One afternoon, not very long after our arrival at Lake Wichikagan,
Lumley and I found ourselves on the summit of a rising ground which was
scantily clothed with trees, and from the top of which we could see the
region all round like a map spread at our feet. We were out after a
black bear whose footprints had led us to the spot.
"Bruin has escaped us this time," said Lumley, "and I don't feel
disposed to go after him any further. You see, Max, I must be up early
to-morrow to superintend Coppet at his water-mill, so I would advise
resting here a bit to refresh ourselves at this spring, and then make
tracks for home."
He descended as he spoke towards a small basin in the rocks, into which
fell a rivulet formed by the spring referred to, and flung himself down
beside it. Seating myself at his side I said:--
"Coppet needs superintendence, I suspect, for although he is an
excellent carpenter and reliable workman, I'm not sure that he
understands complicated or large works--except, indeed, the building of
houses; but then he has been taught that since he was a boy."
"That's just it, Max," returned Lumley, filling the hollow of his hand
with clear water for want of a better drinking-cup, "he can do anything
which he has been taught, but I find that he cannot originate, and
suspect that he has not a very deep knowledge of the strength of
materials or the power of forces. The worst of it is that neither you
nor I are very profound in such matters. However, we must do our best
and make everything ten times stronger than there is any occasion for,
and thus make up for the lack of engineering knowledge."
"Shall you want my help to-morrow earlier than usual?" I asked.
"No--not till after breakfast."
"Well then, as there is no necessity for my going to bed before my
ordinary time, I'll let you return alone, for I don't feel at all
disposed to give up this bear after tracking him so many hours. He's
only a small one, to judge from his footprints, and I am a pretty sure
shot, you know."
"Be it so, Max--but don't be late, else I'll have to send men to look
for you!"
Lumley got up and left me--making a straight line for Fort Wichikagan,
as we had named our outpost, and leaving me in a dreamy state of mind
beside the spring.
It was a delightful afternoon in that most charming period of the
American season which is styled the Indian summer; when mosquitoes,
sand-flies, and all other insect-tormentors disappear, and the weather
seems to take a last enjoyable fortnight of sunny repose before breaking
into winter.
I fell into a pleasant reverie. The backwoods of the Great Nor'-west
vanished from my mental view, and, with eyes half closed, I indulged in
memories of home and all its sweet associations.
Bethinking me suddenly of my reason for remaining where I was, I sprang
up, seized my gun, and began to follow the trail of the bear. Before
descending from the eminence, however, I took a look round the
landscape, and saw the figure of an Indian woman in the distance,
proceeding towards our fort. Although too far-off to be distinguished
by feature, I could clearly perceive the light-blue cotton kerchief
which formed part of the dress of Waboose.
At once my interest in the bear vanished, and I began to follow the
Indian girl instead. I had not seen her since the evening of our
arrival at the lake, and I felt a strong desire to make further
inquiries as to the circumstances of her father's life among the Indians
and his unfortunate death.
Waboose had not seen me. By making a wide and rapid detour I got in
front of her and sat down on a fallen tree at a spot where she was sure
to pass.
As she drew near, I could not fail to observe how graceful her port was,
and how different from that of the other girls with whom her lot had
been cast.
"Assuredly," muttered I to myself, "her father was a gentleman!"
Leaving my gun on the bank on which I had been seated, I advanced to
meet her. She showed a very slight symptom of surprise, and, I thought,
of uneasiness, on seeing me, but made no remark until I had spoken. At
first I was about to adopt the Indian style of address, and begin with
"my red sister," but the phrase, besides being false, appeared to me
ridiculous; still, the ice had to be broken somehow, so I made a
bungling plunge.
"Blue-eyes wanders far to-day from the wigwams of her--her--people?"
A gleam of surprise mingled with pleasure rippled over her pretty face
when she found that I could speak to her in the native tongue.
"Yes," she replied in the same language. "I have wandered far. I was
the bearer of a message."
As she volunteered no more I continued:
"If Waboose goes to her wigwam, will she object to the pale-face bearing
her company?"
With something like a graceful inclination of the head, the Indian girl
gave me to understand that she had no objection.
"An _Indian_!" thought I, "she's a _lady_ in disguise, as sure as I am a
fur-trader!"
Of course I was careful not to give her, either by tone or look, the
slightest hint of what was passing in my mind, and was about to continue
my remarks, when a rustling in the bushes caused us both to look round
quickly. The foliage parted next moment close to us, and before I had
time to think a large brown bear bounded into the open space. It seemed
to be taken as much by surprise as we were, and I have no doubt would
have turned and fled if it had not been so near. It rose on its hind
legs, however, to attack us, and then I perceived that it was not the
small bear which Lumley and I had been tracking.
The blood rushed to my head when I remembered that the monster stood
between me and the bank on which my gun was lying! Then the feeling
that the helpless Indian girl was at its mercy filled me with feelings
which are indescribable. Thought is swifter than the lightning-flash.
Much more than I have written flashed through my brain during those two
or three seconds, but one overmastering idea filled me--I would save
_her_, or perish!
I glanced sharply round. To my surprise she had fled! So much the
better. I could at least keep the creature engaged till she had got
well away.
Drawing the small hatchet which like all Nor'westers I carried in my
belt, I rushed at the bear and made a cut at its head with all the force
that lay in my arm. Where the blow fell I know not, but apparently it
was ineffective, for, with a quick vicious turn of its paw, the bear
struck my weapon from my hand with such violence that it flew over the
tree-tops as if shot from a catapult, and I stood unarmed--helpless--at
the creature's mercy!
The terrible feeling that death was so near almost unnerved me, but the
thought of Waboose caused me to utter a roar of mingled rage and despair
as I doubled my fist and launched it full against the monster's nose!
At that moment a loud report at my ear deafened and almost stunned me.
Next instant the bear lay dead at my feet. I looked round and beheld
Waboose standing close to me with my gun in her hands!
"Noble heroine!" I exclaimed, but as I exclaimed it in English she did
not understand. She had, indeed, a very slight smattering of that
language--of which more hereafter--but "Noble heroine" was not at that
time in her vocabulary!
Instead of trembling or looking pale, as I might have expected to see
her, Waboose looked at me in the most composed manner, and with
something on her lip that seemed to me like a smile of amusement. In
some confusion, I thanked her for having saved my life.
She did not object to the thanks, but replied by asking me if it was the
usual practice of white men to attack bears with their fists.