Watty Links was undoubtedly great in a certain capacity. He resembled a
Dutch galliot, especially built to contain the largest quantity of
merchandise in the smallest tonnage. Of course Watty was not built to
receive merchandise, but he was built to receive food, and the quantity
he could consume when he was unfettered was so great that a crew made up
of men proportionately as great eaters would have made a captain wince
when stores were running out, and shipowners decline to take them again
at any wage.
There being a pretty good amount of the deer haunch left when the men
departed--for in their hurry and excitement no one had thought it worth
while to pack it up--Watty was left, so to speak, with a free hand--that
is to say, he had a fire, plenty of meat, a knife, he knew how to cook,
and there was no one to say, "Hold hard, young fellow! I'm sure you
have had quite enough." So after making such arrangements as should
provide an ample amount of roast deer for Steve when he returned, and
also for the three personages of the expedition, Watty took a look
round.
The sun was getting lower, but the glittering ice peaks and the lights
and shades on the mountain were beautiful to behold. But Watty did not
see that beauty. He noticed how profound the silence was, thought it
very lonely, and turned back to the fire, which was the most beautiful
thing he had seen that day, for the gas and smoke were gone, and the
coal was all of a hot glow, there being plenty and no question of its
price per ton.
"She wonters where the young chief has gone," muttered Watty. "Hey, but
what a fire to broil a bone!"
A minute later the leg bone of the buck was spitting and sputtering on
the glowing coals, and Watty smiled as he felt in his pockets and
brought out a tobacco box, which, on being opened, proved to contain two
pieces of rag, which he also opened, and displayed about a
dessert-spoonful of salt and about half that quantity of black pepper.
"She smells fine alreaty," said the lad; and he took a pinch of pepper
as if it were snuff, and carefully sprinkled it over the grilling bone,
following it up with a pinch of salt. Then the box, with its contents,
was put away, and Watty dived into his pockets again, to bring out a
couple of biscuits.
"Twa biscuit," he said. "Hey, but she willna waste ta pread when she
can have sae muckle gude meat!"
He turned the bone over and waited a few minutes, which he spent in
whetting the blade of his knife on a piece of smooth stone, and trying
its edge again and again, and ending by giving it a stropping on his
boot sole as if he meant to shave.
"Done!" he cried suddenly; and whisking the browned and in some places
blackened bone from the fire, he squatted down with his legs doubled
under him like a Japanese, and began to skin off pieces of the tempting
venison, and ate them deliberately, smiling with satisfaction the while.
"I ken naebody could hae cookit deer meat efer so petter as tat," he
said as he worked away, thoroughly enjoying his picnic meal till the
last scrap was cleaned off, and then he cracked the bone with the back
of his knife, and managed to get out a good deal of the marrow.
"She's fine, though she is mickle," he said; and then he sighed and
looked hard at the pieces of the deer set aside for the absent ones--a
shabby, raggedly cut lot, though of course of delicious meat.
Watty stretched his eyes away and had a look round.
"They dinna come pack," he said, "and it's chust wasting a bonnie bit
fire."
There was a pause.
"She'd petter pit on some mair coal," muttered Watty; and he picked up a
weather-worn lump, but dropped it again.
"It's chust spoiling a gude fire to put on mair coal," he said softly,
with his face all wrinkles, "and a' tat meat waiting."
He had another look round.
"She's ferry hungry," he muttered; "and she'll chust hae ane wee pit.
The captain said he couldna eat. She can."
He made a dart at the biggest piece, laid it on the glowing coal,
seasoned it as before, waited till it was done on one side, and then
picked it up cleverly on the point of his knife and turned it, seasoned
this side also, and replaced his box.
"Peautiful, peautiful!" he murmured. "Hey, put she smells petter than
floores!"
He did not leave the meat to cook too long, but soon had it out and laid
upon a nicely warmed, flat piece of slaty stone, which served him for a
plate as he began to eat with the greatest of gusto.
"Hey, put she is chuicy," he muttered, as he munched away without paying
much heed to a bit or two of cinder adhering to the meat and sounding
unpleasant as he crunched them between his strong, white teeth.
"Peautiful!" he murmured again, as he got about half-way through.
"She's thenking it would pe petter to begin cooking mair so as to be
retty when they come pack."
So he placed another piece on the fire, and then went on eating his
second snack so slowly and deliberately, spending a certain amount of
time the while in watching and turning the cooking piece that it was
beautifully done by the time he had finished; and now came a terrible
test of his powers of endurance. He looked at the frizzled slice, then
away from it, then back at it; and it tempted him so sorely that he got
up and walked away.
"She's letting the fire oot," he cried, and ran back to stand looking
down at it. "Nay, put she'd spoil a gude cooking fire if she put on
anny coal. She'll cook ta rest."
No sooner said than done. A fresh piece was put on the glowing cinders,
and the newly cooked slice placed upon the bit of shale.
"She'll chust spoil if she gets caud," muttered Watty. "The teer-fat
goes hart and stickits to the roof of her mouth, an' it's a pity to
spoil such bonnie meat."
He gave his shock head a rub, and looked round again, wondering whether
there were any bears likely to come and disturb him; but, as far as he
could see, he was quite alone in the grand solitude, and he uttered a
deep sigh.
"She never said she was to cook anny meat," he said, "an' it such a pity
to let it spoil. She'll chust eat this wee pit, an' they'll pe pack py
the time the nex' pit is tone."
Watty took another look, then seasoned and saw to the fresh piece
frizzling; and the next minute the smell and sight of the slice upon the
stone were too tempting to be resisted longer, and he began upon it and
finished it as ravenously as if he had not had a morsel before.
"Hey, put she is fine," he murmured with a sigh of satisfaction; "she
never hat such a gran' treat pefore, an' it would pe wicket to let such
gude meat spoil by ketting caud. The captain an' the tocktor poth said
they wadna eat a pit, an' perhaps Meester Stevey's gone pack to ta ship
or the poat pecause she was tired. She hasna the hairt to see such gude
meat spoil."
Poor Watty had grown reckless now, and, casting conscience to the winds,
he went on with his banquet. His appetite seemed to increase as he went
on, and, forgetful of bears, captains, doctors, Norsemen, and Steves,
seeing, tasting, and enjoying the cooking and eating of these juicy,
well-seasoned, delicious pieces of venison, time seemed to be no more
for him, and he only awoke to his position as he shook out the contents
of his pepper and salt rags on the last piece of meat, a goodly slice,
the best of all, which he had avoided eating, always having selected the
smaller bits.
"Hat she petter leave tat?" he sighed, as he looked at it longingly and
passed his tongue over his lips. "Nay, if she toes, they'll expeckit
mair; put if there's nane they winna say a word. She'll hae to eat tat,
too."
The piece was half done, and he turned it, inhaling its delicious odour
as he gloated over the brown side, and then took out his biscuits and
had them ready.
"Chust to fanish off," he said, smiling faintly. "She'll chust pit it
atween twa biscuit, an' mak' a santwich of it, an' then--Yah!"
Watty uttered an unearthly yell, for a great shadow fell across the fire
at that moment, and he was thrust sidewise, to fall just clear of the
fire upon his face.
"The pears--the pears!" he groaned. "What shall she to?" But he did
not stir, neither did he see that the piece of hot meat had been
literally snatched off the fire, and a crunching sound told him that a
pair of strong jaws, with great, white teeth that in imagination he
could see gleaming, were grinding up the biscuits that were to form the
_finale_ of his meal.
"The pear always hugs her pefore she eats her oop," thought Watty, as he
lay there shivering with dread, this being the only movement he could
contrive, feeling as he did that if he attempted to escape the great
animal would seize him. Then he recollected reading about a traveller
pretending to be dead, and lying face downward till a bear in pursuit
overtook him, smelled him over, and then went away.
"She lie as tet as a toornail," thought Watty; and he tried to hold his
breath as he waited for the bear to come. But it was evidently too busy
with the food, crunching up the biscuits and finishing the meat.
"Oh, if she could only lie still an' not preathe a pit!" said the lad to
himself. "She can't, an' it makes a noise. She wishes the pear would
come an' smell her an' go."
But the new arrival was too busy, and made Watty, as he lay there on his
face, moist with perspiration, wonder how so big a beast could be so
long eating so small a quantity of food.
At last the boy felt as if he could endure no more, and that he must
make a leap to his feet and run for his life. He knew that the thing to
do would be to draw a very deep breath, make a sudden effort, and run,
for the suffering from lying there those brief minutes, which seemed to
be like hours, was more than he could endure.
He had made up his mind to try, but his heart sank, and he lay a little
longer. A second time he tried to screw himself up to the
sticking-point, but failed, and lay panting, till all at once, just as
he was saying to himself, "She must to it ta third time," the bear
uttered a low "Ah-ah-ah!" and the lad sprang to his feet.
"That's right, Watty; get me a drink of water."
"Meester Stevey!" exclaimed the lad. "Oh! oh! oh!" he half sobbed, and,
throwing himself again upon the ground, he buried his face in his hands,
and lay gently rolling from side to side, trying to stifle the
hysterical fit which had attacked him; for it was mingled with relief
from what he had looked upon as certain death, anger with himself for
making such a blunder, and delight at Steve's return.
"Why, Watty, what's the matter?" cried Steve. "I do believe he's
crying. Get up. Did you think I was dead?"
"Yes, we all tought you wass teat, an' I tought the pear wass come to
eat me, ant--ant--ant--she's ferry clad to see you acain, though she
don't like you."
"Well, you are a rum chap, Watty! I say, you didn't mind my snatching
away that meat? I couldn't help it, I was nearly starved."
"No, she ton't mind," replied the lad. "She'd hat a little pit o' meat
pefore. But she's all scratted, an' her het pleets, an' she's cot no
skin on her knuckles!"
"Oh, never mind that! I got away--escaped. But it was very bad."
"Put it wass ferry pad! What wass ferry pad?"
"Having a couple of bears after you."
"An' she had twa pears after her?"
"Yes, monsters. They hunted me all along a gully right up into the
mountain."
"Hey! An' tid they catch her?"
"No; one got tired and stopped, but the other came right on to where it
was all ice and snow. Up yonder," said Steve, pointing to the
glittering slopes and peaks far above their heads.
"An' what tid that one to? Tid she ket tired?"
"No," said Steve. "I made a jump to get up a steep bit of the ice,
caught hold, and then fell right on to the bear as it was coming up
after me."
"Hey, tid she, though?"
"Yes; and knocked it off the slope, and we went down together for a
little way rolling over and over. Then I found I was alone, for the
bear had clawed about and stopped itself; but I was sliding and slipping
there down and down, I don't know how far, but it must have been
hundreds of feet over the steep snow, till I rolled over among the
stones and cut my head."
"Hey, and she has cut it! Hadn't she petter tie it up?"
"Oh, that's nothing."
"Put what tid the pear to?"
"I don't know. I didn't see any more of it. I suppose it's up there in
the mountain somewhere. I say, Watty, I wish I'd had Skeny with me. I
don't know, though; perhaps the bears would have killed him. Where are
the others?"
"They're gone to leuk for you. She's waiting for them to come pack."
"Have they got Skeny with them? He ought to have scented me out, so
that they could have shot the bears."
"Skeny? Na; she tidn't see the tog."
Steve started.
"Why, Watty, I don't remember seeing him when we turned back with the
deer; did you?"
"Na, she tidn't see the tog since she rin after a teer. She wass going
ferry fast, an' she forgot all spout the tog after. She hopes the tog
isna lost."
"No fear! Skeny will find his way back. Oh, how stiff and sore I am!
Hark!"
There was a faint whistle from the distance, and Watty leaped up, and,
thrusting his fingers into his mouth, blew an answer.
A couple of minutes later, as the boys stood watching in the direction
from which the sound had come, they made out three figures on the slope
of the mountain. Then these three figures stopped, and began to wave
their caps, and directly after they broke into a trot, and were soon up
by the fire.
"Steve, lad!" cried Captain Marsham. "Thank God, you are safe!"
"Where have you been, boy?" cried the doctor joyfully, as he wrung the
hand the captain had left at liberty. "Why, you have made me a job.
Get some water, my lad," he continued to Watty, and laying down his gun
he began to take out a pocket-book to get sticking-plaster and scissors.
"I'm very glad, Mr Steve," said Johannes quietly. "We thought you were
lost."
While the doctor washed away the marks left by Steve's fall and
carefully applied sticking-plaster the boy told his adventure, Watty
listening again attentively, and now watching the speaker, now the
mountain-side, in full expectation of seeing the bear make its
appearance from one of the gullies; but there was no interruption, and
they heard all.
"You must not leave your friends again, my lad," said the captain. "We
must all be ready to help each other; co-operation is power. Well, how
do you feel now?"
"So stiff I can hardly move," replied Steve.
"Then we must camp here for a few hours. Fortunately we have a little
of the provisions in our satchels. Where's the rest of the meat, my
lad?"
Watty turned more red than usual. "There isna a pit left, sir. Meester
Stevey ate oop a' there wass left."
"Bravo, Steve, my boy!" cried the doctor merrily. "Any one who can eat
well has not much the matter with him."
"I felt starved when I came back," said Steve, colouring. "I couldn't
help it."
Watty looked horribly guilty; but his was not the nature to make a clean
breast of the matter, and he sat furtively watching the little party as
the provisions were brought out; and free from care now, they all began
to eat.
"Here, Watty," said Steve, as soon as he received a portion, "we must
not forget you."
"Na, sir, she couldna eat a pit," cried the lad truthfully, and it was
only by great persuasion that his modesty was overcome; but certainly he
did not do justice to the biscuits and cheese handed to him, for there
were limits even to his capacity.
Just as they had about finished, a distant barking was heard, and Steve
tried to stand up, but sank back with a groan.
"Skeny!" he cried. "Oh, I say, I am stiff!"
"The dog! Ah, where has he been all this time?"
"She went off efter the teer, and tidna come pack."
"Not after deer now, gentlemen," cried Johannes, snatching up his spear.
"Quick! your guns."
The weapons were seized, and all now caught sight of that which had
attracted the Norseman's attention; for a huge bear was seen coming down
from a ravine, followed by the dog, which kept on snapping savagely at
the beast's heels, and then as the bear turned bounded out of its reach.
But the bear did not appear disposed to follow the dog, acting directly
after as if it had some object in view, for it turned again, placed its
nose close to the ground, and came on toward the little open camp.
"That's my big bear!" said Steve excitedly. "How do you know?" said the
captain, altering the cartridge in one of his barrels for a bullet.
"Because I came down from the mountain that way; and look, he's smelling
my footsteps."
"Yes, that is right, gentlemen. The brute will be here soon. Shall we
meet him here, or get among the rocks?"
"What do you say?" cried the captain. "Here, sir, now that we are not
out of breath. If we climb, our hands will tremble."
"But I've no gun," said Steve.
"And you are not fit to use one, so leave it to us, my boy. Will it
come on when it sees us, Johannes?"
"Yes, sir, I think so. These beasts are very fierce, and they have had
so little to do with man, that they do not avoid him. We must be very
steady and stand firm. I'll attack first from the right."
"What, with the spear?" cried Captain Marsham. "No!"
"It would be better, sir," said the Norseman respectfully. "These
animals move rather slowly. It will turn to attack me savagely; and as
I try to keep it off with the spear, it will be side on to you, and give
you both good shots at the shoulder. Don't aim at the head until it is
down."
"You are right," said the captain. "Do as you say, but take care of
yourself."
"I leave that to you, gentlemen," said the man, smiling. "You will have
to shoot the brute while I hold its attention."
There was no more time for conversation, for the bear was coming
steadily on, checked by the dog from time to time, the former action
being repeated again and again, and Skene's activity enabling him to
leap away from the savage blows directed at him by the bear.
"Cartridges all right, Handscombe?" cried the captain sharply.
"Yes; both fresh."
"Mind not to hit the dog."
The doctor nodded, and Steve stood with his heart beating, wishing that
he had the gun far away now upon the sledge, though he was fain to
believe that his hands shook, so that he could not have shot straight.
He had to join with Watty in occupying the position of spectators, and
he was watching the bear come on, still without appearing to realise
their presence, when the captain said:
"I don't think we shall have any difficulty with the brute; but you lads
must be ready to take to the rocks if we do. He might charge by us."
"Just a few yards forward, sir," said Johannes; "the ground is more
level."
They moved away from where the boys were standing to a spot free from
fallen rocks; and Steve's heart beat more heavily, as he felt how brave
it seemed to be to step forward to the attack of so fierce a beast--one
which, by a single stroke of the paw, could sweep away those strong men;
and as the bear came on, once more he saw himself breathless and
exhausted, climbing up and up the snowy slope towering above where he
now stood, with the savage beast close at his heels, merciless and
untiring, and so determined that it had gone on tracking him ever since
his escape. All this robbed him of any feeling of commiseration for the
ferocious creature, and he hoped fervently that it was coming on surely
to its fate.
"She'll come an' climb oop amang the rocks?" whispered Watty just then.
"No, no; stop here," said Steve hoarsely.
"She'll pe safer," whispered Watty.
"Be quiet and look on," replied Steve angrily.
"She'll pe kilt," groaned the lad; but he was silent afterwards, and as
much interested in the scene before him as his companion.
And all the while the snapping, growling, and turning went on while the
bear approached nearer and nearer, still without seeing those who waited
for it with their deadly weapons poised. It seemed at first that in its
heavy way the animal would have come close up; but at last, when it was
not more than fifty yards distant, Skene made a sharper charge than
ever, as if delighted that his master and friends should see his
prowess, charging so close home that he seized the long hair upon the
bear's leg, gave it a shake, and narrowly escaped the claws which were
dashed savagely at it.
But Skene was nimble, and now he darted forward to where his friends
were, barking loudly, as much as to say, "Here he is; look out!" and
then dashed back again.
But the bear had followed the dog with its eyes, and now, forsaking the
scent it had been running down, it swung its head from side to side so
as to get each eye to bear well in turn upon its enemies, quite ignoring
the dog when he dashed back barking furiously.
"Call the dog, and keep him with you, Steve," said the captain loudly,
but without turning; and in obedience to the summons Skene returned to
his master, and stayed there, held by the long hair of his neck,
trembling with excitement.
There was a low, deep growl now, and the bear stopped, facing them, as
if undecided whom first to attack; and then it came on again growling,
with its mind still not made up.
These were the most exciting moments, for all felt that the beast might
charge in a way which gave no good opportunity for a deadly shot.
It was very close now, and its eyes flashed in the sunshine as it swung
its head about with its muzzle close down to the ground, though it was
not scenting its way now, but carefully watching its enemies.
Skene uttered an excited yelp just then, and recognising in it the
little foe which had so pertinaciously hung on to it for some time past,
the bear now uttered a growl, and turned toward where Steve stood with
the dog.
"Rin, Meester Stevey, rin!" cried Watty, setting the example; "she's
coming here."
But the bear soon changed its tactics, for Johannes took a few steps
forward and made a thrust at the animal with his lance.
The great brute uttered a furious roar, swung round, struck at the lance
shaft, and rose up upon its hind legs to seize the aggressor.
It was a dangerous position for the Norseman, for could the bear get one
blow at him with its great hook-armed paw, his chances of being
extricated alive were doubtful. But he stood firm, for he had perfect
confidence in the captain, and knew that he would seize this opportunity
to fire. He was quite right. The captain drew trigger, there was the
sharp, loud crack of the rifle, and almost simultaneously the thud of
the bullet.
The bear uttered a furious roar, and swung round to meet the enemy who
had struck it that terrible blow on its shoulder. This brought it into
an inconvenient position for the doctor to get his shot, for the animal
was now face on to them; but it gave Johannes his chance, of which he
was not long in availing himself, for he rushed in and gave the monster
a terrible thrust with the lance.
The next instant the bear had swung round, snapping the shaft in two
like a straw, and made for Johannes with a roar, when, just as it was on
the point of overtaking the now unarmed man, crack went the captain's
rifle again, but without checking the monster in the least, and
Johannes' fate seemed sealed, when, with a sharp hiss, Steve loosed the
dog.
"At him, Skeny! css!"
The dog dashed at the bear with a furious burst of barks, and fixed his
teeth in the monster's hind leg, so diverting its attention that it
stopped to strike at the new enemy.
It was a fatal moment for the bear, but it gave the Norseman an
opportunity to escape. For, as the brute stopped to turn on Skene, the
doctor now had his chance, and fired, from not ten yards' distance, two
shots right in the shoulder, and with an aim that told well of his
knowledge of anatomy, for the bear stopped, rose up, and struck at the
air with its paws as if imagining its enemy was within reach, and then,
as it towered up far higher than a tall man, tottered for a moment or
two, and fell over backward--dead.
"Well done, Handscombe!" cried Captain Marsham warmly. "But, Johannes,
my good fellow, you were too daring; you ought not to have run so great
a risk."
"I am not hurt, sir," said the Norseman, smiling gravely; "and it gave
you the chance to fire."
"Yes; but suppose I had not been there to fire?" cried the captain.
"Ah, that would have been different, sir. Then I should not have been
there to break my lance in the bear's chest."
Johannes smiled as he approached the bear more closely to extricate his
spear.
"Mind!" cried Steve. "Perhaps he is not quite dead."
"There is no fear, sir," replied the man; and, seizing the broken shaft,
he dragged the head out of the bear's body, and then took out his knife.
"What are you going to do?" said Steve.
"Skin it, sir," replied the man, looking surprised that such a question
should be asked.
"But suppose its mate comes?"
Johannes paused, and looked dubious.
"Ah!" he said, "then we should have to fight the mate."
"No more fighting this time," said the captain. "And Steve is quite
right; the other bear may come in search of its companion. We must not
attempt to camp here."
"I should say not," cried the doctor, "if we are likely to have another
bear visitor."
"Do you think you can walk a few miles, Steve?" asked the doctor.
"Yes, if you will go slowly," replied the boy. "I'm very stiff now, but
I shall get better as we go on."
And risking the destruction and loss of the skin, they started at once
for the boat, to reach it after what to Steve was a long and painful
walk.
That night he slept so soundly that ten hours had passed before he made
his appearance in the cabin, a good deal scratched and otherwise marked,
but little the worse for his adventure.