"He's like to run before we gets to he," shouted Toby, between bumps of
the speeding sledge, "but I'm thinkin' the dogs'll catch he before he
gets to open water if he tries gettin' away."
But the bear did not run. He rose upon his haunches, and looked upon the
advancing dogs with apparent contempt, the monarch of the ice fields.
"He's a whopper!" exclaimed Charley, his heart beating double time, as
Toby by means of the drag cautiously slackened the speed of the team,
and at a safe distance came to a stop, with the dogs, eager to be at the
bear, springing in their traces and emitting snarls and growls and
little impatient yelps.
"Don't shoot till I gets the dogs clear!" warned Toby. "If he comes at
un whilst they's in harness they won't have a chanst to dodge he!"
Toby threw the komatik upon its side, with its nose against an ice
hummock as an anchorage, and observing this maneuver, the bear resumed
all fours and began a retreat with a lumbering, but astonishingly rapid
gait, toward the northward.
"Go after he and shoot!" Toby shouted, at the same time, with feverish
haste, endeavouring to loosen his rifle from its lashings upon the
komatik, and losing no time in unleashing the dogs.
The bear was already fifty yards away when Charley fired. It was not a
long shot, but in his excitement he missed, and the report of the rifle
did not, apparently, in any manner decrease or accelerate the bear's
speed. Again Charley fired, aiming more carefully, and this time the
bear stopped and bit at a wound in its flank. Taking advantage of the
animal's pause, Charley ran toward it, and fired a third shot. Now the
bear bit at its shoulder, and suddenly in mighty rage turned upon
Charley and charged him.
A cold chill ran up and down his spine, and his hair stood upon end,
when he saw the mighty hulk of the enraged beast coming at him. Again he
fired, but on came the bear, and Charley turned and ran.
[Illustration: THE GREAT PAW SENT TOBY SPRAWLING.]
In the meantime, Toby had extricated his rifle and was running to
Charley's assistance. They were taking a direction at right angles to
Toby, which gave him an excellent opening, and with careful aim he fired
upon the bear.
The bear paused to bite at a fresh wound, and discovering a new enemy,
turned upon Toby who fired again, but with no apparent effect. Hoping to
plant a bullet in the bear's head, Toby held his ground. He threw the
lever forward to eject the empty shell, and jerked it back to insert a
fresh cartridge with undue haste, and to his consternation it jammed. He
jerked at the lever, but it would not move. Beads of perspiration broke
out upon his forehead. The bear was less than a dozen feet from him.
Toby dropped his gun and ran, but he knew he could not outdistance the
furious animal at his heels. At that moment Charley's rifle rang out.
The tip of the bear's great paw reached Toby and sent him sprawling, and
as he fell the bear suddenly sank with a grunt like the dying exhaust of
an engine.
"You got un! You got un!" exclaimed Toby, springing to his feet.
"I thought he was going to get you!" said Charley, all atremble.
"He just touched me!" Toby boasted. "'Tis the first white bear killed in
these parts in two years, whatever!"
Toby and Charley gloated over their prize, and when they had examined
the carcass, Toby declared that it was Charley's last shot, just behind
the shoulder, that had killed it.
"My shots takes un too far for'ard, and all your shots hits un too far
back, except one," Toby declared.
Nearly an hour was occupied in skinning the bear, and in packing and
lashing the meat upon the komatik. While they packed the meat, the dogs
were permitted to feast upon the offal, as their reward, and when all
was ready they turned their faces again toward Pinch-In Tickle, quite
elated with their success.
Travel now, with the heavily laden komatik, was slow, and the overfed
dogs required constant urging. Completely engrossed with the capture and
skinning of the bear, both Toby and Charley had quite forgotten about
the unstable condition of the ice. Now they were aware that the wind was
blowing considerably harder than when they had started. Charley was the
first to speak of it.
"The wind has stiffened," said he with some concern. "The bear made us
forget about the ice. Do you think it's all right?"
"That's what I'm thinkin' about." Toby looked worried. "We'll soon be
knowin'. If the ice has gone abroad from the shore, we're in a worse fix
than the bear had us in."
"What'll we do if it has?" asked Charley with a sinking heart.
"'Twill be a bad fix. 'Twill be a wonderful bad fix. I'm not knowin' how
we'd be gettin' out of a fix like that. I'd be wishin' Dad was here to
get us out of un. He's always findin' a way out of fixes. We won't be
thinkin' about un till we finds out. Dad says folk worry more about
things that don't happen than about things that do."
On they went in silence, tense with uncertainty, for another half hour.
Charley was thinking about what Skipper Zeb had said about worry when
they were in the camp at the Duck's Head, and Skipper Zeb's philosophy
helped him to keep his courage.
"Ah!" Toby suddenly shouted to the dogs, and they came to a stop at the
command. "She's gone abroad from the shore!" and he pointed at a long,
black streak of water between the ice and the shore ahead.
"What'll we do?" asked Charley in a frightened voice. "Can't we get to
land?"
"We'll try un to the west'ard," suggested Toby. "The ice'll hold the
shore longer there. 'Tis only half as far from here as we've come from
the p'int this side of Deer Harbour. There's a narrow place in the bay
where I'm thinkin' the ice may clog and hold."
With this he shouted "Ooisht!" to the dogs, and breaking the komatik
loose, "Ouk! Ouk! Ouk!" until they were pointing toward the opposite
shore of the bay, and farther inland.
"And you runs ahead of the dogs now," suggested Toby, "'twill help un to
work faster. I'll push un with the whip. Make toward the Capstan. That's
that round hill you sees over there," and Toby pointed to a lonely
mountain to the westward.
Charley set forth at a trot. His example, aided by Toby's threatening
whip, accelerated the speed of the dogs perceptibly, and the shore began
to loom up. But the sky had clouded, and presently a fine mist of snow
shut out the Capstan, which was Charley's guide, and at last the entire
shore line was clouded from view.
For some time the dogs had persisted in edging toward the right, which
was seaward, though Toby held them to their course with the whip. After
a little while he called to Charley to come back.
"I'm thinkin' you don't go straight since the snow comes and you can't
see the hill," he explained. "I'll be goin' ahead for a bit and you
drive."
"All right," agreed Charley. "I can drive the team, and you'll know the
way better in the snow."
Still the dogs were obstinate. They at once recognized the change in
drivers, and took advantage of Charley's inexperience. Charley used the
whip, but he could not handle it as effectively as a driver should, and
the dogs gave little heed to it. They insisted upon taking an angle to
the right of Toby's trail, and Charley found that he could not
straighten them out upon the trail.
In desperation he ran forward to the side of the team, with the whip
handle clubbed, to compel obedience. Sampson showed his fangs, and
snapped at Charley's legs. This was a signal for open rebellion on the
part of the whole team. They came to a standstill, and faced him,
showing their fangs, and one or two of them sprang at him, but were held
in leash by their traces.
Toby, looking behind, discovered the situation and came running to
Charley's assistance. Taking the whip from Charley he quickly had the
mutinous dogs reduced to sullen submission.
"I'll not be goin' ahead of un again," said Toby. "'Tis not helpin' to
make they go any. The dogs act wonderful queer. They won't follow like
they always has."
Toby urged them forward. They whined and whimpered, and at last some of
them lay down, and Toby was compelled to beat them into action.
It was directly after this that they came to open water. The boys looked
at each other in consternation.
"What'll we do?" asked Charley.
"I'm not knowin'," confessed Toby. "The ice has gone abroad from the
shore, and we're driftin' out to sea."
"Shall we be--lost?" asked Charley in dull terror.
"It may be she's just settled off from shore here," suggested Toby
hopefully. "She may be holdin' fast up the bay above the narrows. We'll
try un whatever."
He commanded the dogs to go on. They sprang to the traces, but turned to
the right. Against their will, and with free use of the whip, he
succeeded in swinging them to the left and up the wind. Reluctantly and
slowly they moved. They seemed aware of their danger. They were
dissatisfied.
At length Tinker, the leader, squat upon his belly. Toby cracked the
whip over him with a command to go on, and he turned upon his back, paws
in air, as though in meek appeal. Toby clipped him with the tip of the
lash, and he sprang up, turning to the right, and Toby lashed him back
into the course to the left. He gave no display of savagery, as did
Sampson, but appeared to be beseeching his young master to do something
his master could not understand.
The cold had grown intense. The wind had become a stiff gale. The air
was filled with a blinding dust of snow, so thick that Tinker, the
leader, could scarcely be seen from the komatik. The wind was in their
face, and Toby and Charley and the dogs struggled against it as against
an unseen wall. The ice was heaving with an under swell. Now the
komatik would be climbing an incline, now dashing down another.
At last the dogs in sullen mutiny rebelled against further action.
Tinker squatted upon the ice, and the other dogs followed his example,
save Sampson, who faced about at Toby, snarling and showing his fangs.
No beating could induce them to move ahead in the direction in which
they had been traveling, though they made several attempts to swing
about to the right.