THE BIGGEST BEAR IN THE WORLD.
As soon as the Boy Scouts had set foot on land Swiftwater drew the boys
about him and assigned certain of the camp duties to each, directing the
Indians, however, to the heaviest tasks of "making camp." A large number
of stones were gathered at the highest point of the sand and gravel, and a
rough fireplace constructed. Two of the Indians, under the direction of
Rand were sent across a short strip of meadow, which intervened between
the point and the adjacent forest, for a supply of firewood. Rand took his
rifle along under Swiftwater's direction, for protection, and with the
suggestion that he might see something worth shooting, although he was
enjoined not to meddle with moose or caribou.
"Not that I think ye'll see any," said Swiftwater, "for they're mighty
scarce here, but it's a poor time of year for the meat. Still, there's a
few cats and other varmints in this section of the country that don't like
strangers, and they make it lively for you."
"Do the cats belong to the Indians?" innocently inquired Jack, remembering
the aborigines' fondness for dogs.
Swiftwater laughed.
"I never seen an Injun that cared to keep one of 'em longer'n he could let
go of it," said the miner. "I'm talkin' of lynxes and the lou'g'rou (loup
garou), the Injun Devil, that is still pretty thick in this country."
The Indians who had come with the expedition were no exception to fondness
for dogs, and had brought two shaggy, short-eared, long-nosed brutes with
them that had never barked or uttered a sound except to snarl at any
stranger who came near them and absolutely refused to make friends with
anyone. One of these accompanied Rand and the two Indians into the woods
and began nosing around in the bush and underbrush, while the two men were
engaged in cutting light wood into short lengths and tying it together in
bundles.
They accumulated nearly two hundred pounds apiece; loads that Rand doubted
their ability to lift, much less carry to camp. They were about ready to
start back when there came from a thicket forty yards distant a shrill
scream that sounded like a child in distress. At the same moment the yelp
of a dog was followed by a succession of snarls and screams so nearly
human that Rand started toward the thicket crying:
"Quick, the dog is worrying a child."
"Na, cat; killum malamute," and with his axe in his hand the Indian rushed
ahead of Rand into the thicket.
As Rand entered the brush the sounds of the struggles and the snarls and
screams were intermixed with the loud commands of the Indian to the dog.
Rand raised his rifle as he burst through the brush after the guide, and
saw the dog and a mass of gray fur mixed up in a writhing rolling combat
that tore up the grass and raised a cloud of dust and mold and leaves.
Before he could get a chance at a shot the Indian had dashed in and with a
single blow of his axe had ended the fight.
When the dog's owner succeeded in separating the dog from the dead animal,
no small task, for the former was made furious by the wounds he had
received, Rand saw the prey to be a short, heavy creature with stumpy tail
and tassled ears.
"Wild cat," muttered the Indian, turning the dead animal over with his
mocassin, so that its formidable claws could be seen, "easy killum dog."
Examining the wounds of the dog, which were not serious, he pointed to the
cat and administered several severe kicks to the dog, which ran snarling
toward the camp, while the guide picked up the body and returned to where
his companion stood fastening his bundle, having apparently taken no
interest in the contest. There was a short exchange of gutterals and then
each of the Indians stooping down placed a band of strong cloth around his
forehead, slipped it under the cord around the wood, and, with the aid of
his companion, easily raised it to his back and walked off to camp as if
it was a burden of no moment.
"Well, I see ye met up with a cat," said Swiftwater, as Rand and the
Indians returned, "and at that ye only got the smallest of the tribe."
"If the others can fight any harder than this specimen, I don't believe I
want to meet any of them. I thought there was a child in the thicket."
"Lots of these cat varmints have voices jest like a human. Ye can't tell a
panther from a squallin' child sometimes."
Bacon, canned beef, potatoes and coffee had already been brought from the
boats and the Indians soon had a rousing fire which soon heated the stones
to red heat. Three of these had been joined together to make a sort of
three corner oven and into this the potatoes were placed, while over
another portion of the fire the bacon was fried and the coffee boiled.
A large tarpaulin had been brought ashore and spread upon the sands, and
upon this, or upon stones placed thereon, the party seated themselves and
ate their repast from tin or thin wooden plates. A day of excitement and
vigorous exercise had furnished them with strong appetites and the rather
coarse food of the camp was greatly relished.
Arrangements for the night had been made by raising a large tarpaulin over
one of the boats upon several of the crossed bars, forming a sort of
shelter under which were spread several of the light mattresses that were
part of the equipment; and Swiftwater directed that the Scouts should all
"turn in" to this improvised barracks together, while he and Skookum Joe
retired to the other boat. The Indians were given several small canvas
coverings known in the army as "dog tents," and were to sleep around the
fire, which one of them was delegated to replenish during the night.
The attraction of the big campfire and the beautiful clear sky overhead
filled the boys with aspirations to "camp out," and they were rather
inclined to grumble at Swiftwater's orders compelling them to sleep on the
boat.
With the growing soldier spirit of the Scouts, they resented being
coddled, as Gerald chose to express it, and he voiced the sentiment of the
patrol when he said:
"Why can't we sleep by the fire, Swiftwater? I feel as if I was being sung
to and then tucked in same as I used to be at home."
"Ye'll have camping out enough before ye're through with the woods; and
I'm not going to take any chances with all that tundra over there, and
that swamp back beyond of starting the season with six fine cases of
malaria on my hands. Until ye're a little better acclimated and a little
more hardened, it's better for ye to sleep with a board or two under
you."
The good sense of the old scout's argument as well as a fine appreciation
of the miner's thoughtfulness for their welfare led the boys to at once
acquiesce, and Rand voiced their appreciation.
Although it was early in the season, and the insect world had hardly
awakened to life, there were a sufficient number of mosquitos about to
remind the boys of Colonel's Snow's injunction regarding the supply of
nettings, and Jack, after several vigorous slaps, murmured sleepily:
"Gee, that certainly sounded like a voice from home."
"They've got the good old Jersey accent," replied Jack.
"Straight from the Hackensack meadows," said Rand, referring to the once
most favored habitat of the mosquito in the East.
"I hae ma doots," said Don, "if that is a mosquito I killed just noo. I
think it was some new kind of night bird."
How long he had been asleep Jack did not know, when he was aroused by the
growling of the two dogs on the shore, and crawled out from under the
tarpaulin. The night was clear, and there was a fine starlight. In the
East there was the faintest glimmer of dawn. The fire on shore had died
down, but the embers still shone. The Indian who had been on watch had
risen from his seat and followed the dogs, which had run growling up the
strip of sand toward the meadow which lay between the water and the woods.
Evidently there was some game in sight, and Jack crawled back under the
tarpaulin and grasped his rifle, a Remington repeater. He did not arouse
any of the others as he had really seen nothing, and was a little
sensitive to possible ridicule.
He ran up the gangplank and stepped ashore. The other Indians were still
asleep and Jack took the trail of the sentinel, whom he could dimly see in
the distance.
The latter turned as he heard Jack's footsteps on the gravel, and waited
for him.
"What is it?" asked Jack.
"No know," replied the Indian, "maybe bear, dogs no fight, only growl."
Dimly through the dawn Jack could make out a black mass lumbering slowly
down through the meadow toward them. The dogs ran around it in circles,
merely growling and offering no attack. At a word from the Indian,
however, they ran in snarling on the animal, which stopped, and with a
loud "woof" reared up on its haunches, showing an enormous height.
"Bear; shootum," cried the Indian, who had only an ax with him. Jack
raised his rifle and fired, and as the bear dropped on all fours fired
another shot.
The animal let out a snarling cry, and, grasping one of the dogs which had
ventured within reach of its enormous paws, squeezed the life out of it
before it could let out a cry. The Indian gave a yell and ran in on the
enormous animal, and with a well-directed blow of the ax split its skull
open between the eyes. At the same time Jack, as a precaution, fired
another shot into the creature's open mouth, and it rolled motionless on
its side.
The shots and the cries of the Indian had aroused every one on the two
boats, and Swiftwater and Skookum Joe came running over the sands, rifles
in hand. By this time the early dawn of the high latitude had rendered all
objects visible, and the boys had also joined Jack and the Indian, who was
circling cautiously around the huge brute, trying to ascertain the fate of
the dog, which was still clasped in the death clutch of the now motionless
animal.
"Ha," exclaimed Swiftwater, "a kodiak, and a corker; the biggest one I
ever saw. You fellers were lucky to get him on the first shot, for that
breed can make an awful mess if they start to fight. Hey, Skookum, catch
hold and let's flop him over."
Having satisfied themselves that the bear was dead, the miner and the
guide, with the aid of the Indians, moved the enormous mass which, with
the Indian's blow, had slumped down upon its hindquarters. With the
greatest difficulty they succeeded in straightening it out. The Indian dog
had been squeezed into a shapeless mass, and, ascertaining this, the
Indian gave it no further attention for the time being.
"Mighty good thing you had a softnosed bullet in that rifle," said
Skookum, pointing to the gaping wound in the breast of the bear. "That
spread, and did the business right away. A steel jacketed bullet would
have gone straight through and would not have done so much harm. Then you
might have been where the dog was."
Jack, who had been seized with a sort of buck fever after he realized what
he had shot, was trembling with excitement as he received the almost
envious congratulations of his friends.
"Begorra, we'll courtmartial you and drop ye from the Patrol," said
Gerald, "if ye insist grabbing all the glory for yourself this way. Why
don't you let us know when you are going out after adventures?"
"Yes, this is the second time that you have gone knight-erranting by your
lone," said Dick, "and I can see nothing for it. If this Patrol of Boy
Scouts is to get any chance to make a reputation it will have to put Mr.
Jack Blake on a leash, and tie him to our wrists when we lie down to
sleep."
"Weel, if that big bear or whatever it is, is really dead, ye've certainly
made a better job of it than ye did with Monkey," exclaimed Don, and, with
the laugh that followed, poor Jack felt that the ridiculousness of that
episode on the steamer had been practically wiped out.
Swiftwater and Skookum measured the huge brown carcass that lay stretched
on the sand before them, and found it to be nearly ten feet from tip to
tip. They guessed its weight to be about eight hundred pounds.
"That's about the limit," said Skookum, "tho' I did hear of a skin once
that measured thirteen feet."
"Well, Jack," said Swiftwater, "you've killed the largest meat-eating
critter, in the world--carnivorous I think ye call it. There's none bigger
than the big brown bear of Alaska. Some say he isn't so fierce as the
grizzly, but he is nearly twice as big, and there's certain seasons that
he'll fight at the drop of the hat, as the sayin' goes. I never see one so
far from the coast before. He's called a kodiak because he hangs out down
on Kodiak Island and on the Alaska and Kenai peninsulas."
"Yes," said Skookum Joe, "he likes salmon better than a Siwash, and he set
on the river bank and fish for himself all day long."
"Smellum salmon," spoke up one of the Indians, pointing to the fire where
some skin of the rough, Indian smoked fish had been thrown by the
aborigines the night before.
"Wa-al," said Swiftwater, with a grin at the Indian, "I reckon they could
'smellum' some o' that seal oil o' yours down to Seattle."
The Indians set swiftly to work while the boys looked on curiously, and
soon had the enormous brown hide of the animal off the body. The latter
they cut up and such portions as were available they put aboard the boats.
A few steaks were cooked for the boys for breakfast, but, as Swiftwater
suggested, they found the meat dry and tough and very lean. The Indians
seemed to relish it, however, and the remaining dog ate enormously.
Swiftwater promised Jack that as soon as they reached their destination he
would arrange for the proper curing of the skin which he could have as a
trophy.
"No," said Jack, "that goes to the Patrol for the floor of our room back
in Creston, and if there is any glory attached to this matter that don't
really belong to that Indian with the ax, I shall be glad to hand that
over to the Patrol."
As they had all been aroused so early, Swiftwater gave orders for an
immediate start up Gold Creek as soon as breakfast was over, that they
might get in a long day and possibly reach their destination before night.
Just as they were aboard and were about casting off, one of the Indians
who had disappeared for a time came running down to the water with a small
bundle of fur in each hand. One was the skin of the wild cat killed the
night before; the other the skin of his dog crushed to death by the bear
that morning.