +skin at his back. He had picked up some of the patois of half-blood French +and English. + +"You seek," he said, "you hurt--you hungr'. You have eat soon." + +He motioned with his hand to the boiling pot. There was not a ficker of +animation in his splendid face. There was something godlike in his +immobility, something that was awesome in the way he moved and breathed. +His voice, too, it seemed to Roscoe, was filled with the old, old mystery +of the beginning of things, of history that was long dead and lost for all +time. And it came upon Roscoe now, like a flood of rare knowledge +descending from a mysterious source, that he had at last discovered the key +to new life, and that through the blindness of reason, through starvation +and death, fate had led him to the Great Truth that was dying with the last +sons of the First People. For the half of the last fish was brought to +him, and he ate; and when the knowledge that he was eating life away from +these people choked him, and he thrust a part of it back, the girl herself +urged him to continue, and he finished, with her dark, glorious eyes fixed +upon him and sending warm floods through his veins. And after that the men +bolstered him up with the bear skin, and the two went out again into the +storm. The woman sat hunched before the fire, and after a little the girl +joined her and piled fresh fagots on the blaze. Then she sat beside her, +with her chin resting in the little brown palms of her hands, the fire +lighting up a half profile of her face and painting rich colour in her +deep-black hair. + +For a long time there was silence, and Roscoe lay as if he were asleep. It +was not an ordinary silence, the silence of a still room, or of +emptiness--but a silence that throbbed and palpitated with an unheard life, +a silence which was thrilling because it spoke a language which Roscoe was +just beginning to understand. The fire grew redder, and the cone-shaped +vacancy at the top of the tepee grew duskier, so Roscoe knew that night was +falling outside. Far above he could hear the storm wailing over the top of +the mountain. Redder and redder grew the birch flame that lighted up the +profile of the girl's face. Once she turned, so that he caught the lustrous +darkness of her eyes upon him. He could not hear the breath of the two in +front of the fire. He heard no sound outside except that of the wind and +the trees, and all grew as dark as it was silent in the snow-covered tepee, +except in front of the fire. And then, as he lay with wide-open eyes, it +seemed to Roscoe as though the stillness was broken by a sob that was +scarcely more than a sigh, and he saw the girl's head droop a little lower +in her hands, and fancied that a shuddering tremor ran through her slender +shoulders. The fire burned low, and she reached out for more fagots. Then +she rose slowly, and turned toward him. She could not see his face in the +gloom, but the deep breathing which he feigned drew her to him, and through +his half-closed eyes he could see her face bending over him, until one of +her heavy braids slipped over her shoulder and fell upon his breast. After +a moment she sat down silently beside him, and he felt her fingers brush +gently through his tangled hair. Something in their light, soft touch +thrilled him, and he moved his hand in the darkness until it came in +contact with the big, soft braid that still lay where it had fallen across +him. He was on the point of speaking, but the fingers left his hair and +stroked as gentle as velvet over his storm-beaten face. She believed that +he was asleep, and a warm flood of shame swept through him at the thought +of his hypocrisy. The birch flared up suddenly, and he saw the glisten of +her hair, the glow of her eyes, and the startled change that came into them +when she saw that his own eyes were wide open, and looking up at her. +Before she could move he had caught her hand, and was holding it tighter to +his face--against his lips. The birch bark died as suddenly as it had +flared up; he heard her breathing quickly, he saw her great eyes melt away +like lustrous stars into the returning gloom, and a wild, irresistible +impulse moved him. He raised his free hand to the dark head, and drew it +down to him, holding it against his feverish face while he whispered +Rameses's prayer of thankfulness in Cree: + +"The spirits bless you forever, _Meeani_." + +The nearness of her, the touch of her heavy hair, the caress of her breath +stirred him still more deeply with the strange, new emotion that was born +in him, and in the darkness he found and kissed a pair of lips, soft and +warm. + +The woman stirred before the fire. The girl drew back, her breath coming +almost sobbingly. And then the thought of what he had done rushed in a +flood of horror upon Roscoe. These wild people had saved his life; they had +given him to eat of their last fish; they were nursing him back from the +very threshold of death--and he had already repaid them by offering to the +Cree maiden next to the greatest insult that could come to her people. He +remembered what Rameses had told him--that the Cree girl's first kiss was +her betrothal kiss; that it was the white garment of her purity, the pledge +of her fealty forever. He lifted himself upon his elbow, but the girl had +run to the door. Voices came from outside, and the two men reentered the +tepee. He understood enough of what was said to learn that the camp had +been holding council, and that two men were about to make an effort to +reach the nearest post. Each tepee was to furnish these two men a bit of +food to keep them alive on their terrible hazard, and the woman brought +forth the half of a fish. She cut it into quarters, and with one of the +pieces the elder man went out again into the night. The younger man spoke +to the girl. He called her Oachi, and to Roscoe's astonishment spoke in +French. + +"If they do not come back, or if we do not find meat in seven days," he +said, "we will die." + +Roscoe made an effort to rise, and the effort sent a rush of fire into his +head. He turned dizzy, and fell back with a groan. In an instant the girl +was at his side--ahead of the man. Her hands were at his face, her eyes +glowing again. He felt that he was falling into a deep sleep. But the eyes +did not leave him. They were wonderful eyes, glorious eyes! He dreamed of +them in the strange sleep that came to him, and they grew more and more +beautiful, shining with a light which thrilled him even in his +unconsciousness. After a time there came a black, more natural sort of +night to him. He awoke from it refreshed. It was day. The tepee was filled +with light, and for the first time he looked about him. He was alone. A +fire burned low among the stones; over it simmered a pot. The earth floor +of the tepee was covered with deer and caribou skins, and opposite him +there was another bunk. He drew himself painfully to a sitting posture and +found that it was his shoulder and hip that hurt him. He rose to his feet, +and stood balancing himself feebly when the door to the tepee was drawn +back and Oachi entered. At sight of him, standing up from his bed, she made +a quick movement to draw back, but Roscoe reached out his hands with a low +cry of pleasure. + +"Oachi," he cried softly. "Come in!" He spoke in French, and Oachi's face +lighted up like sunlight. "I am better," he said. "I am well. I want to +thank you--and the others." He made a step toward her, and the strength of +his left leg gave way. He would have fallen if she had not darted to him so +quickly that she made a prop for him, and her eyes looked up into his +whitened face, big and frightened and filled with pain. + +"Oo-ee-ee," she said in Cree, her red lips rounded as she saw him flinch, +and that one word, a song in a word; came to him like a flute note. + +"It hurts--a little," he said. He dropped back on his bunk, and Oachi sank +upon the skins at his feet, looking up at him steadily with her wonderful, +pure eyes, her mouth still rounded, little wrinkles of tense anxiety drawn +in her forehead. Roscoe laughed. + +For a few moments his soul was filled with a strange gladness. He reached +out his hand and stroked it over her shining hair, and a radiance such as +he had never seen leapt into her eyes. "You--talk--French?" he asked +slowly. + +She nodded. + +"Then tell me this--you are hungry--starving?" + +She nodded again, and made a cup of her two small hands. "No meat. This +little--so much--flour--" Her throat trembled and her voice fluttered. But +even as she measured out their starvation her face was looking at him +joyously. And then she added, with the gladness of a child, "_Feesh_, for +you," and pointed to the simmering pot. + +"For _ME_!" Roscoe looked at the pot, and then back at her. + +"Oachi," he said gently, "go tell your father that I am ready to talk with +him. Ask him to come--now." + +She looked at him for a moment as though she did not quite understand what +he had said, and he repeated the words. Even as he was speaking he +marvelled at the fairness of her skin, which shone with a pink flush, and +at the softness and beauty of her hair. What he saw impelled him to ask, +as she made to rise: + +"Your father--your mother--is French. Is that so, Oachi?" The girl nodded +again, with the soft little Cree throat note that meant yes. Then she +slipped to her feet and ran out, and a little later there came into the +tepee the man who had first loomed up in the dusky light like a god of the +First People to Roscoe Cummins. His splendid face was a little more gaunt +than the night before, and Roscoe knew that famine came hand in hand with +him. He had seen starvation before, and he knew that it reddened the eyes +and gave the lips a grayish pallor. These things, and more, he saw in +Oachi's father. But Mukoki came in straight and erect, hiding his weakness +under the pride of his race. Fighting down his pain Roscoe rose at sight of +him and held out his hands. + +"I want to thank you," he said, repeating the words he had spoken to Oachi. +"You have saved my life. But I have eyes, and I can see. You gave me of +your last fish. You have no meat. You have no flour. You are starving. +What? I have asked you to come and tell me, so that I may know how it +fares with your women and children. You will give me a council, and we will +smoke." Roscoe dropped back on his bunk. He drew forth his pipe and filled +it with tobacco. The Cree sat down mutely in the centre of the tepee. They +smoked, passing the pipe back and forth without speaking. Once Roscoe +loaded the pipe, and once the chief; and when the last puff of the last +pipeful was taken the Indian reached over his hand, and Roscoe gripped it +hard. + +And then, while the storm still moaned far up over their heads, Roscoe +Cummins listened to the old, old story of the First People--the story of +starvation and of death. To him it was epic. It was terrible. But to the +other it was the mere coming and going of a natural thing, of a thing that +had existed for him and for his kind since life began, and he spoke of it +quietly and without a gesture. There had been a camp of twenty-two, and +there were now fifteen. Seven had died, four men, two women, and one child. +Each day during the great storm the men had gone out on their futile search +for game, and every few days one of them had failed to return. Thus four +had died. The dogs were eaten. Corn and fish were gone; there remained but +a little flour, and this was for the women and the children. The men had +eaten nothing but bark and roots for five days. And there seemed to be no +hope. It was death to stray far from the camp. That morning the two men had +set out for the post, but Mukoki said calmly that they would never return. +And then Roscoe spoke of Oachi, his daughter, and for the first time the +iron lines of the chief's bronze face seemed to soften, and his head bent +over a little, and his shoulders drooped. Not until then did Roscoe learn +the depths of sorrow hidden behind the splendid strength of the starving +man. Oachi's mother had been a French woman. Six months before she had died +in this tepee, and Mukoki had buried his wife up on the face of the +mountain, where the storm was moaning. After this Roscoe could not speak. +He was choking. He loaded his pipe again, and sat down close to the chief, +so that their knees and their shoulders touched, and thus, as taught him by +old Rameses, he smoked with Oachi's father the pledge of eternal +friendship, of brotherhood in life, of spirit communion in the Valley of +Silent Men. After that Mukoki left him and he crawled back upon his bunk, +weak and filled with pain, knowing that he was facing death with the +others. He was not afraid, but was filled with a great thankfulness that, +even at the price of starvation, fate had allowed him to touch at last the +edge of the fabric of his dreams. All of that day he wrote, in the hours +when he felt best. He filled page after page of the tablets which he +carried in his pack, writing feverishly and with great haste, oppressed +only by the fear that he would not be able to finish the message which he +had for the people of that other world a thousand miles away. Three times +during the morning Oachi came in and brought him the cooked fish and a +biscuit which she had made for him out of flour and meal. And each time he +said, "I am a man with the other men, Oachi. I would be a woman if I ate." + +The third time Oachi knelt close down at his side, and when he refused the +food again there came a strange light into her eyes, and she said, "If you +starve--I starve!" + +It was the first revelation to him. He put up his hands. They touched her +face. Some potent spirit in him carried him across all gulfs. In that +moment, thrilling, strange, he was heart and soul of the First People. In +an instant he had drifted back a thousand years, beyond the memory of +cities, of clubs, of all that went with civilization. A wild, half savage +longing filled him. One of his hands slipped to her shining hair, and +suddenly their faces lay close to each other, and he knew that in that +moment love had come to him from the fount of glory itself. + + * * * * * + +Days followed--black days filled with the endless terrors of the storm. And +yet they were days of a strange contentment which Roscoe had never felt +before. Oachi and her father were with him a great deal in the tepee which +they had given up to him. On the third day Roscoe noticed that Oachi's +little hands were bruised and red and he found that the chief's daughter +had gone out to dig down through ice and snow with the other women after +roots. The camp lived entirely on roots now--wild flag and moose roots +ground up and cooked in a batter. On this same day, late in the afternoon, +there came a low wailing grief from one of the tepees, a moaning sound that +pitched itself to the key of the storm until it seemed to be a part of it. +A child had died, and the mother was mourning. That night another of the +camp huntsmen failed to return at dusk. + +The next day Roscoe was able to move about in his tepee without pain. Oachi +and her father were with him when, for the first time, he got out his comb +and military brushes and began grooming his touselled hair. Oachi watched +him, and suddenly, seeing the wondering pleasure in her eyes, he held out +the brushes to her. "You may have them, Oachi," he said, and the girl +accepted them with a soft little cry of delight. To his amazement she began +unbraiding her hair immediately, and then she stood up before him, hidden +to her knees in her wonderful wealth of shining tresses, and Roscoe Cummins +thought in this moment that he had never seen a woman more beautiful than +the half Cree girl. When they had gone he still saw her, and the vision +troubled him. They came in again at night, when the fire was sending red +and yellow lights up and down the tepee walls, and the more he watched +Oachi the stronger there grew within him something that seemed to gnaw and +gripe with a dull sort of pain. Oachi was beautiful. He had never seen hair +like her hair. He had never before seen eyes more beautiful. He had never +heard a voice so low and sweet and filled with bird-like ripples of music. +She was beautiful, and yet with her beauty there was a primitiveness, a +gentle savagery, and an age-old story written in the fine lines of her face +which made him uneasy with the thought of a thing that was almost tragedy. +Oachi loved him. He could see that love in her eyes, in her movement; he +could feel it in her presence, and the sweet song of it trembled in her +voice when she spoke to him. Ordinarily a white man would have accepted +this love; he would have rejoiced in it, and would have played with it for +a time, as they have done with the loves of the women of Oachi's people +since the beginning of white man's time. But Roscoe Cummins was of a +different type. He was a man of ideals, and in Oachi's love he saw his +ideal of love set apart from him by illimitable voids. This night, in the +firelit tepee, there came to him like a painful stab the truth of Ransom's +words. He had been born some thousands of years too late. He saw in Oachi +love and life as they might have been for him; but beyond them he also saw, +like a grim and threatening hand, a vision of cities, of toiling millions, +of a great work just begun--a vision of life as it was intended that he +should live it; and to shut it out from him he bowed his head in his two +hands, overwhelmed by a new grief. + +The chief sat with his face to the fire, smoking silently, and Oachi came +to Roscoe's side, and touched hands timidly, like a little child. She +seemed to him wondrously like a child when he lifted his head and looked +down into her face. She smiled at him, questioning him, and he smiled his +answer back, yet neither broke the silence with words. He heard only the +soft little note in Oachi's throat that filled him with such an exquisite +sensation, and he wondered what music would be if it could find expression +through a voice like hers. + +"Oachi," he asked softly, "why did you never sing?" + +The girl looked at him in silence for a moment. + +"We starve," she said. She swept her hand toward the door of the tepee. "We +starve--die--there is no song." + +He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to him, as he might have +done with a little child. + +"I wish you would sing, Oachi," he said. + +For a moment the girl's dark eyes glowed up at him. Then she drew back +softly, and seated herself before the fire, with her back turned toward +him, close beside her father. A strange quiet filled the tepee. Over their +heads the wailing storm seemed to die for a moment; and then something rose +in its place, so low and gentle at first that it seemed like a whisper, but +growing in sweetness and volume until Roscoe Cummins sat erect, his eyes +flashing, his hands clenched, looking at Oachi. The storm rose, and with it +the song--a song that reached down into his soul, stirring him now with its +gladness, now with a half savage pain; but always with a sweetness that +engulfed for him all other things, until he was listening only to the +voice. And then silence came again within the tepee. Over the mountain the +wind burst more fiercely. The chief sat motionless. In Oachi's hair the +firelight glistened with a dull radiance. There was quiet, and yet Roscoe +still heard the voice. He knew that he would always hear it, that it would +never die. + +Not until long afterward did he know that Oachi had sung to him the great +love song of the Crees. + +That night and the next day, and the terrible night and day that followed, +Roscoe fought with himself. He won--when alone--and lost when Oachi was +with him. In some ways she knew intuitively that he loved to see her with +her splendid hair down, and she would sit at his feet and brush it, while +he tried to hide his admiration and smother the passion which sprang up in +his breast when she was near. He knew, in these moments, that it was too +late to kill the thing that was born in him--the craving of his heart and +his soul for this girl of the First People who had laid her life at his +feet and who was removed from him by barriers which he could never pass. On +the afternoon of his seventh day in camp an Indian hunter ran in from the +forest nearly crazed with joy. He had ventured farther away than the +others, and had found a moose-yard. He had killed two of the animals. The +days of famine were over. Oachi brought the first news to Roscoe. Her face +was radiant with joy, her eyes burned like stars, and in her excitement she +stretched out her arms to him as she cried out the wonderful news. Roscoe +took her two hands. + +"Is it true, Oachi?" he asked. "They have surely killed meat?" + +"Yes--yes--yes," she cried. "They have killed meat--much meat--" + +She stopped at the strange, hard look in Roscoe's eyes. He was looking +overhead. If he had looked down, into the glory and love of her eyes, he +would have swept her close in his arms, and the last fight would have been +over then and there. Oachi went out, wondering at the coldness with which +he had received the word of their deliverance, and little guessing that in +that moment he had fought the greatest battle of his life. Each day after +this called him back to the fight. His two broken ribs healed slowly. The +storm passed. The sun followed it, and the March winds began bringing up +warmth from the south. Days grew into weeks, and the snow was growing soft +underfoot before he dared venture forth short distances from the camp +alone. He tried often to make Oachi understand, but he always stopped short +of what he meant to say; his hand would steal to her beautiful hair, and in +Oachi's throat would sound the inimitable little note of happiness. Each +day he was more and more handicapped. For in the joy of her great love +Oachi became more beautiful and her voice still sweeter. By the time the +snows began running down from the mountains and the poplar buds began to +swell she was telling him the most sacred of all sacred things, and one day +she told him of the wonderful world far to the west, painted by the glow of +the setting sun, wherein lay the Valley of Silent Men. + +"And that is Heaven--your Heaven," breathed Roscoe. He was almost well now, +but he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, and Oachi knelt in the old +place upon the deer skin at his feet. As he spoke he stroked her hair. + +"Tell me," he said, "what sort of a place it is, Oachi." + +"It is beautiful," spoke Oachi softly. + +"Long, long ago the Great God came down among us and lived for a time; and +He came at a time like that which has just passed, and He saw suffering, +and hunger, and death. And when He saw what life was He made for us another +world, and told us that it should be called the Valley of Silent Men; and +that when we died we would go to this place, and that at last--when all of +our race were gone--He would cause the earth to roll three times, and in +the Valley of Silent Men all would awaken into life which would never know +death, or sorrow, or pain again. And He says that those who love will +awaken there--hand in hand." + +"It is beautiful," said Roscoe. He felt himself trembling. Oachi's breath +was against his hand. It was his last fight. He half reached out, as if to +clasp her to him; but beyond her he still saw the other thing--the other +world. He rose to his feet, not daring to look at her now. He loved her too +much to sacrifice her. And it would be a sacrifice. He tried to speak +firmly. + +"Oachi," he said, "I am nearly well enough to travel now. I have spent +pleasant weeks with you, weeks which I shall never forget. But it is time +for me to go back to my people. They are expecting me. They are waiting for +me, and wondering at my absence. I am as you would be if you were down +there in a great city. So I must go. I must go to-morrow, or the next day, +or soon after. Oachi--" + +He still looked where he could not see her face. But he heard her move. He +knew that slowly she was drawing away. + +"Oachi--" + +She was near the door now, and his eyes turned toward her. She was looking +back, her slender shoulders bent over, her glorious hair rippling to her +knees, as she had left it undone for him. In her eyes was love such as +falls from the heavens. But her face was as white as a mask. + +"Oachi!" + +With a cry Roscoe reached out his arms. But Oachi was gone. At last the +Cree girl understood. + + * * * * * + +Three days later there came in the passing of a single day and night the +splendour of northern spring. The sun rose warm and golden. From the sides +of the mountains and in the valleys water poured forth in rippling, singing +floods. There bakneesh glowed on bared rocks. Moose-birds, and jays, and +wood-thrushes flitted about the camp, and the air was filled with the +fragrant smells of new life bursting from earth, and tree, and shrub. On +this morning of the third day Roscoe strode forth from his tepee, with his +pack upon his back. An Indian guide waited for him outside. He had smoked +his last pipe with the chief, and now he went from tepee to tepee, in the +fashion of the Crees, and drew a single puff from the pipe of each master, +until there was but one tepee left, and in that was Oachi. With a white +face he rubbed his hand over the deer-flap, and waited. Slowly it was drawn +back, and Oachi came out. He had not seen her since the night he had driven +her from him, and he had planned to say things in this last moment which he +might have said then. But words stumbled on his lips. Oachi was changed. +She seemed taller. Her beautiful eyes looked at him clearly and proudly. +For the first time she was to him Oachi, the "Sun Child," a princess of the +First People--the daughter of a Cree chief. He held out his hand, and the +hand which Oachi gave to him was cold and lifeless. She smiled when he told +her that he had come to say good-bye, and when she spoke to him her voice +was as clear as the stream singing through the canon. His own voice +trembled. In spite of his mightiest effort a tightening fist seemed choking +him. + +"I am coming back--some day," he managed. + +Oachi smiled, with the glory of the morning sun in her eyes and hair. She +turned, still smiling, and pointed far to the west. + +"And some day--the Valley of Silent Men will awaken," she said, and +reentered her father's tepee. + +Out of the camp staggered Roscoe Cummins behind his Indian guide, a +blinding heat in his eyes. Once or twice a gulping sob rose in his throat, +and he clutched hard at his heart to beat himself into submission to the +great law of life as it had been made for him. + +An hour later the two came to a stream where there was a canoe. Because of +rapids and the fierceness of the spring floods, portages were many, and +progress slow during the whole of that day. They had made twenty miles when +the sun began sinking in the west, and they struck camp. After their supper +of meat the Cree rolled himself in his blanket and slept. But for long +hours Roscoe sat beside their fire. Night dropped about him, a splendid +night filled with sweet breaths and stars and a new moon, and with strange +sounds which came to him now in a language which he was beginning to +understand. From far away there floated faintly to his ears the lonely cry +of a wolf, and it no longer made him shudder, but filled him with the +mysterious longing of the cry itself. It was the mate-song of the beast of +prey, sending up its message to the stars--crying out to all the +wilderness for a response to its loneliness. Night birds twittered about +him. A loon laughed in its mocking joy. An owl hooted down at him from the +black top of a tall spruce. From out of starvation and death the wilderness +had awakened. Its sounds spoke to him still of grief, of the suffering that +would never know end; and yet there trembled in them a note of happiness +and of content. Beside the campfire it came to him that in this world he +had discovered two things--a suffering that he had never known, and a peace +he had never known. And Oachi stood for them both. He thought of her until +drowsiness drew a pale film over his eyes. The birch crackled more and more +faintly in the fire and sounds died away. The stillness of sleep fell about +him. Scarce had he fallen into slumber than his eyes seemed to open wide +and wakeful, and out of the gloom beyond the smouldering fire he saw a +human form slowly revealing itself, until there stood clearly within his +vision a figure which he at first took to be that of Mukoki, the chief. But +in another moment he saw that it was even taller than the tall chief, and +that its eyes had searched him out. When he heard a voice, speaking in Cree +the words which mean, "Whither goest thou?" he was startled to hear his +own voice reply: "I am going back to my people." + +He stared into vacancy, for at the sound of his voice the vision faded +away; but there came a voice to him back through the night, which said: +"And it is here that you have found that of which you have dreamed--Life, +and the Valley of Silent Men!" + +Roscoe was wide awake now. The voice and the vision had seemed so real to +him that he looked about him tremblingly into the starlit gloom of the +forest, as if not quite sure that he had been dreaming. Then he crawled +into his balsam shelter, drew his blankets about him, and fell asleep. + +The next day he had little to say to his Indian companion as they made +their way downstream. At each dip of their paddles a deeper sickness seemed +to enter into his heart. Life, after all, he tried to reason, was like a +tailored garment. One might have an ideal, and if that ideal became a +realization it would be found a misfit for one reason or another. So he +told himself, in spite of fill the dreams which had urged him on in the +fight for better things. There flooded upon him now the forceful truth of +what Ransom had said. His work, as he had begun it, was at an end, his +fabric of idealism had fallen into ruins. For he had found all that was +ideal--love, faith, purity, and beauty--and he, Roscoe Cummins, the +idealist, had repulsed them because they were not dressed in the tailored +fashion of his kind. He told himself the truth with brutal directness. +Before him he saw another work in his books, but of a different kind; and +each hour that passed added to the conviction within him that at last that +work would prove a failure. He went off alone into the forest when they +camped, early in the afternoon, and thought of Oachi, who would mourn him +until the end of time. And he--could he forget? What if he had yielded to +temptation, and had taken Oachi with him? She would have come. He knew +that. She would have sacrificed herself to him forever, would have gone +with him into a life which she could not understand, and would never +understand, satisfied to live in his love alone. The old, choking hand +gripped at his heart, and yet with the pain of it there was still a +rejoicing that he had not surrendered to the temptation, that he had been +strong enough to save her. + +The last light of the setting sun cast film-like webs of yellow and gold +through the forest as he turned in the direction of camp. It was that hour +in which a wonderful quiet falls upon the wilderness, the last minutes +between night and day, when all wild life seems to shrink in suspensive +waiting for the change. Seven months had taught Roscoe a quiet of his own. +His moccasined feet made no sound. His head was bent, his shoulders had a +tired droop, and his eyes searched for nothing in the mystery about him. +His heart seemed weighted under a pressure that had taken all life from +him, and close above him, in a balsam bough, a night bird twittered. In +response to it a low cry burst from his lips, a cry of loneliness and of +grief. In that moment he saw Oachi again at his feet; he heard the low, +sweet note of love in her throat, so much like that of the bird over his +head; he saw the soft lustre of her hair, the glory of her eyes, looking up +at him from the half gloom of the tepee, telling him that they had found +their god. It was all so near, so real for a moment, that he sprang erect, +his fingers clutching handfuls of moss. He looked toward the camp, and he +saw something move between the rock and the fire. + +It was a wolf, he thought, or perhaps a lynx, and drawing his revolver he +moved quickly and silently in its direction. The object had disappeared +behind a little clump of balsam shrub within fifty paces of the camp, and +as he drew nearer, until he was no more than ten paces away, he wondered +why it did not break cover. + +There were no trees, and it was quite light where the balsam grew. He +approached, step by step. And then, suddenly, from almost under his hands, +something darted away with a strange, human cry, turning upon him for a +single instant a face that was as white as the white stars of early +night--a face with great, glowing, half-mad eyes. It was Oachi. His pistol +dropped to the ground. His heart stopped beating. No cry, no breath of +sound, came from his paralyzed lips. And like a wild thing Oachi was +fleeing from him into the darkening depths of the forest. Life leaped into +his limbs, and he raced like mad after her, overtaking her with a panting, +joyous cry. When she saw that she was caught the girl turned. Her hair had +fallen, and swept about her shoulders and her body. She tried to speak, but +only bursting sobs came from her breast. As she shrank from him, Roscoe +saw that her clothing was in shreds, and that her thin moccasins were +almost torn from her little feet. The truth held him for another moment +stunned and speechless. Like a lightning flash there recurred to him her +last words: "And some day--the Valley of Silent Men will awaken." He +understood--now. She had followed him, fighting her way through swamp and +forest along the river, hiding from him, and yet keeping him company so +long as her little broken heart could urge her on. And then alone, with a +last prayer for him--_she had planned to kill herself_. He trembled. +Something wonderful happened with him, flooding his soul with day--with a +joy that descended upon him as the Hand of the Messiah must have fallen +upon the heads of the children of Samaria. With a great, glad cry he sprang +toward Oachi and caught her in his arms, crushing her face to him, kissing +her hair and her eyes and her mouth until at last with a strange, soft cry +she put her arms up about his neck and sobbed like a little child upon his +breast. + +Back in the camp the Indian waited. The white stars grew red. In the forest +the shadows deepened to the chaos of night. Once more there was sound, the +pulse and beat of a life that moves in darkness. In the camp the Indian +grew restless with the thought that Roscoe had wandered away until he was +lost. So at last he fired his rifle. + +Oachi started in Roscoe's arms. + +"You should go back--alone," she whispered. The old, fluttering love-note +was in her voice, sweeter than the sweetest music to Roscoe Cummins. He +turned her face up, and held it between his two hands. + +"If I go there," he said, pointing for a moment into the south, "I go +_alone_. But if I go there--" and he pointed into the north--"I go +_with you_. Oachi, my beloved, I am going with you." He drew her close +again, and asked, almost in a whisper: "And when we awaken in the Valley of +Silent Men, how shall it be, my Oachi?" + +And with the sweet love-note, Oachi said in Cree: + +"Hand in hand, my master." + +Hand in hand they returned to the waiting Indian and the fire. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRIZZLY KING*** + + +******* This file should be named 10977.txt or 10977.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/7/10977 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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