THE ABANDONED CITY
It was too late for our heroes and their friends to escape giving
battle to the bears. They could not steer the sleds clear of the
monsters, nor could they retreat. There were enough of the savage
beasts in the rear to make this last impossible.
"Come ahead!" yelled Andy Sudds to Phineas Roebach, who guided the
second sled. "Don't stop."
Jack and Mark, with the old hunter, were on the first sled. They were
armed with magazine rifles, and all seized these and prepared to fight
for their lives.
Andy jammed the sweep with which he had been steering between his knee
and the stake at the rear of the sledge, and put his gun to his
shoulder.
"Shoot into the nearest bears, boys," he commanded. "You both take
that big fellow right ahead. Get him down and I'll try to pepper those
on either side."
But the bears were all shuffling across the ice to get at the sailing
sleds. They were fast bunching immediately in the front of their human
enemies.
Jack and Mark obeyed the old hunter's order. They poured their fire
into the huge, shaggy beast that rose on its hind legs before the sled,
and roaring, spread its huge paws abroad ready to seize it and its
human burden.
Fortunately the wind had suddenly increased as the sleds rounded the
wooded point. They were traveling faster. The lead pumped from the
rifles of the two boys spattered against the breast of the great
grizzly, and stained its coat crimson in great blotches. But he stood,
roaring in rage and pain, until the sled was right upon him.
Jack and Mark were forward of the sail, which was hoisted amidships.
The sled was surrounded by the savage beasts, and when it struck the
tottering brute that alone stood in its direct path, there seemed to
be at least half a dozen of the bears on either side, rising on their
haunches in preparation to strike.
The collision almost overbalanced the sled. It certainly overbalanced
the bear, that had been hit by eight bullets from the rifles of Jack
and Mark. And the huge body, lying right across the path of the sledge,
halted it.
"Swing your guns, boys!" bawled Andy. "Jack to the left, Mark to the
right hand."
Our heroes understood this command. They had been in tight places
before with the old hunter, and now they partook of his enthusiasm.
The rifles spattered the lead among the nearest bears. Some of the
creatures fell back wounded. Some were merely enraged the more and,
roaring their wrath, continued to advance.
Meanwhile the old hunter had seized the steering sweep and endeavored
to turn the sled aside. It had rebounded from the heavy carcass of the
bear which had dropped upon the ice before it. Now Andy tried to work
the sled around this obstruction.
The second sled came; on, the professor relieving Roebach at the helm,
and the oil man and Washington White pouring in volley after volley
at the bears. The black man was a good shot and in the excitement of
the battle he forgot to be terrified. His bullets told as well as did
those from the rifle of Phineas Roebach.
And fortunately the aged scientist brought this second sled safely
through the line of bears. The first sled took the brunt of the battle.
When that on which the professor sailed was a hundred yards beyond the
herd of Kodiaks, he swerved it into the eye of the wind and so brought
it to a halt without lowering the blanket that served as a sail. "Come
on back and help' em!" cried Phineas Roebach, leaping out upon the ice.
He started back toward the fight, firing as he went. Wash followed
more cautiously; and when one wounded beast started on a lumbering
gallop in his direction, the colored man uttered a frightened shriek
and legged it back to the professor.
Fortunately just about then the sled on which the boys and old Andy
fought, came through the ruck of the struggle. Andy hacked with a
hatchet the paws from the last Kodiak that tried to seize the sled,
and the two boys continued to pour bullets into the howling, roaring
pack.
They took Phineas aboard the slowly moving sled and so reached the
professor and Wash. Immediately that sled was put in motion and the
party traveled a full mile before they dared halt and take stock of
the damage done.
The bears had given up the pursuit. The ice for yards around had been
crimsoned by the blood of the huge beasts. They could count, even at
that distance, ten dead ones, and many would die of their wounds.
"And we didn't get even a slice of bear steak to pay us for it all!"
groaned Jack.
"Wrong," returned Andy Sudds, proudly, and he held up the two paws he
had severed from the last brute. "Those will give us all a taste of
fricassee--and that same dish will be a welcome one, I declare."
They were not again molested by bears; but looking back when they had
traveled on some distance farther (the river being straight in this
place) they saw a huge pack of wolves gathering on the ice--more than
two hundred at least of the savage brutes--and believed that a battle
royal was in progress between the remaining Kodiaks and the wolves.
"I hope they fight like the Kilkenny cats!" declared Jack, with
emphasis, "And I hope the wolves will be kept so busy picking the bones
of the slain that they will follow us no farther. They are like sharks
at sea. I hate the beasts."
The country they passed as they slid down the river remained all but
deserted. The wind rose and wafted them faster and faster on their
way; but it was plainly bringing them a storm, too.
When the sun rose next time it was behind a thick mantle of mist.
Thunder rolled across the heavens and the lightning glared fitfully.
The heat had been unbearable before the storm, and the downpour of
rain was terrific. The party was washed out of its encampment, and had
it not been that Andy discovered shelter for them in a sort of cavern
under a huge boulder, they would all have been saturated.
The storm ended with a sharp fall of hail. Hailstones as big as duck
eggs fell, and the wind blew so that a portion of the river-ice was
broken up. When the storm ceased the sun was only an hour high and it
was already cold.
There being no dry wood now, the party suffered exceedingly before
they were able to set sail again on the re-frozen river. Quite six
hours elapsed after the cessation of the hailstorm until the ice would
again bear.
The wind had then risen to a gale, and once under way, the sleds were
borne on under closely reefed blankets. They traveled down the stream
at a furious pace--at least twenty miles an hour--and arrived within
sight of Nigatuk. But the appearance of this large and lively town (or
so they had been led to expect it to be) was startling.
Not a house was standing. Most of the ruins were blackened by a
devastating fire. And silence brooded over the place--a silence
undisturbed by a human voice, the bark of a dog, or any other domestic
sound.
The delta of the Coleville River hid the ocean beyond. All they could
see were the ice-bound forks of the stream. And no sign of life appeared
in all that vast region to which they had flown for refuge and food.