The guide was conducting them to a stream that ran into the bay some ten
or twelve miles from the "ostrog." On that stream, he said, they would
be pretty certain to find a bear, if not several: since at a place he
knew of the water was not frozen, and the bears might be there trying to
catch fish. When questioned as to why this particular stream was not
frozen like the others, he said that some distance up it there were warm
springs--a phenomenon of frequent occurrence in the peninsula of
Kamschatka--that these springs supplied most of the water of the stream;
and that for several hundred yards below where they gushed forth, the
river was kept open by their warmth during the severest winters. Not
throughout its whole course, however. Farther down, where the water
became cool, it froze like in other streams; and that this was the case,
was evident to our hunters, who had entered the mouth of the rivers from
the icy surface of the bay, and were gliding in their sledges up its
frozen channel.
After having gone three or four miles up this icebound stream, which ran
through a narrow valley with steep sloping sides, the guide warned our
hunters that they were close to the place where the water would be found
open. At this point a low ridge ran transversely across the valley--
through which the stream had, in process of time, cut a channel; but the
ridge occasioned a dam or lake of some half-dozen acres in superficial
extent, which lay just above it. The dam itself was rarely frozen over;
and it was by the water remaining in it, or flowing sluggishly through
it--and thus giving it time to cool--that the stream immediately below
got frozen over.
The lake lay just on the other side of the ridge, and was now only
hidden from their view by the rise of the ground. If not frozen over,
as the guide conjectured, there was likely to be a bear roaming around
its edge; and therefore they resolved to observe caution in approaching
it.
The sledges were to be taken no further. Our hunters had learnt how to
manage both dog-sledges and dogs. Their experience in Finland, as well
as in the countries of the Hudson's Bay territory, had taught them that;
and made them skilful in the handling of these animals--else they would
have made but poor work in travelling as they did now. In fact, they
could not have managed at all: since it requires a great deal of
training to be able to drive a dog-sledge. This, however, they had
received--both the boys and Pouchskin--and fortunate it had been so; for
very shortly after they were placed in a predicament, in which their
lives depended on their skill as sledge drivers.
The dogs were left under cover of the ridge, near the bottom of the
little slope; a sign was given to them to keep their places--which these
well-trained creatures perfectly comprehended; and the hunters--the
Kurilski with the rest--holding their guns in readiness, ascended
towards the summit of the slope.
There was no cover, except what was afforded by the inequality of the
ground. There were no trees in the valley--only stunted bushes, not
half the height of a man's body, and these nearly buried to their tops
in the snow. A few, however, appeared growing along the crest of the
ridge.
The hunters crawled up to these on all-fours, and peeped cautiously
through their branches.
It was the impatient Ivan that looked first; and what he saw so
surprised him, as almost to deprive him of the power of speech! Indeed,
he was not able to explain what he saw--till the other three had got
forward, and became equally eye-witnesses of the spectacle that had
astonished him.
As the guide had conjectured, the lake was not frozen. There was some
loose snow floating over its surface; but most of the water was open;
and the stream that flowed slowly in on the opposite side was quite
clear of either ice or snow.
The guide had also predicted hypothetically that they might see a bear--
perhaps two. It had not occurred to this man of moderate pretensions
that they might see _twelve_--and yet no less than twelve bears were in
sight!
Yes, twelve bears--they were as easily counted as oxen--were around the
shores of this secluded lake, and on the banks of the little stream that
ran into it--all within five hundred yards of each other. Indeed, it
would have been easy to have mistaken them for a herd of brown heifers
or oxen; had it not been for the various attitudes in which they were
seen: some upon all-fours--some standing erect, like human beings, or
squatted on their hams like gigantic squirrels--others in the water,
their bodies half submerged--others swimming about, their backs and
heads only visible above the surface; and still others, prowling
leisurely along the banks, or over the strip of level meadow-land that
bordered the lake.
Such a sight our bear-hunters had never witnessed before, and might
never witness again, in any other country, save Kamschatka itself.
There it is by no means uncommon; and twenty bears instead of twelve
have been often seen in a single drove--at that season when they descend
from their mountain retreats to their favourite fishing-grounds upon the
lakes and streams.
Our hunters were perplexed by so unexpected a sight; and for some
moments unresolved as to how they should act. Fortunately, the bushes
already mentioned served to conceal them from the bears; and the wind
was blowing towards the hunters--otherwise the bears, who are keen of
scent, would soon have discovered their presence. As it was, not one of
them--though several were close to the ridge--seemed to have any
suspicion that an enemy was so near. The huge quadrupeds appeared to be
too busy about their own affairs--endeavouring to capture the fish--some
of them greedily devouring those they had already taken, and others
wandering restlessly about, or eagerly observing the movements of the
fish in the water. One and all of them looked fierce and famished,
their bodies showing gaunt and flaky, and their enormous limbs having a
lank angular appearance, that gave them a still greater resemblance to
heifers--only heifers that had been half starved!