X-RAY STRAPS ON HIS SNOW-SHOES
Long before evening came around Lub had time to recover from his
excessive labors of the day, so that he was in good trim to start
supper.
"It wasn't so much the strain of fishing, and attending to half a dozen
tip-ups that knocked me out, as that warm little dance the bear led me,
you see, fellows," he explained, when some one chanced to remark that he
got up on his feet as though his knee-joints were stiff and rusty.
"Yes," said Ethan, drily, "this thing of _luring_ is always hard on the
muscles and nerves. Only the most rugged constitutions can stand it."
Lub grinned, but did not pursue the subject any further. He was soon
busily engaged in cooking the fish which had been cleaned and prepared
long before.
Luckily they had two good-sized frying-pans with them; for that was one
of the occasions where they came in handy. Nothing would do but they
must have some bear steak, though Phil warned them they were apt to find
it rather tough. Still, who would have the heart to complain about a
little thing like that, when the game had fallen to their own rifles,
after Lub had gotten in his fine work; certainly none of the Mountain
Boys, who had gone through too many episodes along these lines not to
accept things as they came, with a laugh and a good word.
That was a bounteous feast, and one to be long remembered. The fish
tasted as sweet as shad, and had the same sort of "pitchfork" bones in
them too, which must be watched for, and jealousy guarded against. If
the bear steak was hard to masticate, at the same time it was a camp
dinner, not one served on a damask tablecloth, with cut-glass, and
silver, and napkins to boot!
"Well, it's coming along at last, fellows!" announced X-Ray Tyson, about
the time they had finished their meal.
"What's that you're referring to?" demanded Ethan; while Lub looked
hastily on all sides of him, just as though he half expected to see the
mate of his bear standing there on the border of the camp, and sniffing
at the odor of cooked meat that still hung around the scene.
"Why, don't you see 'em trailing down?" demanded X-Ray, who seemed to be
quite jubilant over something or other.
"He means it's commenced to snow!" said Ethan.
"Just what," the other added, "and if it gets a good move on perhaps
to-morrow will see me gliding along on my snow-shoes that I've owned
nearly a year now, and never had a decent chance to use."
He made a dive over to where the said articles were hanging, and taking
them down proceeded to try them on. The others had seen X-Ray do this so
often that it was no novel sight to them.
Phil, who had had considerable experience with snow-shoes, had shown the
other some little "wrinkles" in connection with fixing the clumsy
contraptions to his feet, so that X-Ray was quite proficient, so far as
that part of it went.
He seemed to fancy that there would be no trouble at all about spinning
along over the country, once he "got the hang of things."
"I'm bound to pull off some stunts while we're up here," he remarked, as
he sat and looked at his prized possessions, now fastened with the
straps to the toes of his shoes, leaving the heels free; "and I only
hope the snow gets knee-deep by morning. I've read about how hunters up
here in Canada chase the moose when a crust forms on the deep snow, and
I want to try it for myself."
"That is reckoned the best time for hunting," Phil explained; "though it
doesn't seem hardly fair to the caribou or the moose. You see, with
their weight and their sharp hoofs they break through the crust at every
jump, and flounder more or less in the drifts; while the hunter on his
broad snow-shoes glides swiftly along, and can easily overtake the
strongest of them."
"How about those moose yards I've read about?" asked Ethan, who though a
descendant of a New England family knew much less about big-game hunting
than did Phil.
"Oh! they are found in New Brunswick, and parts of Canada as well," the
other explained. "When the snow gets very deep, so that the moose find
it hard to move around in the woods, they make their way to some place
previously selected, where they can feed on the tender shoots of certain
trees. There they stay, trampling the snow down constantly, until the
place looks like an enclosure surrounded by walls of snow."
"Then that's how it came to be called a moose yard, I suppose?" ventured
Lub, who was listening to all of this talk, even though he did not
profess to be very fond of hunting.
"Yes," Phil continued; "and there are some hunters so low down in the
scale as real sportsmen that if they ran upon one of these yards they
would take advantage of the opportunity to slaughter every one of the
moose in it, no matter if they numbered ten or a dozen."
"But good gracious! isn't there a law limiting the number of moose any
one person can shoot in a year?" asked Lub.
"Of course there is, and it's generally a single specimen, because moose
are getting more and more scarce every season," said Phil; "but what
does the game law signify to these hogs? So long as they can feel pretty
sure of not being found out there's nothing too mean for them to do."
"What a shame they can't all be arrested, and sent up for a term of
years," Lub remarked, indignantly.
"And don't think for a minute," Ethan broke in with, "that it's the
guides who do things like that. They know better than to kill the goose
that lays the golden egg for them. On the contrary, as a rule it is some
reckless so-called sportsman who allows his primal passion to have full
play when he finds himself up against such a golden opportunity. And I
suppose he even makes his boasts of what great feats he performed when
he finds himself back home with other fellows about the same build as
himself."
The snow was by this time falling heavily. If it kept up at that rate,
by morning it would certainly be measured by a dozen inches. X-Ray was
so tickled he could hardly think of taking his snow-shoes off, but sat
there a long time admiring the bent wood and stretched gut contrivances
which men have used for so many years as a means for getting over the
drifts of these cold countries.
"Looks like you meant to sit up all night, admiring yourself, X-Ray!"
suggested Ethan finally, with a little touch of sarcasm in his voice.
"Better put a chain on him, and make sure he doesn't scoot out in the
night!" Lub sang out.
"That word scoot makes me think of the motorboat we had down there on
old Currituck Sound a while back," chuckled X-Ray, not at all bothered
it seemed by these remarks on the part of his chums; "you remember it
was called the _Skoot_, though for that matter it belied its name, for
it never could go fast."
Soon afterward, however, X-Ray relieved Lub's anxious mind by removing
the snow-shoes, and saying as he did so:
"Guess I can wait till to-morrow for my run; and, Phil, remember, you
gave me your solemn promise to keep me company the first chance that
came along?"
"We'll see," was all Phil would admit.
"Lucky we got our bully little shack all done before this started in,
eh, boys?" remarked Ethan.
"It held off for us, which was a mighty fine thing for the weather to
do," Lub told them, as he changed around in order to get his back warm,
for he was now thinking of turning in.
They had arranged it so that the shack could be closed against the
weather in time of stress. Phil made sure they had an abundance of fuel
handy, for he said they would need it right along. The fire was to be
kept up through the night; for a certain amount of heat might be
expected to enter the lean-to through the opening where the canvas apron
was drawn aside.
The fresh meat was hung from a limb, and high enough from the ground to
prevent any wandering wolf from jumping up and carrying it off. Lub had
been very solicitous about that part of the program, instructing the
others to make sure by actual tests that it was a sufficient distance
from the ground.
"Bear meat is too hard to get," he said, with considerable pride, "to
want to feed it to the sneaking wolves."
Of course the others indulged in another pantomime laugh, as though they
quite enjoyed hearing the peace-loving Lub talk in that strain. It did
them no harm, and seemed to afford Lub more or less pleasure, so none of
them attempted to shatter his dream of conquest by rude remarks.
Although X-Ray Tyson was the one most interested in the snowfall he
never aroused himself enough at any time during the night to crawl out
and take an observation as to the state of the weather.
Phil and Ethan looked after the fire; though on several occasions when
one of them reentered the shack after performing this duty a sleepy
voice would inquire after the weather conditions, and on hearing that
the snow was still falling heavily X-Ray would grunt his usual phrase:
"That's hunky-dory; let her come!"
With the arrival of morning there could no longer be any doubt that
winter had set in for good. A foot of snow on the level, with many
drifts that were several times that deep, told how busy the old man
plucking geese aloft had been while the Mountain Boys slept.
X-Ray was wild with delight.
"At last my day has come around!" he kept repeating over and over; "the
day I've been waiting for so long. When shall we make a start, Phil?"
"Certainly not till after we've had a good hot breakfast, for one
thing," asserted the other; "and if it keeps on falling like it does now
nothing would tempt me to start out for a snow-shoe tramp."
"But it looks to me like the clouds were ready to break over there in
the northwest," urged the eager one.
"Let her break, then," Phil told him; "time enough to talk about going
when we see the sun peeping out. I understand it's no soft snap to get
twisted up in this same Canadian bush, with a blizzard blowing the snow
down, and the cold getting away below zero point."
"Whoo! excuse me if you please," spoke up Lub; "I'll take mine out
alongside this cheery blaze. Somebody has got to eat the drumsticks, my
mother always says; and even in camp there must be a cook."
"And a jolly good one we happen to have along with us!" remarked X-Ray,
generously.
"No taffy, please," warned Lub. "I may take a notion to strike, one of
these days, and then the rest of you would have to throw up heads or
tails to see who takes my place."
"We hope that day will be a long way off," declared the wily Ethan,
"because the chances are we'd have to come to eating that _erbswurst_
just as it is, because no one could do justice to the culinary
department after being spoiled the way we have."
Of course Lub was not so green as to think they meant all they said; yet
at the same time it must have been pleasant for him to know his valiant
efforts over the fire were appreciated by his chums. He worked harder
than ever, and the satisfied smile that spread over his rosy face told
that his thoughts were happy.
After all X-Ray was right about those clouds, although he did not claim
to be a weather prophet, as he had once done. Even as they sat there and
made away with the fine breakfast that had been prepared a bright ray of
sunlight fell aslant the party; and looking out they could see that the
snow had a dazzling appearance.
"Bully for that!" cried X-Ray; "if I didn't have my breakfast in my lap
I'd feel like jumping up and dancing a hornpipe for joy. That means
we'll soon be starting forth on our snow-shoes, eh, Phil?"
"I suppose you'll never give me a minute's peace until I do go out with
you," the other declared, with a laugh; "though it's pretty hard work
paddling around on snow-shoes when there isn't a trace of crust on top
of the fall to hold you up. You see, every step you have to drag a shoe
after you, and when the stuff is soft it means real work."
"Well, you never were known to go back on your word, rain or shine,"
said the other, in a satisfied sort of way, as though he did not mean to
let it worry him in the least.
Half an hour later they were getting in readiness for the start.
"We'll carry our guns of course," said Phil, "for we might run across a
caribou, and just now a little venison in camp wouldn't come in bad. And
make sure to take plenty of ammunition along, for while we may not need
it you never can tell. Likewise some matches besides your usual supply.
I'll put up a snack for our lunch; and besides we can carry some of that
pemmican from the six pound can. Nothing to equal it as a life-saver in
a pinch."
"Whew! to hear you talk," said the astonished Lub, "one would think you
really _expected_ to get lost, and roam through the bush for days before
you struck our own camp again; but of course you don't, Phil?"
"If I did think so I'd hesitate about going out," the other told him.
"In doing what I am, Lub, I'm only taking out an insurance policy. No
man expects a fire is really going to come and eat up his house; it's
the last thing he looks for; and yet all the same he wants his mind to
be at ease. If it should hit him he is in a condition to rebuild again.
Well, chances are ten to one we'll bring this condensed food back with
us; but in case we _do_ need it we'll be mighty glad we have it along.
And that's the right kind of policy to follow when you're off in the
bush; for it is often the unexpected that happens."
Presently they had looked after every minute detail that could be
thought of; and as X-Ray was very impatient to be off Phil did not have
the heart to delay any longer.
"Here we go to hit the snow-shoe trail!" sang out the exultant X-Ray;
and then he found it necessary to go through some violent contortions of
the body in order to keep himself from tripping over his own feet,
encumbered as they were with such unaccustomed appendages.
Phil had given him a staff, however, which he was expected to use in
case of any need; and this prevented him from falling.
A minute later, and waving good-by to the others the two started forth.