"My companion was an old hunter, and by right should have carried the gun; but it was arranged differently, out of compliment to me—the stranger, he held in one hand the huge frying-pan, while in a bag over his shoulder was a bushel or more of dry pine-knots.

"On arriving at the place where it was expected deer would be found, we set fire to our torch, and in a few moments the blaze threw its glaring circle around us, painting with vermilion tints the trunks of the great trees.

"In this way we proceeded onward, advancing slowly, and with as little noise as possible. We talked only in whispers, keeping our eyes turned upon all sides at once. But we walked and walked, up hill and down hill, for, I should say, ten miles at the least; and not a single pair of bright orbs answered to our luminary. Not a deer's eye reflected the blaze of our torch.

"We had kept the fire replenished and burning vividly to no purpose, until hardly a knot remained in the bag.

"I had grown quite tired in this fruitless search. So had my companion, and both of us felt chagrin and disappointment. We felt this the more keenly as there had been a 'supper-wager' laid between us and our friends, as to what party would kill the greatest number of deer, and we fancied once or twice that we heard shots far off in the direction the others had gone. We were likely to come back empty-handed, while they, no doubt, would bring a deer each, perhaps more.

"We were returning towards the point from which we had started, both of us in a most unamiable mood, when all at once an object right before us attracted my attention, and brought me to a sudden halt. I did not wait to ask any questions. A pair of small round circles glistened in the darkness like two little discs of fire. Of course they were eyes. Of course, they were the eyes of a deer.

"I could see no body, for the two luminous objects shone as if set in a ground of ebony. But I did not stay to scan in what they were set. My piece was up. I glanced hastily along the barrel. I sighted between the eyes. I pulled the trigger. I fired.

"As I did so, I fancied that I heard my companion shouting to me, but the report hindered me from hearing what he said.

"When the echoes died away, however, his voice reached me, in a full, clear tone, pronouncing these words:—

"'Tarnation, doctor! You've shot Squire Robbins's bull!'

"At the same time the bellowing of the bull, mingling with his own loud laugh, convinced me that the hunter had spoken the truth.

"He was a good old fellow, and promised to keep dark; but it was necessary to make all right with 'Squire Robbins.' So the affair soon got wind, and my torch-hunt became, for a time, the standing joke of the settlement."



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

DEER HUNT IN A "DUG-OUT."

As we were now approaching the regions where the common fallow deer ceased to be met with, and where its place is supplied by two other species, these last became the subject of our talk. The species referred to are the "black-tails," and "long-tails" (Cervus macrotis and leucurus).

Ike and Redwood were well acquainted with both kinds, as they had often trapped beaver in the countries where these deer are found; and they gave us a very good account of the habits of these animals, which showed that both species were in many respects similar to the Cervus Virginianus. Their form, however, as well as their size, colour, and markings, leave no doubt of their being specifically distinct not only from the latter, but from each other. Indeed, there are two varieties of the black-tails, differing in some respects, although both have the dark hair upon the tail, and the long ears, which so much distinguish them from other deer. The great length of their ears gives to their heads something of a "mulish" look—hence they are often known among the trappers by the name of "mule deer." Ike and Redwood spoke of them by this name, although they also knew them as "black-tails," and this last is the designation most generally used. They receive it on account of the colour of the hair upon the upper side of their tail-tips, which is of a jetty blackness, and is very full and conspicuous.

The two species have been often confounded with each other, though in many respects they are totally unlike. The black-tails are larger, their legs shorter and their bodies more "chunky," and altogether of stouter build. In running, they bound with all their feet raised at once; while those of the long-tailed species run more like the common fallow deer—by trotting a few steps, then giving a bound, and trotting as before.

The ears of the black-tails stand up full half the height of their antlers, and their hair, of a reddish-brown colour, is coarser than the hair of the Cervus Virginianus, and more like the coat of the elk (Cervus Canadensis). Their hoofs, too, are shorter and wider, and in this respect there is also a similarity to the elk. The flesh of the black-tails is inferior to that of the fallow deer, while the long-tailed kind produces a venison very similar to the latter.

Both species inhabit woodlands occasionally, but their favourite habitat is the prairie, or that species of undulating country where prairie and forest alternate, forming a succession of groves and openings. Both are found only in the western half of the continent— that is, in the wild regions extending from the Mississippi to the Pacific. In longitude, as far east as the Mississippi, they are rarely seen; but as you travel westward, either approaching the Rocky Mountains, or beyond these to the shores of the Pacific, they are the common deer of the country. The black-tailed kind is more southern in its range. It is found in the Californias, and the valleys of the Rocky Mountains, as far south as Texas; while to the north it is met with in Oregon, and on the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains, as high as the fifty-fourth parallel. The long-tailed species is the most common deer of Oregon and the Columbia River, and its range also extends east of the Rocky Mountains, though not so far as the longitude of the Mississippi.

The hunter-naturalist, who had some years before made a journey to Oregon, and of course had become well acquainted with the habits of the Cervus leucurus, gave us a full account of them, and related a stirring adventure that had befallen him while hunting "long-tails" upon the Columbia.

"The long-tailed deer," began he, "is one of the smallest of the deer kind. Its weight rarely exceeds 100 pounds. It resembles in form and habits the common fallow deer, the chief distinction being the tail, which is a very conspicuous object. This appendage is often found to measure eighteen inches in length!

"While running, the tail is held erect, and kept constantly switching from side to side, so as to produce a singular and somewhat ludicrous effect upon the mind of the spectator.

"The gait of this animal is also peculiar. It first takes two ambling steps that resemble a trot, after these it makes a long bound, which carries it about twice the distance of the steps, and then it trots again. No matter how closely pursued, it never alters this mode of progression.

"Like the fallow deer, it produces spotted fawns, which are brought forth in the spring, and change their colour to that of the deer itself in the first winter. About the month of November they gather into herds, and remain together until April, when they separate, the females secreting themselves to bring forth their young.

"The long-tailed deer is often found in wooded countries; though its favourite haunts are not amid the heavy timber of the great forests, but in the park-like openings that occur in many parts of the Rocky Mountain valleys.

"Sometimes whole tracts of country are met with in these regions, whose surface exhibits a pleasing variety of woodland and prairie; sloping hills appear with coppices upon their crests and along their sides. Among these natural groves may be seen troops of the long-tailed deer, browsing along the declivities of the hills, and, by their elegant attitudes and graceful movements, adding to the beauty of the landscape.

"Some years ago I had an opportunity of hunting the long-tailed, deer. I was on my way across the Rocky Mountains to Fort Vancouver, when circumstances rendered it necessary that I should stop for some days at a small trading-post on one of the branches of the Columbia. I was, in fact, detained, waiting for a party of fur-traders with whom I was to travel, and who required some time to get their packs in readiness.

"The trading-post was a small place, with miserable accommodations, having scarcely room enough in its two or three wretched log-cabins to lodge half the company that happened at the time to claim its hospitality. As my business was simply to wait for my travelling companions, I was of course ennuye almost to death in such a place. There was nothing to be seen around but packs of beaver, otter, mink, fox, and bear skins; and nothing to be heard but the incessant chattering of Canadian voyageurs, in their mixed jargon of French, English, and Indian. To make matters still more unpleasant, there was very little to eat, and nothing to drink but the clear water of the little mountain-stream upon which the fort was built.

"The surrounding country, however, was beautiful; and the lovely landscapes that on every side met the eye almost compensated for the discomforts of the post. The surface of the country was what is termed rolling—gentle undulations here and there rising into dome-shaped hills of low elevation. These were crowned with copses of shrubby trees, principally of the wild filbert or hazel (corylus), with several species of rosa and raspberry (rubus), and bushes of the june-berry (amelanchier), with their clusters of purplish-red fruit. The openings between were covered with a sward of short gramma grass, and the whole landscape presented the appearance of a cultivated park; so that one involuntarily looked along the undulating outlines of the hills for some noble mansion or lordly castle.

"It is just in such situations that the fallow deer delights to dwell; and these are the favourite haunts of its near congeners, the long-tails. I had ascertained this from the people at the post; and the fact that fresh venison formed our staple and daily food was proof sufficient that some species of deer was to be found in the neighbourhood. I was not long, therefore, after my arrival, in putting myself in train for a hunt.

"Unfortunately, the gentlemen of the company were too busy to go along with me; so also were the numerous engages; and I set out, taking only my servant, a bois brule, or half-breed, who happened, however, to be a good guide for such an expedition, as well as a first-rate hunter.

"Setting out, we kept down the stream for some distance, walking along its bank. We saw numerous deer-tracks in the mud, where the animals had gone to and from the water. These tracks were almost fresh, and many of them, as my servant averred, must have been made the previous night by the animals coming to drink—a common habit with them, especially in hot weather.

"But, strange to say, we walked a mile or more without getting a glimpse of a single deer, or any other sort of animal. I was becoming discouraged, when my man proposed that we should leave the stream, and proceed back among the hills. The deer, he believed, would be found there.

"This was resolved upon; and we accordingly struck out for the high ground. We soon climbed up from the river bottom, and threaded our way amidst the fragrant shrubbery of amelanchiers and wild-roses, cautiously scrutinising every new vista that opened before us.

"We had not gone far before we caught sight of several deer; we could also hear them at intervals, behind the copses that surrounded us, the males uttering a strange whistling sound, similar to that produced by blowing into the barrel of a gun, while this was occasionally replied to by the goat-like bleat of the females.

"Strange to say, however, they were all very shy, and notwithstanding much cautious crouching and creeping among the bushes, we wandered about for nearly two-thirds of the day without getting a shot at any of them.

"What had made them so wary we could not at the time, tell, but we afterwards learned that a large party of Flathead Indians had gone over the ground only a few days before, and had put the deer through a three days chase, from which they had not yet recovered. Indeed, we saw Indian 'sign' all along the route, and at one place came upon the head and horns of a fine buck, which, from some fancy or other of the hunter, had been left suspended from the branch of a tree, and had thus escaped being stripped by the wolves.

"At sight of this trophy, my companion appeared to be in ecstasies. I could not understand what there was in a worthless set of antlers to produce such joyful emotions; but as Blue Dick—such was the soubriquet of my servant—was not much given to idle exhibitions of feeling, I knew there must be something in it.

"'Now, master,' said he, addressing me, 'if I had something else, I could promise you a shot at the long-tails, shy as they are.'

"'Something else! What do you want?' I inquired.

"'Something that ought to grow about yar, else I'm mightily mistaken in the sign. Let me try down yonder,'—and Dick pointed to a piece of low swampy ground that lay to one side of our course.

"I assented, and followed him to the place.

"We had hardly reached the border of the wet ground, when an exclamation from my companion told me that the 'something' he wanted was in sight.

"'Yonder, master; the very weed: see yonder.'

"Dick pointed to a tall herbaceous plant that grew near the edge of the swamp. Its stem was fully eight feet in height, with large lobed leaves, and a wide-spreading umbel of pretty white flowers. I knew the plant well. It was that which is known in some places as master-wort, but more commonly by the name of cow parsnip. Its botanical name is Heracleum lanatum. I knew that its roots possessed stimulant and carminative properties; but that the plant had anything to do with deer-hunting, I was ignorant.

"Dick, however, was better acquainted with its uses in that respect; and his hunter-craft soon manifested itself.

"Drawing his knife from its sheath, he cut one of the joints from the stem of the heracleum, about six inches in length. This he commenced fashioning somewhat after the manner of a penny-trumpet.

"In a few minutes he had whittled it to the proper form and dimensions, after which he put up his knife, and applying the pipe to his lips, blew into it. The sound produced was so exactly like that which I had already heard to proceed from the deer, that I was startled by the resemblance.

"Not having followed his manoeuvres, I fancied for a moment that we had got into close proximity with one of the long-tails. My companion laughed, as he pointed triumphantly to his new made 'call.'

"'Now, master,' said he, 'we'll soon "rub out" one of the long-tail bucks.'

"So saying, he took up the antlers, and desired me to follow him.

"We proceeded as before, walking quickly but cautiously among the thickets, and around their edges. We had gone only a few hundred paces farther, when the hollow whistle of a buck sounded in our ears.

"'Now,' muttered Dick, 'we have him. Squat down, master, under the bush—so.'

"I did as desired, hiding myself under the leafy branches of the wild rose-trees. My companion cowered down beside me in such an attitude that he himself was concealed, while the buck's head and antlers were held above the foliage, and visible from several points where the ground was open.

"As soon as we were fairly placed, Dick applied the call to his lips, and blew his mimic note several times in succession. We heard what appeared to be an echo, but it was the response of a rival; and shortly after we could distinguish a hoof-stroke upon the dry turf, as if some animal was bounding towards us.

"Presently appeared a fine buck, at an opening between two copses, about one hundred paces from the spot where we lay. It had halted, thrown back upon its flanks until its haunches almost touched the ground, while its full large eye glanced over the opening, as if searching for some object.

"At this moment Dick applied the reed to his lips, at the same time moving the horns backward and forward, in imitation of a buck moving his head in a threatening manner.

"The stranger now perceived what appeared to him the branching horns of a rival, hearing, at the same time, the well-known challenge. This was not to be borne, and rising erect on all-fours, with his brow-antlers set forward, he accepted the challenge, and came bounding forward.

"At the distance of twenty paces or so, be again baited, as if still uncertain of the character of his enemy; but that halt was fatal to him, for by Dick's directions I had made ready my rifle, and taking sight at his breast, I pulled trigger. The result was as my companion had predicted, and the buck was 'rubbed out.'

"After skinning our game, and hanging the meat out of reach of the barking wolves, we proceeded as before; and soon after another buck was slain in a manner very similar to that described.

"This ended our day's hunt, as it was late before Dick had bethought him of the decoy; and taking the best parts of both the long-tails upon our shoulders, we trudged homeward to the post.

"Part of our road, as we returned, lay along the stream, and we saw several deer approaching the water, but, cumbered as we were, we failed in getting a shot. An idea, however, was suggested to my companion that promised us plenty of both sport and venison for the next hunt—which was to take place by night.

"This idea he communicated to me for my approval. I readily gave my consent, as I saw in the proposal the chances of enjoying a very rare sport. That sport was to be a fire-hunt; but not as usually practised among backwoodsmen, by carrying a torch through the woods. Our torch was to float upon the water, while we were snugly seated beside it; in other words, we would carry our torch in a canoe, and, floating down stream, would shoot the deer that happened to be upon the banks drinking or cooling their hoofs in the water. I had heard of the plan, but had never practised it, although I was desirous of so doing. Dick had often killed deer in this way, and therefore knew all about it. It was agreed, then, that upon the following night we should try the experiment.

"During the next day, Dick and I proceeded in our preparations without saying anything to any one. It was our design to keep our night-hunt a secret, lest we might be unsuccessful, and get laughed at for our pains. On the other hand, should we succeed in killing a goodly number of long-tails, it would be time enough to let it be known how we had managed matters.

"We had little difficulty in keeping our designs to ourselves. Every one was busy with his own affairs, and took no heed of our manoeuvres.

"Our chief difficulty lay in procuring a boat; but for the consideration of a few loads of powder, we at length borrowed an old canoe that belonged to one of the Flathead Indians—a sort of hanger-on of the post.

"This craft was simply a log of the cotton-wood, rudely hollowed out by means of an axe, and slightly rounded at the ends to produce the canoe-shape. It was that species of water craft popularly known throughout Western America as a 'dug-out,' a phrase which explains itself. It was both old and ricketty, but after a short inspection, Blue Dick declared it would do 'fust-rate.'

"Our next move was to prepare our torch. For this we had to make an excursion to the neighbouring hills, where we found the very material we wanted—the dry knots of the pitch-pine-tree.

"A large segment of birch-bark was then sought for and obtained, and our implements were complete.

"At twilight all was ready, and stepping into our dug-out, we paddled silently down stream.

"As soon as we had got out of the neighbourhood of the post, we lighted our torch. This was placed in a large frying-pan out upon the bow, and was in reality rather a fire of pine-knots than a torch. It blazed up brightly, throwing a glare over the surface of the stream, and reflecting in red light every object upon both banks. We, on the other hand, were completely hidden from view by means of the birch-bark screen, which stood up between us and the torch.

"As soon as we were fairly under way, I yielded up the paddle to Dick, who now assigned to himself the double office of guiding the dug-out and keeping the torch trimmed. I was to look to the shooting; so, placing my trusty rifle across my thighs, I sat alternately scanning both banks as we glided along.

"I shall never forget the romantic effect which was produced upon my mind during that wild excursion. The scenery of the river upon which we had launched our craft was at all times of a picturesque character: under the blaze of the pine-wood—its trees and rocks tinted with a reddish hue, while the rippling flood below ran like molten gold—the effect was heightened to a degree of sublimity which could not have failed to impress the dullest imagination. It was the autumn season, too, and the foliage, which had not yet commenced falling, had assumed those rich varied tints so characteristic of the American sylva— various hues of green and golden, and yellow and deep red were exhibited upon the luxuriant frondage that lined the banks of the stream, and here and there drooped like embroidered curtains down to the water's edge. It was a scene of that wild beauty, that picturesque sublimity, which carries one to the contemplation of its Creator.

"'Yonder!' muttered a voice, that roused me from my reverie. It was Dick who spoke; and in the dark shadow of the birch-bark I could see one of his arms extended, and pointing to the right bank.

"My eyes followed the direction indicated; they soon rested upon two small objects, that from the darker background of the foliage appeared bright and luminous. These objects were round, and close to each other; and at a glance I knew them to be the eyes of some animal, reflecting the light of our torch.

"My companion whispered me that they were the eyes of a deer. I took sight with my rifle, aiming as nearly as I could midway between the luminous spots. I pulled trigger, and my true piece cracked like a whip.

"The report was not loud enough to drown the noises that came back from the shore. There was a rustling of leaves, followed by a plunge, as of some body felling in the water.

"Dick turned the head of the dug-out, and paddled her up to the bank. The torch, blazing brightly, lit up the scene ahead of us, and our eyes were gratified by the sight of a fine buck, that had fallen dead into the river. He was about being drawn into the eddy of the current, but Dick prevented this, and, seizing him by the antlers, soon deposited him safely in the bottom of the dug-out.

"Our craft was once more headed down stream, and we scrutinised every winding of the banks in search of another pair of gleaming eyes. In less than half an hour these appeared, and we succeeded in killing a second long-tail—a doe—and dragged her also into the boat.

"Shortly after, a third was knocked over, which we found standing out in the river upon a small point of sand. This proved to be a young spike-buck, his horns not having as yet branched off into antlers.

"About a quarter of a mile farther down, a fourth, deer was shot at, and missed, the dug-out having grazed suddenly against a rock just as I was pulling trigger, thus rendering my aim unsteady.

"I need hardly say that this sport was extremely exciting; and we had got many miles from the post, without thinking either of the distance or the fact that we should be under the disagreeable necessity of paddling the old Flathead's canoe every inch of the way back again. Down stream it was all plain sailing; and Dick's duty was light enough, as it consisted merely in keeping the dug-out head foremost in the middle of the river. The current ran at the rate of three miles an hour, and therefore drifted us along with sufficient rapidity.

"The first thing that suggested a return to either of us, was the fact that our pine-knots had run out: Dick had just piled the last of them in the frying-pan.

"At this moment, a noise sounded in our ears that caused us some feelings of alarm: it was the noise of falling water. It was not new to us, for, since leaving the post, we had passed the mouths of several small streams that debouched into the one upon which we were, in most cases over a jumble of rocks, thus forming a series of noisy rapids. But that which we now heard was directly ahead of us, and must, thought we, be a rapid or fall of the stream itself; moreover, it sounded louder than any we had hitherto passed.

"We lost little time in conjectures. The first impulse of my companion, upon catching the sound, was to stop the progress of the dug-out, which in a few seconds he succeeded in doing; but by this time our torch had shown us that there was a sharp turning in the river, with a long reach of smooth water below. The cascade, therefore, could not be in our stream, but in some tributary that fell into it near the bend.

"On seeing this, Dick turned his paddle, and permitted the dug-out once more to float with the current.

"The next moment we passed the mouth of a good-sized creek, whose waters, having just leaped a fall of several feet, ran into the river, covered with white froth and bubbles. We could see the fall at a little distance, through the branches of the trees; and as we swept on, its foaming sheet reflected the light of our torch like shining metal.

"We had scarcely passed this point, when my attention was attracted by a pair of fiery orbs that glistened out of some low bushes upon the left bank of the river. I saw that they were the eyes of some animal, but what kind of animal I could not guess. I know they were not the eyes of a deer. Their peculiar scintillation, their lesser size, the wide space between them all convinced me they were not deer's eyes. Moreover, they moved at times, as if the head of the animal was carried about in irregular circles. This is never the case with the eyes of the deer, which either pass hurriedly from point to point, or remain with a fixed and steadfast gaze.

"I knew, therefore, it was no deer; but no matter what—it was some wild creature, and all such are alike the game of the prairie-hunter.

"I took aim, and pulled trigger. While doing so, I heard the voice of my companion warning me, as I thought, not to fire. I wondered at this admonition, but it was then too late to heed it, for it had been uttered almost simultaneously with the report of my rifle.

"I first looked to the bank, to witness the effect of my shot. To my great surprise, the eyes were still there, gleaming from the bushes as brightly as ever.

"Had I missed my aim? It is true, the voice of my companion had somewhat disconcerted me; but I still believed that my bullet must have sped truly, as it had been delivered with a good aim.

"As I turned to Dick for an explanation, a new sound fell upon my ears that explained all, at the same time causing me no slight feeling of alarm. It was a sound not unlike that sometimes uttered by terrified swine, but still louder and more threatening. I knew it well—I knew it was the snort of the grizzly bear!

"Of all American animals, the grizzly bear is the most to be dreaded. Armed or unarmed, man is no match for him, and even the courageous hunter of these parts shuns the encounter. This was why my companion had admonished me not to fire. I thought I had missed: it was not so. My bullet had hit and stung the fierce brute to madness; and a quick cracking among the bushes was immediately followed by a heavy plunge: the bear was in the water!

"'Good heavens, he's after us!' cried Dick in accents of alarm, at the same time propelling the dug-out with all his might.

"It proved true enough that the bear was after us, and the very first plunge had brought his nose almost up to the side of the canoe. However, a few well-directed strokes of the paddle set us in quick motion, and we were soon gliding rapidly down stream, followed by the enraged animal, that every now and then uttered one of his fierce snorts.

"What rendered our situation a terrible one was, that we could not now see the bear, nor tell how far he might be from us. All to the rear of the canoe was of a pitchy darkness, in consequence of the screen of birch-bark. No object could be distinguished in that direction, and it was only by hearing him that we could tell he was still some yards off. The snorts, however, were more or less distinct, as heard amid the varying roar of the waterfall; and sometimes they seemed as if the snout from which they proceeded was close up to our stern.

"We knew that if he once laid his paw upon the canoe, we should either be sunk or compelled to leap out and swim for it. We knew, moreover, that such an event would be certain death to one of us at least.

"I need hardly affirm, that my companion used his paddle with all the energy of despair. I assisted him as much as was in my power with the butt-end of my gun, which was now empty. On account of the hurry and darkness, I had not attempted to re-load it.

"We had shot down stream for a hundred yards or so, and were about congratulating ourselves on the prospect of an escape from the bear, when a new object of dread presented itself to our terrified imaginations. This object was the sound of falling water; but not as before, coming from some tributary stream. No. It was a fall of the river upon which we were floating, and evidently only a very short distance below us!

"We were, in fact, within less than one hundred yards of it. Our excitement, in consequence of being pursued by the bear, as well as the fact that the sough of the cascade above still filled our ears, had prevented us from perceiving this new danger until we had approached it.

"A shout of terror and warning from my companion seemed the echo of one I had myself uttered. Both of us understood the peril of our situation, and both, without speaking another word, set about attempting to stop the boat.

"We paddled with all our strength—he with the oar, whilst I used the flat butt of my rifle. We had succeeded in bringing her to a sort of equilibrium, and were in hopes of being able to force her toward the bank, when all at once we heard a heavy object strike against the stern. At the same moment, the bow rose up into the air, and a number of the burning pine-knots fell back into the bottom of the canoe. They still continued to blaze; and their light now falling towards the stern, showed us a fearful object. The bear had seized hold of the dug-out, and his fierce head and long curving claws were visible over the edge!

"Although the little craft danced about upon the water, and was likely to be turned keel upward, the animal showed no intention of relaxing its hold; but, on the contrary, seemed every moment mounting higher into the canoe.

"Our peril was now extreme. We knew it, and the knowledge half paralysed us.

"Both of us started up, and for some moments half sat, half crouched, uncertain how to act. Should we use the paddles, and get the canoe ashore, it would only be to throw ourselves into the jaws of the bear. On the other hand, we could not remain as we were, for in a few seconds we should be drifted over the falls; and how high these were we knew not. We had never heard of them: they might be fifty feet—they might be a hundred! High enough, they were, no doubt, to precipitate us into eternity.

"The prospect was appalling, and our thoughts ran rapidly. Quick action was required. I could think of no other than to lean sternward, and strike at the bear with my clubbed rifle, at the same time calling upon my companion to paddle for the shore. We preferred, under all circumstances, risking the chances of a land encounter with our grizzly antagonist.

"I had succeeded in keeping the bear out of the canoe by several well-planted blows upon the snout; and Dick was equally successful in forcing the dug-out nearer to the bank, when a sharp crack reached my ears, followed by a terrified cry from my companion.

"I glanced suddenly round, to ascertain the cause of these demonstrations. Dick held in his hands a short round stick, which I recognised as the shaft of the paddle. The blade had snapped off, and was floating away on the surface!

"We were now helpless. The manege of the canoe was no longer possible. Over the falls she must go!

"We thought of leaping out, but it was too late. We were almost upon the edge, and the black current that bore our craft swiftly along would have carried our bodies with like velocity. We could not make a dozen strokes before we should be swept to the brink: it was too late.

"We both saw this; and each knew the feelings of the other, for we felt alike. Neither spoke; but, crouching down and holding the gunwales of the canoe, we awaited the awful moment.

"The bear seemed to have some apprehension as well as ourselves; for, instead of continuing his endeavours to climb into the canoe, he contented himself with holding fast to the stern, evidently under some alarm.

"The torch still blazed, and the canoe was catching fire; perhaps this it was that alarmed the bear.

"The last circumstance gave us at the moment but little concern; the greater danger eclipsed the less. We had hardly noticed it, when we felt that we were going over!

"The canoe shot outward as if propelled by some projectile force; then came a loud crash, as though we had dropped upon a hard rock. Water, and spray, and froth were dashed over our bodies; and the next moment, to our surprise as well as delight, we felt ourselves still alive, and seated in the canoe, which was floating gently in still smooth water.

"It was quite dark, for the torch had been extinguished; but even in the darkness we could perceive the bear swimming and floundering near the boat. To our great satisfaction, we saw him heading for the shore, and widening the distance between himself and us with all the haste he could make. The unexpected precipitation over the falls had cooled his courage, if not his hostility.

"Dick and I headed the canoe, now half full of water, for the opposite bank, which we contrived to reach by using the rifle and our hands for paddles. Here we made the little vessel fast to a tree, intending to leave it there, as we could not by any possibility get it back over the fall. Having hung our game out of reach of the wolves, we turned our faces up-stream, and, after a long and wearisome walk, succeeded in getting back to the post.

"Next morning, a party went down for the venison, with the intention also of carrying the canoe back over the fall. The craft, however, was found to be so much injured, that it would not hang together during the portage, and was therefore abandoned. This was no pleasant matter to me, for it afterwards cost me a considerable sum before I could square with the old Flathead for his worthless dug-out."



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

OLD IKE AND THE GRIZZLY.

A—'s adventure ending in a grizzly bear story, drew the conversation upon that celebrated animal, and we listened to the many curious facts related about it, with more than usual interest.

The grizzly bear (Ursus ferox) is, beyond all question, the most formidable of the wild creatures inhabiting the continent of America— jaguar and cougar not excepted. Did he possess the swiftness of foot of either the lion or tiger of the Old World, he would be an assailant as dangerous as either; for he is endowed with the strength of the former, and quite equals the latter in ferocity. Fortunately, the horse outruns him; were it not so, many a human victim would be his, for he can easily overtake a man on foot. As it is, hundreds of well-authenticated stories attest the prowess of this fierce creature. There is not a "mountain-man" in America who cannot relate a string of perilous adventures about the "grizzly bar;" and the instances are far from being few, in which human life has been sacrificed in conflicts with this savage beast.

The grizzly bear is an animal of large dimensions; specimens have been killed and measured quite equal to the largest size of the polar bear, though there is much variety in the sizes of different individuals. About 500 pounds might be taken as the average weight.

In shape, the grizzly bear is a much more compact animal than either the black or polar species: his ears are larger, his arms stouter, and his aspect fiercer. His teeth are sharp and strong; but that which his enemies most dread is the armature of his paws. The paws themselves are so large, as frequently to leave in the mud a track of twelve inches in length, by eight in breadth; and from the extremities of these formidable fists protrude horn-like claws full six inches long! Of course, we are speaking of individuals of the largest size.

These claws are crescent-shaped, and would be still longer, but in all cases nearly an inch is worn from their points.

The animal digs up the ground in search of marmots, burrowing squirrels, and various esculent roots; and this habit accounts for the blunted condition of his claws. They are sharp enough, notwithstanding, to peel the hide from a horse or buffalo, or to drag the scalp from a hunter—a feat which has been performed by grizzly bears on more than one occasion.

The colour of this animal is most generally brownish, with white hairs intermixed, giving that greyish or grizzled appearance—whence the trivial name, grizzly. But although this is the most common colour of the species, there are many varieties. Some are almost white, others yellowish red, and still others nearly black. The season, too, has much to do with the colour; and the pelage is shaggier and longer than that of the Ursus Americanus. The eyes are small in proportion to the size of the animal, but dark and piercing.

The geographical range of the grizzly bear is extensive. It is well-known that the great chain of the Rocky Mountains commences on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, and runs southwardly through the North-American continent. In those mountains, the grizzly bear is found, from their northern extremity, at least as far as that point where the Rio Grande makes its great bend towards the Gulf of Mexico.

In the United States and Canada, this animal has never been seen in a wild state. This is not strange. The grizzly bear has no affinity with the forest. Previous to the settling of these territories, they were all forest-covered. The grizzly is rarely found under heavy timber, like his congener the black bear; and, unlike the latter, he is not a tree-climber. The black bear "hugs" himself up a tree, and usually destroys his victim by compression. The grizzly does not possess this power, so as to enable him to ascend a tree-trunk; and for such a purpose, his huge dull claws are worse than useless. His favourite haunts are the thickets of Corylus rubus, and Amelanchiers, under the shade of which he makes his lair, and upon the berries of which he partially subsists. He lives much by the banks of streams, hunting among the willows, or wanders along the steep and rugged bluffs, where scrubby pine and dwarf cedar (Juniperus prostrata), with its rooting branches, forms an almost impenetrable underwood. In short, the grizzly bear of America is to be met with in situations very similar to those which are the favourite haunts of the African lion, which, after all, is not so much the king of the forest, as of the mountain and the open plain.

The grizzly bear is omnivorous. Fish, flesh, and fowl are eaten by him apparently with equal relish. He devours frogs, lizards, and other reptiles.

He is fond of the larvae of insects; these are often found in large quantities adhering to the under sides of decayed logs. To get at them, the grizzly bear will roll over logs of such size and weight, as would try the strength of a yoke of oxen.

He can "root" like a hog, and will often plough up acres of prairie in search of the wapatoo and Indian turnip. Like the black bear, he is fond of sweets; and the wild-berries, consisting of many species of currant, gooseberry, and service berry, are greedily gathered into his capacious maw.

He is too slow of foot to overtake either buffalo, elk, or deer, though he sometimes comes upon these creatures unawares; and he will drag the largest buffalo to the earth, if he can only get his claws upon it.

Not unfrequently he robs the panther of his repast, and will drive a whole pack of wolves from the carrion they have just succeeded in killing.

Several attempts have been made to raise the young grizzlies, but these have all been abortive, the animals proving anything but agreeable pets. As soon as grown to a considerable size, their natural ferocity displays itself, and their dangerous qualities usually lead to the necessity for their destruction.

For a long time the great polar bear has been the most celebrated animal of his kind; and most of the bear-adventures have related to him. Many a wondrous tale of his prowess and ferocity has been told by the whaler and arctic voyager, in which this creature figures as the hero. His fame, however, is likely to be eclipsed by his hitherto less-known congener—the grizzly. The golden lure which has drawn half the world to California, has also been the means of bringing this fierce animal more into notice; for the mountain-valleys of the Sierra Nevada are a favourite range of the species. Besides, numerous "bear scrapes" have occurred to the migrating bands who have crossed the great plains and desert tracts that stretch from the Mississippi to the shores of the South Sea. Hundreds of stories of this animal, more or less true, have of late attained circulation through the columns of the press and the pages of the traveller's note-book, until the grizzly bear is becoming almost as much an object of interest as the elephant, the hippopotamus, or the king of beasts himself.

Speaking seriously, he is a dangerous assailant. White hunters never attack him unless when mounted and well armed; and the Indians consider the killing a grizzly bear a feat equal to the scalping of a human foe. These never attempt to hunt him, unless when a large party is together; and the hunt is, among some tribes, preceded by a ceremonious feast and a bear-dance.

It is often the lot of the solitary trapper to meet with this four-footed enemy, and the encounter is rated as equal to that with two hostile Indians.

Of course, both Redwood and old Ike had met with more than one "bar scrape," and the latter was induced to relate one of his best.

"Strengers," began he, "when you scare up a grizzly, take my advice, and gie 'im a wide berth—that is, unless yur unkimmun well mounted. Ov coorse, ef yur critter kin be depended upon, an' thur's no brush to 'tangle him, yur safe enuf; as no grizzly, as ever I seed, kin catch up wi' a hoss, whur the ground's open an' clur. F'r all that, whur the timmer's clost an' brushy, an' the ground o' that sort whur a hoss mout stummel, it are allers the safest plan to let ole Eph'm slide. I've seed a grizzly pull down as good a hoss as ever tracked a parairy, whur the critter hed got bothered in a thicket. The fellur that straddled him only saved himself by hookin' on to the limb o' a tree. 'Twant two minnits afore this child kim up—hearin' the rumpus. I hed good sight o' the bar, an' sent a bullet—sixty to the pound—into the varmint's brain-pan, when he immediately cawalloped over. But 'twur too late to save the hoss. He wur rubbed out. The bar had half skinned him, an' wur tarrin' at his guts! Wagh!"

Here the trapper unsheathed his clasp-knife, and having cut a "chunk" from a plug of real "Jeemes's River," stuck it into his cheek, and proceeded with his narration.

"I reck'n, I've seed a putty consid'able o' the grizzly bar in my time. Ef them thur chaps who writes about all sorts o' varmint hed seed as much o' the grizzly as I hev, they mout a gin a hul book consarnin' the critter. Ef I hed a plug o' bacca for every grizzly I've rubbed out, it 'ud keep my jaws waggin' for a good twel'month, I reck'n. Ye-es, strengers, I've done some bar-killin'—I hev that, an' no mistake! Hain't I, Mark?

"Wal, I wur a-gwine to tell you ov a sarcumstance that happened to this child about two yeern ago. It wur upon the Platte, atween Chimbly Rock an' Laramies'.

"I wur engaged as hunter an' guide to a carryvan o' emigrant folks that wur on thur way to Oregon.

"Ov coorse I allers kept ahead o' the carryvan, an' picked the place for thur camp.

"Wal, one arternoon I hed halted whur I seed some timmer, which ur a scace article about Chimbly Rock. This, thort I, 'll do for campin'-ground; so I got down, pulled the saddle off o' my ole mar, an' staked the critter upon the best patch o' grass that wur near, intendin' she shed hev her gut-full afore the camp cattle kim up to bother her.

"I hed shot a black-tail buck, an' after kindlin' a fire, I roasted a griskin' o' him, an' ate it.

"Still thur wan't no sign o' the carryvan, an' arter hangin' the buck out o' reach o' the wolves, I tuk up my rifle, an' set out to rackynoiter the neighbourhood.

"My mar bein' some'at jaded, I let her graze away, an' went afoot; an' that, let me tell you, strengers, ar about the foolichest thing you kin do upon a parairy. I wan't long afore I proved it; but I'll kum to that by 'm by.

"Wal, I fust clomb a conside'able hill, that gin me a view beyont. Thur war a good-sized parairy layin' torst the south an' west. Thur wur no trees 'ceptin' an odd cotton-wood hyur an' thur on the hillside.

"About a mile off I seed a flock of goats—what you'd call antelopes, though goats they ur, as sure as goats is goats.

"Thur waunt no kiver near them—not a stick, for the parairy wur as bar as yur hand; so I seed, at a glimp, it 'ud be no use a tryin' to approach, unless I tuk some plan to decoy the critters.

"I soon thort o' a dodge, an' went back to camp for my blanket, which wur a red Mackinaw. This I knew 'ud be the very thing to fool the goats with, an' I set out torst them.

"For the fust half-a-mile or so, I carried the blanket under my arm. Then I spread it out, an' walked behind it until I wur 'ithin three or four hundred yards o' the animals. I kept my eye on 'em through a hole in the blanket. They wur a-growin' scary, an' hed begun to run about in circles; so when I seed this, I knew it wur time to stop.

"Wal, I hunkered down, an' still keepin' the blanket spread out afore me, I hung it upon a saplin' that I had brought from the camp. I then stuck the saplin' upright in the ground; an' mind ye, it wan't so easy to do that, for the parairy wur hard friz, an' I hed to dig a hole wi' my knife. Howsomdever, I got the thing rigged at last, an' the blanket hangin' up in front kivered my karkidge most complete. I hed nothin' more to do but wait till the goats shed come 'ithin range o' my shootin'-iron.

"Wal, that wan't long. As ye all know, them goats is a mighty curious animal—as curious as weemen is—an arter runnin' backward an' forrard a bit, an' tossin' up thur heads, an' sniffin' the air, one o' the fattest, a young prong-horn buck, trotted up 'ithin fifty yards o' me.

"I jest squinted through the sights, an' afore that goat hed time to wink twice, I hit him plum atween the eyes. Ov coorse he wur throwed in his tracks.

"Now, you'd a-jumped up, an' frightened the rest away—that's what you'd a done, strengers. But you see I knowd better. I knowd that so long's the critters didn't see my karkidge, they wan't a-gwine to mind the crack o' the gun. So I laid still, in behopes to git a wheen more o' them.

"As I hed calc'lated at fust, they didn't run away, an' I slipped in my charge as brisk as possible. But jest as I wur raisin' to take sight on a doe that hed got near enough, the hull gang tuk scare, an' broke off as ef a pack of parairy-wolves wur arter 'em.

"I wur clean puzzled at this, for I knowd I hedn't done anythin' to frighten 'em, but I wan't long afore I diskivered the pause o' thur alarm. Jest then I heerd a snift, like the coughin' o' a glandered hoss; an' turnin' suddintly round, I spied the biggest bar it hed ever been my luck to set eyes on. He wur comin' direct torst me, an' at that minnit wan't over twenty yards from whur I lay. I knowd at a glimp he wur a grizzly!

"'Tain't no use to say I wan't skeart; I wur skeart, an' mighty bad skeart, I tell ye.

"At fust, I thort o' jumpin' to my feet, an' makin' tracks; but a minnit o' reflexshun showed me that 'ud be o' little use. Thur wur a half o' mile o' clur parairy on every side o' me, an' I knowd the grizzly laid catch up afore I hed made three hundred yards in any direction. I knowd, too, that ef I started, the varmint 'ud be sartin to foller. It wur plain to see the bar meant mischief; I kud tell that from the glint o' his eyes.

"Thur wan't no time to lose in thinkin' about it. The brute wur still comin' nearer; but I noticed that he wur a-gwine slower an' slower, every now an' agin risin' to his hind-feet, clawin' his nose, an' sniffin' the air.

"I seed that it wur the red blanket that puzzled him; an' seein' this, I crep' closter behint it, an' cached as much o' my karkidge as it 'ud kiver.

"When the bar hed got 'ithin about ten yards o' the spot, he kim to a full stop, an' reared up as he hed did several times, with his belly full torst me. The sight wur too much for this niggur, who never afore had been bullied by eyther Injun or bar.

"'Twur a beautiful shot, an' I kudn't help tryin' it, ef 't hed been my last; so I poked my rifle through the hole in the blanket, an' sent a bullet atween the varmint's ribs.

"That wur, perhaps, the foolichest an' wust shot this child ever made. Hed I not fired it, the bar mout a gone off, feard o' the blanket; but I did fire, an' my narves bein' excited, I made a bad shot.

"I had ta'en sight for the heart, an' I only hit the varmint's shoulder.

"Ov coorse, the bar bein' now wounded, bekim savage, and cared no longer for the blanket. He roared out like a bull, tore at the place whur I hed hit him, an' then kim on as fast as his four legs 'ud carry him.

"Things looked squally. I throwed away my emp'y gun, an' drawed my bowie, expectin' nothin' else than a regular stand-up tussle wi' the bar. I knowd it wur no use turnin' tail now; so I braced myself up for a desp'rate fight.

"But jest as the bar hed got 'ithin ten feet o' me, an idee suddintly kim into my head. I hed been to Santa Fe, among them yaller-hided Mexikins, whur I hed seed two or three bull-fights. I hed seed them mattydoors fling thur red cloaks over a bull's head, jest when you'd a thort they wur a-gwine to be gored to pieces on the fierce critter's horns.

"Jest then, I remembered thur trick; an' afore the bar cud close on me, I grabbed the blanket, spreadin' it out as I tuk holt.

"Strangers, that wur a blanket an' no mistake! It wur as fine a five-point Mackinaw as ever kivered the hump-ribs o' a nor'-west trader. I used to wear it Mexikin-fashun when it rained; an' in coorse, for that purpose, thur wur a hole in the middle to pass the head through.

"Wal, jest as the bar sprung at me, I flopped the blanket straight in his face. I seed his snout a passin' through the hole, but I seed no more; for I feeled the critter's claws touchin' me, an' I let go.

"Now, thunk I, wur my time for a run. The blanket mout blin' him a leetle, an' I mout git some start.

"With this thort, I glid past the animal's rump, an' struck out over the parairy.

"The direction happened to be that that led torst the camp, half a mile off; but thur wur a tree nearer, on the side o' the hill. Ef I kud reach that, I knowd I 'ud be safe enuf, as the grizzly bar it don't climb.

"For the fust hundred yards I never looked round; then I only squinted back, runnin' all the while.

"I kud jest see that the bar appeared to be still a tossin' the blanket, and not fur from whur we hed parted kumpny.

"I thort this some'at odd; but I didn't stay to see what it meant till I hed put another hundred yards atween us. Then I half turned, an' tuk a good look; an' if you believe me, strangers, the sight I seed thur 'ud a made a Mormon larf. Although jest one minnit afore, I wur putty nigh skeart out o' my seven senses, that sight made me larf till I wur like to bring on a colic.

"Thur wur the bar wi' his head right a-through the blanket. One minnit, he 'ud rear up on his hind-feet, an' then the thing hung roun' him like a Mexikin greaser. The next minnit, he 'ud be down on all-fours, an' tryin' to foller me; an' then the Mackinaw 'ud trip him up, an' over he 'ud whammel, and kick to get free—all the while routin' like a mad buffalo. Jehosophat! it wur the funniest sight this child ever seed. Wagh!

"Wal, I watched the game awhile—only a leetle while; for I knowd that if the bar could git clur o' the rag, he mout still overtake me, an' drive me to the tree. That I didn't wan't, eyther, so I tuk to my heels agin' and soon reached camp.

"Thur I saddled my mar, an' then rid back to git my gun, an', perhaps, to give ole Eph'm a fresh taste o' lead.

"When I clomb the hill agin, the bar wur still out on the parairy, an' I cud see that the blanket wur a-hanging around 'im. Howsomdever, he wur makin' off torst the hills, thinkin', maybe, he'd hed enuf o' my kumpny.

"I wan't a-gwine to let 'im off so easy, for the skear he hed 'gin me; besides, he wur traillin' my Mackinaw along wi' 'im. So I galluped to whur my gun lay, an' havin' rammed home a ball, I then galluped arter ole grizzly.

"I soon overhauled him, an' he turned on me as savagerous as ever. But this time, feeling secure on the mar's back, my narves wur steadier; an' I shot the bar plum through the skull, which throwed him in his tracks wi' the blanket wropped about 'im.

"But sich a blanket as that wur then—ay, sich a blanket! I never seed sich a blanket! Thur wunt a square foot o' it that wan't torn to raggles. Ah, strangers, you don't know what it are to lose a five-point Mackinaw; no, that you don't. Cuss the bar!"



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

A BATTLE WITH GRIZZLY BEARS.

As adventure with grizzly bears which had befallen the "captain" was next related. He had been travelling with a strange party—the "scalp-hunters,"—in the mountains near Santa Fe, when they were overtaken by a sudden and heavy fall of snow that rendered farther progress impossible. The "canon," a deep valley in which they had encamped, was difficult to get through at any time, but now the path, on account of the deep soft snow, was rendered impassable. When morning broke they found themselves fairly "in the trap."

"Above and below, the valley was choked up with snow five fathoms deep. Vast fissures—barrancas—were filled with the drift; and it was perilous to attempt penetrating in either direction. Two men had already disappeared.

"On each side of our camp rose the walls of the canon, almost vertical, to the height of a hundred feet. These we might have climbed had the weather been soft, for the rock was a trap formation, and offered numerous seams and ledges; but now there was a coating of ice and snow upon them that rendered the ascent impossible. The ground had been frozen hard before the storm came on, although it was now freezing no longer, and the snow would not bear our weight. All our efforts to get out of the valley proved idle; and we gave them over, yielding ourselves, in a kind of reckless despair, to wait for—we scarce knew what.

"For three days we sat shivering around the fires, now and then casting looks of gloomy inquiry around the sky. The same dull grey for an answer, mottled with flakes slanting earthward, for it still continued to know. Not a bright spot cheered the aching eye.

"The little platform on which we rested—a space of two or three acres— was still free from the snow-drift, on account of its exposure to the wind. Straggling pines, stunted and leafless, grew over its surface, in all about fifty or sixty trees. From these we obtained our fires; but what were fires when we had no meat to cook upon them!

"We were now in the third day without food! Without food, though not absolutely without eating—the men had bolted their gun-covers and the cat-skin flaps of their bullet-pouches, and were now seen—the last shift but one—stripping the parfleche from the soles of their moccasins!

"The women, wrapped in their tilmas, nestled closely in the embrace of father, brother, husband, and lover; for all these affections were present. The last string of tasajo, hitherto economised for their sake, had been parcelled out to them in the morning. That was gone, and whence was their next morsel to come? At long intervals, 'Ay da mi! Dios de mi alma!' were heard only in low murmurs, as some colder blast swept down the canon. In the faces of those beautiful creatures might be read that uncomplaining patience—that high endurance—so characteristic of the Hispano-Mexican women.

"Even the stern men around them bore up with less fortitude. Rude oaths were muttered from time to time, and teeth ground together, with that strange wild look that heralds insanity. Once or twice I fancied that I observed a look of still stranger, still wilder expression, when the black ring forms around the eye—when the muscles twitch and quiver along gaunt, famished jaws—when men gaze guilty-like at each other. O God! it was fearful! The half-robber discipline, voluntary at the best, had vanished under the levelling-rod of a common suffering, and I trembled to think—

"'It clars a leetle, out tharawa!'

"It was the voice of the trapper, Garey, who had risen and stood pointing toward the East.

"In an instant we were all upon our feet, looking in the direction, indicated. Sure enough, there was a break in the lead-coloured sky—a yellowish streak, that widened out as we continued gazing—the flakes fell lighter and thinner, and in two hours more it had ceased snowing altogether.

"Half-a-dozen of us, shouldering our rifles, struck down the valley. We would make one more attempt to trample a road through the drift. It was a vain one. The snow was over our heads, and after struggling for two hours, we had not gained above two hundred yards. Here we caught a glimpse of what lay before us. As far as the eye could reach, it rested upon the same deep impassable masses. Despair and hunger paralysed our exertions, and, dropping off one by one, we returned to the camp. We fell down around the fires in sullen silence. Garey continued pacing back and forth, now glancing up at the sky, and at times kneeling down, and running his hand over the surface of the snow. At length he approached the fire, and in his slow, drawling manner, remarked—

"'It's a-gwine to friz, I reckin.'

"'Well! and if it does?' asked one of his comrades, without caring for an answer to the question.

"'Wal, an iv it does,' repeated the trapper, 'we'll walk out o' this hyar jug afore sun-up, an' upon a good hard trail too.'

"The expression of every face was changed, as if by magic. Several leaped to their feet. Gode, the Canadian, skilled in snow-craft, ran to a bank, and drawing his hand along the combing, shouted back—

"'C'est vrai; il gele; il gele!'

"A cold wind soon after set in, and, cheered by the brightening prospect, we began to think of the fires, that, during our late moments of reckless indifference, had been almost suffered to burn out. The Delawares, seizing their tomahawks, commenced hacking at the pines, while others dragged forward the fallen trees, lopping off their branches with the keen scalping-knife.

"At this moment a peculiar cry attracted our attention, and, looking around, we perceived one of the Indians drop suddenly upon his knees, striking the ground with his hatchet.

"'What is it? what is it?' shouted several voices, in almost as many languages.

"'Yam-yam! yam-yam!' replied the Indian, still digging at the frozen ground.

"'The Injun's right; it's man-root!' said Garey, picking up some leaves which the Delaware had chopped off.

"I recognised a plant well-known to the mountain-men—a rare, but wonderful convolvulus, the Iponea leptophylla. The name of 'man-root' is given to it by the hunters from the similarity of its root in shape, and sometimes in size, to the body of a man. It is esculent, and serves to sustain human life.

"In an instant, half-a-dozen men were upon their knees, chipping and hacking the hard clay, but their hatchets glinted off as from the surface of a rock.

"'Look hyar!' cried Garey; 'ye're only spoilin' yer tools. Cut down a wheen o' these pine saplin's, and make a fire over him!'

"The hint was instantly followed, and in a few minutes a dozen pieces of pine were piled upon the spot, and set on fire.

"We stood around the burning branches with eager anticipation. Should the root prove a 'full-grown man,' it would make a supper for our whole party; and with the cheering idea of supper, jokes were ventured upon— the first we had heard for some time—the hunters tickled with the novelty of unearthing the 'old man' ready roasted, and speculating whether he would prove a 'fat old hoss.'

"A hollow crack sounded from above, like the breaking of a dead tree. We looked up. A large object—an animal—was whirling outward and downward from a ledge that projected half-way up the cliff. In an instant it struck the earth, head foremost, with a loud 'bump,' and, bounding to the height of several feet, came back with a somersault on its legs, and stood firmly.

"An involuntary 'hurrah!' broke from the hunters, who all recognised, at a glance, the 'Carnero cimmaron,' or 'bighorn.' He had cleared the precipice at two leaps, alighting each time on his huge crescent-shaped horns.

"For a moment, both parties—hunters and game—seemed equally taken by surprise, and stood eyeing each other in mute wonder. It was but for a moment. The men made a rush for their rifles, and the animal, recovering from his trance of astonishment, tossed back his horns, and bounded across the platform. In a dozen springs he had readied the selvedge of the snow, and plunged into its yielding bank; but, at the same instant, several rifles cracked, and the white wreath was crimsoned behind him. He still kept on, however, leaning and breaking through the drift.

"We struck into his track, and followed with the eagerness of hungry wolves. We could tell by the numerous gouts that he was shedding his life-blood, and about fifty paces farther on we found him dead.

"A shout apprised our companions of our success, and we had commenced dragging back the prize, when wild cries reached us from the platform,— the yells of men, the screams of women, mingled with oaths and exclamations of terror!

"We ran on towards the entrance of the track. On reaching it, a sight was before us that caused the stoutest to tremble. Hunters, Indians, and women were running to and fro in frantic confusion, uttering their varied cries, and pointing upward. We looked in that direction—a row of fearful objects stood upon the brow of the cliff. We knew our enemy at a glance,—the dreaded monsters of the mountains—the grizzly bears!

"There were; five of them—five in sight—there might be others in the background. Five were enough to destroy our whole party, caged as we were, and weakened by famine.

"They had reached the cliff in chase of the cimmaron, and hunger and disappointment were visible in their horrid aspects. Two of them had already crawled close to the scarp, and were pawing over and snuffing the air, as if searching for a place to descend. The other three reared themselves up on their hams, and commenced manoeuvring with their forearms, in a human-like and comical pantomime!

"We were in no condition to relish this amusement. Every man hastened to arm himself, those who had emptied their rifles hurriedly re-loading them.

"'For your life don't!' cried Garey, catching at the gun of one of the hunters.

"The caution came too late: half-a-dozen bullets were already whistling upwards.

"The effect was just what the trapper had anticipated. The bears, maddened by the bullets, which had harmed them no more than the pricking of as many pins, dropped to their all-fours again, and, with fierce growls, commenced descending the cliff.

"The scene of confusion was now at its height. Several of the men, less brave than their comrades, ran off to hide themselves in the snow, while others commenced climbing the low pine-trees!

"'Cache the gals!' cried Garey. 'Hyar, yer darned Spanish greasers! if yer won't light, hook on to the weemen a wheen o' yer, and toat them to the snow. Cowardly slinks,—wagh!'

"'See to them, doctor,' I shouted to the German, who, I thought, might be best spared from the fight; and the next, moment, the doctor, assisted by several Mexicans, was hurrying the terrified girls towards the spot where we had left the cimmaron.

"Many of us knew that to hide, under the circumstances, would be worse than useless. The fierce but sagacious brutes would have discovered, us one by one, and destroyed, us in detail. 'They must, be met and fought!' that was the word; and we resolved to carry it into execution.

"There were about a dozen of us who 'stood up to it'—all the Delaware and Shawanoes, with Garey and the mountain-men.

"We kept firing at the bears as they ran along the ledges in their zigzag descent, but our rifles were out of order, our fingers were numbed with cold, and our nerves weakened with hunger. Our bullets drew blood from the hideous brutes, yet not a shot proved deadly. It only stung them into fiercer rage.

"It was a fearful moment when the last shot was fired, and still not an enemy the less. We flung away the guns, and, clutching the hatchets and hunting-knives, silently awaited our grizzly foes.

"We had taken our stand close to the rock. It was our design to have the first blow, as the animals, for the most part, came stern-foremost down the cliff. In this we were disappointed. On reaching a ledge some ten feet from the platform, the foremost bear halted, and, seeing our position, hesitated to descend. The next moment, his companions, maddened with wounds, came tumbling down upon the same ledge, and, with fierce growls, the five huge bodies were precipitated into our midst.

"Then came the desperate struggle, which I cannot describe,—the shouts of the hunters, the wilder yells of our Indian allies, the hoarse worrying of the bears, the ringing of tomahawks from skulls like flint, the deep, dull 'thud' of the stabbing-knife, and now and then a groan, as the crescent claw tore up the clinging muscle. O God! it was a fearful scene!

"Over the platform bears and men went rolling and struggling, in the wild battle of life and death. Through the trees, and into the deep drift, staining the snow with their mingled blood! Here, two or three men were engaged with a single foe—there, some brave hunter stood battling alone. Several were sprawling upon the ground. Every moment, the bears were lessening the number of their assailants!

"I had been struck down at the commencement of the struggle. On regaining my feet, I saw the animal that had felled me hugging the prostrate body of a man.

"It was Gode. I leaned over the bear, clutching its shaggy skin. I did this to steady myself; I was weak and dizzy; so were we all. I struck with all my force, stabbing the animal on the ribs.

"Letting go the Frenchman, the bear turned suddenly, and reared upon me. I endeavoured to avoid the encounter, and ran backward, fending him off with my knife.

"All at once I came against the snow-drift, and fell over on my back. Next moment, the heavy body was precipitated upon me, the sharp claws pierced deep into my shoulder,—I inhaled the monster's fetid breath; and striking wildly with my right arm, still free, we rolled over and over in the snow.

"I was blinded by the dry drift. I felt myself growing weaker and weaker; it was the loss of blood. I shouted—a despairing shout—but it could not have been heard at ten paces' distance. Then there was a strange hissing sound in my ears,—a bright light flashed across my eyes; a burning object passed over my face, scorching the skin; there was a smell as of singeing hair; I could hear voices, mixed with the roars of my adversary; and all at once the claws were drawn out of my flesh, the weight was lifted from my breast, and I was alone!

"I rose to my feet, and, rubbing the snow out of my eyes, looked around. I could see no one. I was in a deep hollow made by our struggles, but I was alone!

"The snow all around me was dyed to a crimson; but what had become of my terrible antagonist? Who had rescued me from his deadly embrace?

"I staggered forward to the open ground. Here a new scene met my gaze: a strange-looking man was running across the platform, with a huge firebrand,—the bole of a burning pine-tree,—which he waved in the air. He was chasing one of the hears, that, growling with rage and pain, was making every effort to reach the cliffs. Two others were already half-way up, and evidently clambering with great difficulty, as the blood dripped back from their wounded flanks.

"The bear that was pursued soon took to the rocks, and, urged by the red brand scorching his shaggy hams, was soon beyond the reach of his pursuer. The latter now made towards a fourth, that was still battling with two or three weak antagonists. This one was 'routed' in a twinkling, and with yells of terror followed his comrades up the bluff. The strange man looked around for the fifth. It had disappeared. Prostrate, wounded men were strewed over the ground, but the bear was nowhere to be seen. He had doubtless escaped through the snow.

"I was still wondering who was the hero of the firebrand, and where he had come from. I have said he was a strange-looking man. He was so— and like no one of our party that I could think of. His head was bald,—no, not bald, but naked,—there was not a hair upon it, crown or sides, and it glistened in the clear light like polished ivory. I was puzzled beyond expression, when a man—Garey—who had been felled upon the platform by a blow from one of the bears, suddenly sprang to his feet, exclaiming,—

"'Go it, Doc! Three chyars for the doctor!'

"To my astonishment, I now recognised the features of that individual, the absence of whose brown locks had produced such a metamorphosis as, I believe, was never effected by means of borrowed hair.

"'Here's your scalp, Doc,' cried Garey, running up with the wig, 'by the livin' thunder! yer saved us all;' and the hunter seized the German in his wild embrace.

"Wounded men were all around, and commenced crawling together. But where was the fifth of the bears? Four only had escaped by the cliff.

"'Yonder he goes!' cried a voice, as a light spray, rising above the snow-wreath, showed that some animal was struggling through the drift.

"Several commenced loading their rifles, intending to follow, and, if possible, secure him. The doctor armed himself with a fresh pine; but before these, arrangements were completed, a strange cry came from the spot, that caused our blood to run cold again. The Indians leaped to their feet, and, seizing their tomahawks, rushed to the gap. They knew the meaning of that cry—it was the death-yell of their tribe!

"They entered the road that we had trampled down in the morning, followed by those who had loaded their guns. We watched them from the platform with anxious expectation, but before they had reached the spot, we could see that, the 'stoor' was slowly settling down. It was plain that the struggle had ended.

"We still stood waiting in breathless silence, and watching the floating spray that noted their progress through the drift. At length they had reached the scene of the struggle. There was an ominous stillness, that lasted for a moment, and then the Indian's fate was announced in the sad, wild note that came wailing up the valley. It was the dirge of a Shawano warrior!

"They had found their brave comrade dead, with his scalping-knife buried in the heart of his terrible antagonist!

"It was a costly supper, that bear-meat, but, perhaps, the sacrifice had saved many lives. We would keep the 'cimmaron' for to-morrow; next day, the man-root; and the next,—what next? Perhaps—the man!

"Fortunately, we were not, driven to this extremity. The frost, had again set in, and the surface of the snow, previously moistened by the sun and rain, soon became caked into ice strong enough to bear us, and upon its firm crust we escaped out of the perilous pass, and gained the warmer region of the plains in safety."



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

In our journey we had kept far enough to the north to avoid the difficult route of the Ozark Hills; and we at length encamped upon the Marais de Cygnes, a branch of the Osage River. Beyond this we expected to fall in with the buffalo, and of course we were full of pleasant anticipation. Near the point where we had pitched our camp, the banks of the river were marshy, with here and there small lakes of stagnant water. In these a large number of swans, with wild geese and other aquatic birds, were swimming and feeding.

Of course our guns were put in requisition, and we succeeded in killing a brace of swans, with a grey goose (Anser Canadensis), and a pair of ducks. The swans were very large ones—of the Trumpeter species—and one of them was cooked for supper. It was in excellent condition, and furnished a meal for the whole of our party! The other swan, with the goose and ducks, were stowed away for another occasion.

While "discussing" the flesh of this great and noble bird, we also discussed many of the points in its natural history.

"White as a swan" is a simile old as language itself. It would, no doubt, puzzle an Australian, used to look upon those beautiful and stately birds as being of a very different complexion. The simile holds good, however, with the North-American species, all three of which—for there are three of them—are almost snow-white.

We need not describe the form or general appearance of the swan. These are familiar to every one. The long, upright, and gracefully-curving neck; the finely-moulded breast, the upward-tending tail-tip, the light "dip," and easy progression through the water, are points that everybody has observed, admired, and remembered. These are common to all birds of the genus Cygnus, and are therefore not peculiar to the swans of America.

Many people fancy there are but two kinds of swans—the white and black. It is not long since the black ones have been introduced to general notoriety, as well as to general admiration. But there are many distinct species besides—species differing from each other in size, voice, and other peculiarities. In Europe alone, there are four native swans, specifically distinct.

It was long believed that the common American swan (Cygnus Americanus) was identical with the common European species, so well-known in England. It is now ascertained, however, not only that these two are specifically distinct, but that in North America there exist two other species, differing from the Cygnus Americanus, and from each other. These are the Trumpeter (Cygnus buccinnator) and the small swan of Bewick (Cygnus Bewickii), also an inhabitant of European countries.

The common American species is of a pure white, with black hill, logs, and feet. A slight tinge of brownish red is found on some individuals on the crown of the head, and a small patch of orange-yellow extends from the angles of the mouth to the eye. On the base of the bill is a fleshy tubercle or knob, and the upper mandible is curved at the tip.

The young of this species are of a bluish-grey colour, with more of the brown-red tinge upon the head. The naked yellow patch, extending from the angles of the mouth to the eye, in the young birds, is covered with feathers, and their bills are flesh-coloured. This description answers in every respect for the swan of Bewick; but the latter species is only three-fourths the size of the former; and, besides, it has only eighteen tail feathers, while the American swan has twenty. Their note is also entirely unlike.

The "Trumpeter" is different from either. He is the largest, being frequently met with of nearly six feet in length, while the common swan rarely exceeds five. The bill of the Trumpeter is not tuberculated; and the yellow patch under the eye is wanting. The bill, legs, and feet are entirely black. All the rest is white, with the exception of the head, which is usually tinged with chestnut or red-brown. When young, he is of a greyish-white, with a yellow mixture, and the head of deeper red-brown. His tail feathers are twenty-four in number; but there is a material difference between him and his congeners in the arrangement of the windpipe. In the Trumpeter this enters a protuberance that stands out on the dorsal aspect of the sternum, which is wanting in both the other kinds. It may be that this arrangement has something to do with his peculiar note, which differs altogether from that of the others. It is much fuller and louder, and at a distance bears a considerable resemblance to the trumpet or French horn. Hence the trivial name by which this species is known to the hunters.

All the American swans are migratory—that is, they pass from north to south, every autumn, and back again from south to north in the beginning of spring.

The period of their migration is different with the three species. The Trumpeter is the earliest, preceding all other birds, with the exception of the eagles. The Cygnus Americanus comes next; and, lastly, the small swans, that are among the very latest of migratory birds.

The Trumpeters seek the north at the breaking up of the ice. Sometimes they arrive at a point in their journey where this has not taken place. In such cases they fly back again until they reach some river or lake from which the ice has disappeared, where they remain a few days, and wait the opening of the waters farther north. When they are thus retarded and sent back, it is always in consequence of some unusual and unseasonable weather.

The swans go northward to breed. Why they do so is a mystery. Perhaps they feel more secure in the inhospitable wastes that lie within the Arctic circle. The Trumpeters breed as far south as latitude 61 degrees, but most of them retire within the frigid zone.

The small swans do not nest so far south, but pursue their course still onward to the Polar Sea. Here they build immense nests by raising heaps of peat moss, six feet in length by four in width, and two feet high. In the top of these heaps is situated the nest, which consists of a cavity a foot deep, and a foot and a half in diameter.

The Trumpeters and American swans build in marshes and the islands of lakes. Where the muskrat (Fiber zibethicus) abounds, his dome-shaped dwelling—at that season, of course, deserted—serves often as the breeding-place boll? for the swans and wild geese. On the top of this structure, isolated in the midst of great marshes, these birds are secure from all their enemies—the eagle excepted.

The eggs of the Trumpeter are very large, one of them being enough to make a good meal for a man. The eggs of the American species are smaller and of a greenish appearance, while those of the Bewick swan are still smaller and of a brownish-white colour, with a slight clouding of darker hue.

Six or seven eggs is the usual "setting." The cygnets, when half or full-grown, are esteemed good eating, and are much sought after by the hunters and Indians of the fur countries.

When the cygnets are full-grown, and the frost makes its appearance upon the lakes and rivers of the hyperborean regions, the swans begin to shift southwards. They do not migrate directly, as in the spring, but take more time on their journey, and remain longer in the countries through which they pass. This no doubt arises from the fact that a different motive or instinct now urges them. In the spring they are under the impulse of philo-progenitiveness. Now they range from lake to lake and stream to stream in search only of food. Again, as in the spring, the Trumpeters lead the van—winging their way to the great lakes, and afterwards along the Atlantic coast, and by the line of the Mississippi, to the marshy shores of the Mexican Sea.

It may be remarked that this last-mentioned species—the Trumpeter—is rare upon the Atlantic coast, where the common swan is seen in greatest plenty. Again, the Trumpeter does not appear on the Pacific or by the Colombia River, where the common swan is met with, but the latter is there outnumbered by the small species (Cygnus Bewickii) in the ratio of five to one. This last again is not known in the fur countries of the interior, where the Cygnus Americanus is found, but where the Trumpeter exists in greatest numbers. Indeed the skins of the Trumpeter are those which are mostly exported by the Hudson's Bay Company, and which form an important article of their commerce.

The swan is eagerly hunted by the Indians who inhabit the fur countries. Its skin brings a good price from the traders, and its quills are valuable. Besides, the flesh is a consideration with these people, whose life, it must be borne in mind, is one continuous struggle for food; and who, for one-half the year, live upon the very verge of starvation.

The swan, therefore, being a bird that weighs between twenty and thirty pounds, ranks among large game, and is hunted with proportionate ardour. Every art the Indian can devise is made use of to circumvent these great birds, and snares, traps, and decoys of all kinds are employed in the pursuit.

But the swans are among the shyest of God's creatures. They fly so rapidly, unless when beating against the wind, that it requires a practised shot to hit them on the wing. Even when moulting their feathers, or when young, they can escape—fluttering over the surface of the water faster than a canoe can be paddled.

The most usual method of hunting them is by snares. These are set in the following manner:—

A lake or river is chosen, where it is known the swans are in the habit of resting for some time on their migration southward—for this is the principal season of swan-catching.

Some time before the birds make their appearance, a number of wicker hedges are constructed, running perpendicularly out from the bank, and at the distance of a few yards from each other. In the spaces between, as well as in openings left in the fences themselves, snares are set. These snares are made of the intestines of the deer, twisted into a round shape, and looped. They are placed so that several snares may embrace the opening, and the swans cannot pass through without being caught.

The snare is fastened to a stake, driven into the mud with sufficient firmness to hold the bird when caught and struggling. That the snare may not be blown out of its proper place by the wind, or carried astray by the current, it is attached to the wattles of the hedge by some strands of grass. These, of course, are easily broken, and give way the moment a bird presses against the loop.

The fences or wattle-hedges are always constructed projecting out from the shore—for it is known that the swans must keep close in to the land while feeding. Whenever a lake or river is sufficiently shallow to make it possible to drive in stakes, the hedges are continued across it from one side to the other.

Swans are also snared upon their nests. When a nest is found, the snare is set so as to catch the bird upon her return to the eggs. These birds, like many others, have the habit of entering the nest on one side, and going out by the other, and it is upon the entrance side that the snare is set.

The Indians have a belief that if the hands of the persons setting the snare be not clean, the bird will not approach it, but rather desert her eggs, even though she may have been hatching them for some time.

It is, indeed, true that this is a habit of many birds, and may be so of the wild swan. Certain it is that the nest is always reconnoitred by the returning bird with great caution, and any irregularity appearing about it will render her extremely shy of approaching it.

Swans are shot, like other birds, by "approaching" them under cover. It requires very large shot to kill them—the same that is used for deer, and known throughout America as "buck-shot." In England this size of shot is termed "swan shot."

It is difficult to get within range of the wild swan, he is by nature a shy bird; and his long neck enables him to see over the sedge that surrounds him. Where there happens to be no cover—and this is generally the case where he haunts—it is impossible to approach him.

Sometimes the hunter floats down upon him with his canoe hidden by a garniture of reeds and bushes. At other times he gets near enough in the disguise of a deer or other quadruped—for the swan, like most wild birds, is less afraid of the lower animals than of man.

During the spring migration, when the swan is moving northward, the hunter, hidden under some rock, bank, or tree, frequently lures him from his high flight by the imitation of his well-known "hoop." This does not succeed so well in the autumn.

When the swans arrive prematurely on their spring journey, they resort sometimes in considerable flocks to the springs and waterfalls, all other places being then ice-bound. At this time the hunters concealing themselves in the neighbourhood, obtain the desired proximity, and deal destruction with their guns.

A— related an account of a swan hunt by torch-light, which he had made some years before.

"I was staying some days," said he, "at a remote, settlement upon one of the streams that run into the Red river of the north, it was in the autumn season, and the Trumpeter-swans had arrived in the neighbourhood on their annual migration to the south. I had been out several times after them with my gun, but was unable to get a shot at them in consequence of their shyness. I had adopted every expedient I could think of—calls, disguises, and decoys—but all to no purpose. I resolved, at length, to try them by torch-light.

"It so happened that none of the hunters, at the settlement had ever practised this method; but as most of them had succeeded, by some means or other, in decoying and capturing several swans by other means, my hunter-pride was touched, and I was most anxious to show that I could kill swans as well as they. I had never seen Swans shot by torch-light, but I had employed the plan for killing deer, as you already know, and I was determined to make a trial of it upon the swans.

"I set secretly about it, resolved to steal a march upon my neighbours, if possible. My servant alone was admitted into my confidence, and we proceeded to make the necessary arrangements.

"These were precisely similar to those already described in my limit of the long-tails, except that the canoe, instead of being 'a dug-out,' was a light craft of birch-bark, such as are in use among the Chippowas and other Indians of the northern countries. The canoe was obtained from a settler, and tilled with torch-wood and other necessary articles, but these were clandestinely put on board.

"I was now ready, and a dark night was all that was wanted to enable me to carry out my plan.

"Fortunately I soon obtained this to my heart's satisfaction. A night arrived as dark as Erebus; and with my servant using the paddle, we pushed out and shot swiftly down stream.

"As soon as we had cleared the 'settlement,' we lit our pine-knots in the frying-pan. The blaze refracted from the concave and blackened surface of the bark, cast a brilliant light over the semicircle ahead of us, at the same time that we, behind the screen of birch-bark, were hid in utter darkness. I had heard that the swans, instead of being frightened by torch-light, only became amazed, and even at times curious enough to approach it, just as the deer and some other animals do. This proved to be correct, as we had very soon a practical illustration of it.

"We had not gone a mile down the river when we observed several white objects within the circle of our light; and paddling a little nearer, we saw that they were swans. We could distinguish their long, upright necks; and saw that they had given up feeding, and were gazing with wonder at the odd object that was approaching them.

"There were five of them in the flock; and I directed my servant to paddle towards that which seemed nearest, and to use his oar with as much silence as possible. At the same time I looked to the caps of my double-barrelled gun.

"The swans for a time remained perfectly motionless, sitting high in the water, with their long necks raised far above the surface. They appeared to be more affected by surprise than fear.

"When we had got within about a hundred yards of them, I saw that they began to move about, and close in to one another; at the same time was heard proceeding from them a strange sound resembling very much the whistle of the fallow deer. I had heard of the singing of the swan, as a prelude to its death, and I hoped that which now reached my ears was a similar foreboding.

"In order to make it so, I leaned forward, levelled my double-barrel— both barrels being cocked—and waited the moment.

"The birds had 'clumped' together, until their long serpent-like necks crossed each other. A few more noiseless strokes of the paddle brought me within reach, and aiming for the heads of three that 'lined,' I pulled both triggers at once.

"The immense recoil flung me back, and the smoke for a moment prevented us from seeing the effect.

"As soon as it had been wafted aside, our eyes were feasted by the sight of two large white objects floating down the current, while a third, evidently wounded, struggled along the surface, and beating the water into foam with its broad wings.

"The remaining two had risen high into the air, and were heard uttering their loud trumpet-notes as they winged their flight through the dark heavens.

"We soon bagged our game, both dead and wounded, and saw that they were a large 'gander' and two young birds.

"It was a successful beginning; and having replenished our torch, we continued to float downward in search of more. Half a mile farther on, we came in sight of three others, one of which we succeeded in killing.

"Another 'spell' of paddling brought us to a third flock, out of which I got one for each barrel of my gun; and a short distance below I succeeded in killing a pair of the grey wild geese.

"In this way we kept down the river for at least ten miles I should think, killing both swans and geese as we went. Indeed, the novelty of the thing, the wild scenery through which we passed—rendered more wild and picturesque by the glare of the torch—and the excitement of success, all combined to render the sport most attractive; and but that our 'pine-knots' had run out, I would have continued it until morning.

"The failure of these at length brought our shooting to a termination, and we were compelled to put about, and undertake the much less pleasant, and much more laborious, task, of paddling ten miles up-stream. The consciousness, however, of having performed a great feat—in the language of the Canadian hunters, a grand 'coup,' made the labour seem more light, and we soon arrived at the settlement, and next morning triumphantly paraded our game-bag in front of our 'lodge.'

"Its contents were twelve trumpeter-swans, besides three of the 'hoopers.' We had also a pair of Canada geese; a snow-goose, and three brant,—these last being the produce of a single shot.

"The hunters of the settlement were quite envious, and could not understand what means I had employed to get up such a 'game-bag.' I intended to have kept that for some time a secret; but the frying-pan and the piece of blackened bark were found, and these betrayed my stratagem; so that on the night after, a dozen canoes, with torches at their bows, might have been seen floating down the waters of the stream."