"Now, in the winter-tam most all the animals in the wood he'll go white. Those hare, he'll get white just same color as the snow. Those picheu, those lynx, he'll get gray, almost white. The ptarmigan, he'll get white, too, so those owl won' see heem on the snow; an' the owl he'll get white, so nothing will see heem when he goes on the snow. Some tam up north the wolf he'll be white all over, an' some fox he'll also be white all same as the snow.

"But the Cigous, or wissel, he'll stay brown, with white streak on his neck, same like he'll been in the summer-tam. When he'll go on the hont, those rabbeet, she'll saw Cigous come, an' he'll ron off, so Cigous he'll go hongree.

"Now, Cigous he'll get this on his min', an' he'll sit down one tam an' he'll make a pray to Kitchai-Manitou, an' also to Wiesacajac, an' he'll pray that some tam he'll be white in the winter-tam, the same as the snow, the same as those other animal, so he'll catch the meat an' not go hongree.

"'Oh, Wiesacajac,' he'll pray, 'what for you'll make me dark this a-way, when I'll been hongree? Have pity on me!'

"Well, Wiesacajac, he'll been kin' in his heart, an' he'll hear those Cigous pray, an' he'll say, 'My frien', I s'pose you'll not got any meat, an' you'll ask me to take pity on you. The reason why I'll not make you white like other animal is, you'll been such thief! Oh, Cigous, s'pose you'll go live two week all right, an' not steal, an' not tell any lie to me, then I'll make you white, all same like other animals.'

"'Oh, Wiesacajac,' say Cigous, 'it's ver' hard to be good for two week an' not steal, an' not tell lie. But I'll try to do this thing, me!'

"Now, in two week all the family of Cigous he'll not got anything to eat, an' he'll almost starve, an' he'll come in out of the woods an' sit aroun' on the village where the people live. But all the people can see Cigous an' his family because he'll all be brown, an' he'll show on the snow, plain.

"Now, Cigous he'll got very hongree, an' he'll got under the blanket in the lodge where the people live. Bimeby he'll smell something cook on the fire. Then he'll go out in the bush, an' he'll pray again to Wiesacajac, an' he'll say, 'Oh, Wiesacajac, I'm almost white now, so I can get meat. But it's ver' hard tam for me!'

"Wiesacajac, he'll tol' heem to go back in an' not lie an' not steal, an' then see what he'll got.

"Cigous, he'll been happy this tam, an' he'll go back on the lodge an' smell that cooking some more. He'll not know it, but by this tam Wiesacajac has made heem all white, tail an' all. But Cigous he'll smell something cook in the pot, an' he'll say, 'I wonder what is cook in that pot on the fire.'

"He'll couldn't stan' up high to reach his foots in the pot, so he say, 'Ah, ha! My tail he's longer than my foots. I'll stick my tail in the pot, an' see what is cook that smells so good.'

"Now, Cigous not know his tail is all white then. But Wiesacajac, he'll see Cigous all the tam, an' he'll turn the meat in the pot into pitch, and make it boil strong; so Cigous when he'll stick his tail in the pot, he'll stick it in the pitch, an' when he'll pull out the end of his tail, the end of it will be all black!

"Then Cigous he'll go out on the snow, an' he'll look aroun', an' bimeby Wiesacajac he'll seen heem an' he'll say, 'Ah, Cigous, what's on your tail, because I'll see it is all black on the end?'

"Cigous he'll turn aroun' an' ron aroun' an' aroun' on a reeng, but all the tam he'll see the black spot on his tail, an' it won't come off.

"'Now, Cigous,' says Wiesacajac, 'I'll been good spirit, else surely I'll punish you plenty for stealing when you tol' me you'll be good animal. Already I'll made you white, all but your tail. Now that the people may always know you for a thief, you an' all your family must have black spot on tail in the winter-tam. I would make you black all over, Cigous, but I have take pity on your family, who must not starve. Maybe so you could caught meat, but all the tam your tail will mark you for a thief!'

"From that time," said Moise, concluding, "the ermine, Cigous, has always been a good honter. But always he's brown in the summer-tam, an' in the winter-tam he isn't not quite white. That is because he is such thief. I know this is so, because my onkle she'll tol' me. I have finish."



XXVI

TRAILING THE BEAR

"I'll tell you what," said John, in the morning, as they still lingered at their pleasant camp; "we're not apt to have a much nicer stopping place than this, so why not make a little hunt, and come back here to-night?"

"Not a bad idea," said Alex.

"What's the best way to plan it out?" asked John. "Ought we to go by boats down the river, and then come back here?"

"I would suggest that Moise and Rob take the dugout and go down the river a little way," replied Alex, "and that you and I and Jess climb to the top of the bank, taking our time, to see if we could find any moose sign, or maybe a bear trail in the country back from the river. In that way we could cover both the top and bottom of the valley. We might find a grizzly higher up, although we are out of the grizzly country here by rights."

This plan suggested by Alex was followed out, and at no very late hour in the morning camp was deserted by our travelers, whose hunting spirit seemed still unabated. They did not meet again until almost dusk. Alex and his companions found no fresh game trails on the heights above, and, in short, concluded their hunt rather early in the afternoon and returned to camp, where they remained for some hours before at length they saw the dugout, which the boys had christened The Plug, slowly making its way up the river.

John and Jesse, themselves pretty tired from their long walk, summoned up energy enough to go down to the beach and peer into the dugout. They saw no sign of any game. They did not, however, ask any questions, for they were learning the dignity of Indian hunters. Alex looked at Moise, but asked him no question. He noticed that Moise was whistling, and apparently not very unhappy, as after a time he went about making his evening fire.

"So you didn't get any bear, Mr. Rob?" said Alex at last.

"No, not quite," said Rob, "but I ought to have got one—I had a pretty fair shot, although it was rather dark where the bear was standing."

Alex spoke a few words to Moise in the Cree language.

"Never mind," said he to Rob at length. "We'll get him to-morrow very easily."

"So Moise said to me; but I don't see how he knows. The bear started off as though he weren't hit at all. He came down to the edge of the wood at a high bank and looked right at us when we were pulling the boat up the stream. You know, the canoe is rather teetery, but I shot as well as I could, and thought I hit him. He turned around, and I shot at him again. But he didn't stop. Moise thought we had better come on in because it was so late."

"Sure," said Moise, "I'll tol' those boy he'll shoot those bear two tam, once in the front an' once in the back. With those rifle, he'll not go far. To-morrow we'll catch heem easy."

"He was a big bear, too," said Rob, "although not as big as our grizzly—just a black bear, that's all. I don't like to cripple any animal and then lose it."

"I don't think we'll lose this one," said Alex, reassuringly.

The judgment of the old hunters proved to be correct, for on the next day, when all hands dropped down the river to the point where Rob had shot at the bear, it was not five minutes before they found the trail where a considerable amount of blood showed that the bear had been badly wounded. At once they began to follow this trail back into the high country away from the river.

Alex did not ask any questions, and there was little talk between him and Moise. Moise, however, took the lead on the trail. Alex did not even carry his rifle, but loitered along, picking berries and enjoying himself, after his own fashion.

"Keep close up to Moise, young gentlemen," he said. "This bear, although only a black bear, is apt to be very ugly if you find him still alive. If he comes for you, kill him quick. I doubt, however, very much whether he will be alive when we come up with him."

"How do you know about that, Alex?" demanded John.

"It's our business to know about such things," answered Alex, smiling.

All the boys now could see where the bear had scrambled up the bank, and where it had gone through the bushes on its way to the forest, leaving a plain blood trail on the ground.

"Moise will lead on the trail," said Alex. "He's more Injun than I am. In some ways I can beat him, in others he can beat me. He is one of the best trailers on the river."

Moise now was a different man from the talkative companion of the camp. He was very silent, and advanced cautiously along the trail, his eyes studying every record of the ground and cover which had been left by the wounded animal. Once in a while he pointed silently to a broken bush or to a drop of blood. After a while he stopped and pointed to a tree whose bark was ripped off.

"Heem awful mad," whispered Moise. "S'pose you'll seen heem here, he'll fight sure. He'll bite all the tree an' fight the bush."

After a while Alex showed them a deep excavation in the soft dirt.

"He'll dig hole here an' lie down," said Moise. "Plenty mad now, sure!"

They kept on after the trail, following it deeper into the forest and higher up the slope, minute after minute, for a time which seemed short, but which really was over an hour and a half in extent. Moise still remained silent and not in the least excited, and Alex still continued to pick his berries and eat them leisurely as he followed along in the rear. Once they lost the trail on an open hillside covered with wintergreen plants, and the boys thought the hunt was over. Moise however, swung around like a hound on the trail, clear to the other side of the hill, and in the course of a few minutes picked up the spoor again when it struck softer ground beyond. They passed on then, moving upward deeper into the forest for some minutes, until at length Moise turned about.

"About five minute now, we'll found heem," said he, quietly.

"How does he know, Alex?" demanded Jesse, who was farther to the rear.

"Easy enough," answered Alex. "He says the bear has lain down ten times now, and he would not do that unless he was very weak. He would travel as far as he could. Now he is lying down very often. I'm sorry, but I don't think we'll get any fight out of this bear. Moise thinks you'll find him dead."

Surely enough, they had hardly gone another hundred yards before Moise, stepping back quietly, pointed through an opening in the bushes. There, lying before them in a little glade, lay a vast, black body, motionless.

Rob grounded his rifle-butt, almost in disappointment, but later expressed his satisfaction.

"Now, boys, I got him," said he, "and I guess it's just as well he didn't have to wait till now for us to come. But speaking of trailing, Moise, you certainly know your business."

"Oh yes," said Moise, "every man in this country he'll mus' know how to trail, else he'll go hongree some tam. My onkle she'll taught me how for follow trail."

"Well," said Alex, "here's some more meat to get down to the boat, I suppose, and we need meat badly, too. We ought not to waste it, but if we take it all on board we'll have to hurry to get down to Peace River Landing with it, because it is more than we can possibly eat."

The two older hunters now drew their big buffalo knives and fell to work skinning and dismembering the carcass of the bear, the boys helping as they could. It was plainly the intention of Alex and Moise to make one trip with meat and hide.

In order to carry the green bear hide—always a slippery and awkward thing to pack—Moise now showed a little device often practised, as he said, among the Crees. He cut two sharpened sticks, each about a couple of feet in length, and placing these down on the hide, folded the hide around them, so that it made a sharp, four-cornered pack. He lashed the hide tightly inside these four corners, and then lifting it up and down, smilingly showed the boys that the green hide now would not slip, but would remain in place, thus making a much better pack. He slung his belt at the corners of the pack, and then motioned to Alex to throw up on top of his pack one of the hams of the bear which had been detached from the carcass. When Moise got his load he started off at a trot, taking a course different from that on which they had come.

Alex in turn used his belt and some thongs he had in making a pack of the remainder of the meat, which, heavy as it seemed, he managed to shoulder, leaving the boys nothing to carry except the skull of the bear, which they had expressed a wish to retain with the robe.

"Do you suppose we'll ever get to be men as strong as that?" asked Rob in a whisper, pointing to the solitary figure of the breed now passing rapidly down the slope.

"I didn't know anybody was so strong," admitted Jesse. "They must be pretty good men, I'm thinking."

"But which way are they going?" asked John. "Do you suppose they're lost?"

"We'll follow and see," answered Rob. "They seem to know their own way pretty well."

They now kept Alex in sight, and in the course of about fifteen or twenty minutes came up with Moise, who was sitting down, resting his back against the root of a tree.

"I suppose you'll know where we are now?" he asked of Rob.

Rob shook his head. "No, I don't recognize the place."

Moise pointed with a thumb to a point just back of the tree. Rob stepped over, and gazing down, saw a deep hole in the ground.

"Why, I know!" said he. "This is one of the holes the bear dug—one of the first ones, I should think."

"Oh, I see, you cut across-lots and didn't follow the back trail." John was as much surprised as Rob.

"No," said Alex, "we saved perhaps half a mile by coming straight across, for, you see, the bear was wandering all around on the hillside as he was trying to get away. You'll find the boats are directly below us here, and not very far away."

"This," said Rob, "seems to me pretty wonderful! You men certainly do know how to get along in this country. I'd never have thought this was the direct course, and if I had been in there alone I certainly would have followed the bear's trail back—if I could have found it."

Yet it all came out quite as Alex and Moise had planned, for in less than ten minutes more they scrambled down the steep bank to the rocky beach where the two boats lay. The men distributed the hide and meat between the two, covering up both with green willow boughs.

"Now," said Alex, "for a fast run down this river. We've got more meat than we can use, and we must get to the Landing."



XXVII

THE END OF THE OLD WAR-TRAIL

It is possible to make twenty-five miles a day with pole and tracking-line against a current even so strong as that of the Peace River. Twice or thrice that distance down-stream is much easier, so that no greatly difficult journey remained ahead of our travelers between their last camp and the old Hudson Bay post known as Peace River Landing, which perhaps Moise would have called the end of the old war-trail from Little Slave Lake—the point near the junction of the Peace and Smoky rivers which has in it so much strategic value, whether in war or in peace. The two boats, pausing only for the briefest possible encampments, now swung on down, day after day, not pausing at the ultimate western settlements, St. John and Dunvegan, but running on down, between high and steep banks, through a country clean and beautiful with its covering of poplar growth. At last, well wearied with steady paddling, they opened up a great "V" in the valley, so that they knew they were at the junction of the Smoky and the Peace, and hence at the end of this stage of their journey.

It was evening at the time of their arrival, and Rob was much for finishing the journey that day, yet yielded to the wish of Moise, who thought it would be better to camp some few miles above the town, although almost within sight of the great ferry which here crosses the main river from the wagon trail of the north bank.

"We'll must go in like real voyageurs," insisted Moise. "We'll not look good to go in to-night—too much tire an' dirt."

In the morning Moise appeared at the breakfast table attired in his best. He had in some way managed a clean shave, and now his long, black hair was bound back with a gaudy handkerchief, his old shirt replaced by a new and bright one, and his old moccasins discarded for a pair of new and brilliantly beaded ones, so that in all he made a brave figure of a voyageur indeed. Alex also in a quiet way had followed the lead of Moise. The boys themselves, falling into the spirit of this, hunted through their war-bags for such finery as they could compass, and decked themselves out in turn with new moccasins, new gloves, and new kerchiefs for their necks. Moise looked on them all with the utmost approbation.

"It's the best for return like some braves hommes," said he. "Well, en avant!"

They all bent gaily to the paddles now, and sped down the flood of the great stream until at length they sighted the buildings of the Hudson Bay post, just below the ferry. Here, finishing with a great spurt of speed, they pulled alongside the landing bank, just below where there lay at mooring the tall structure of the Hudson Bay steamboat, Peace River, for the time tarrying at this point. Moise rolled his paddle along the gunwale, making the spray fly from the blade after the old fashion of the voyageurs ending a journey, and the boys followed his example. Many willing hands aided them to disembark. A little later they found themselves ready for what seemed apt to be one of their last encampments.

A tall breed woman stood at a little distance up the bank, silently awaiting their coming. Moise pointed to her with no great emotion.

"He's my womans," said he. "He'll fix the camp for us an' take care of those meat, yes."



Moise and his wife met, undoubtedly glad to see each other, though making no great show at the time. Pretty soon the breed woman came down and lifted the bear hides and the meat from the boats.

"She'll fix up the hides for you, all right," said Alex, quietly. "As we don't need the meat, and as I don't live here, but a hundred miles below on Little Slave, I think we had better give Moise all of the meat for himself and his people—he probably has fifty or more 'uncles' and 'cousins' in this village. Meantime, I think it might be well for us to make a little camp over here in the cottonwoods just back of the lodges."

They saw now on the flat between the river and the Company post quite a little village of Indian conical tepees, from which now came many Indians and half-breeds, and a multitude of yelping dogs.

The boys, aided by one or two taciturn but kindly natives, who seemed to know who they were, and so lent a hand without any request, soon had their simple little camp well under way. At about this time they were approached by a stalwart man wearing the cap of the Hudson Bay Company's river service.

"I'm Saunders, of the Hudson Bay Company," said he, "and I suppose you're the nephews of Mr. Wilcox, an engineer, who has gone down the river?"

"Yes, sir," said Rob; "we have just come down, and we expected to meet him below here."

"I have a letter for you," said Captain Saunders. "Mr. Wilcox came up from Little Slave awhile back, and went down to Fort Vermilion with us on our last trip—I'm the captain of the boat over yonder. He asked me to bring you down to Vermilion on our next run. I suppose the letter explains it all."

"Yes, sir," said Rob, after reading it and handing it to the others. "That's about the size of it. We thought our trip was ended here, but he asks us to come on down and meet him at Fort Vermilion! It seems a long way; but we're very glad to meet you, Captain Saunders."

They all shook hands, and the grizzled veteran smiled at them quizzically.

"Well, young gentlemen," said he, "I hardly know what to think about your trip, but if you really made it, you're lucky to get through in as good shape as you have."

"We had a perfectly bully time, sir," said Rob. "We lost one of our boats west of the canyon, but we got another this side, and we're all safe and sound, with every ounce of our property along."

"You have the best of me, I must admit," said the Hudson Bay man, "for I have never been west of St. John myself, although we make the Dunvegan run regularly all the time, of course. They tell me it is pretty wild back there in the mountains."

"Yes, sir," said Rob. "The water's pretty fast sometimes; but, you see, we had two good men with us, and we were very careful."

"You had pretty fair men with you, too, didn't you, Alex?" smiled Saunders, as the tall half-breed came up at that time.

"None better," said Alex, quietly. "We caught a grizzly and a black bear, not to mention a caribou and a couple of sheep. They seem to me natural hunters. I'm quite proud of them—so proud that we gave them a 'lob-stick,' Captain."

"And quite right, too," nodded Saunders.

"Oh, well, of course we couldn't have done any of those things without you and Moise," said Rob. "Anybody can shoot a rifle a little bit, but not every one could bring the boats out of such water as we have had."

"Well, now, what do you want to do?" resumed Saunders, after a little. "Here's the Peace River steamer, and you can get a room and a bath and a meal there whenever you like. Or you can stay here in your tent and eat with the factor up at the post beyond. I would suggest that you take in our city before you do much else."

"When were you planning to leave for Vermilion, Captain Saunders?" inquired Rob.

"Some time to-morrow morning, as soon as we get plenty of wood from the yard across the river. It's about three hundred and fifty miles to Vermilion down-stream—that is to say, north of here—but we run it in two or three days with luck. Coming up it's a little slower, of course."

"If you don't mind, sir," said Rob at length, "I think we'd rather sleep in our tent as long as we can—the steamboat would be very nice, but it looks too much like a house."

Saunders laughed, and, turning, led the way through the Indian villages and up toward the single little street which made the village of Peace River Landing, ancient post of the Hudson Bay. Here he introduced the young travelers, who at once became the sensation of the hour for all the inhabitants, who now thronged the streets about them, but who all stood silent and respectful at a distance.

They found the Hudson Bay post, as Jesse had said, more like a country store than the fur-trading post which they had pictured for themselves. They saw piled up on the shelves and counters all sorts of the products of civilization—hardware of every kind, groceries, tinned goods, calicoes, clothes, hats, caps, guns, ammunition—indeed, almost anything one could require.

John was looking behind the counters with wistful eye, for the time ceasing his investigation of the piles of bright new moccasins.

"I don't see any, Alex," said he, at last.

"Any what, Mr. John?"

"Well, you said there'd be toffy."

Alex laughed and beckoned to the clerk. When John made known his wishes, the latter ran his hand in behind a pile of tobacco and brought out a number of blue-covered packages marked "Imperial Toffy."

"I think you will find this very nice, sir," said he. "It's made in the old country, and we sell quite a bit of it here."

John's eyes lighted up at this, and, if truth be told, both of the other boys were glad enough to divide with him his purchase, quantities of which he generously shared also with the Indian and half-breed children whom he presently met in the street.

"I don't see but what this is just the same as any other town," said he at length, his mouth full.

They were received with great courtesy by the factor of the Hudson Bay Company, who invited them to have lunch with him. To their surprise they found on the table all the sorts of green vegetables they had ever known—potatoes, beans, tomatoes, lettuce, many varieties, and all in the greatest profusion and excellence.

"We don't encourage this sort of thing," said the factor, smilingly pointing to these dishes of vegetables, "for the theory of our Company is that all a man needs to eat is meat and fish. But just to be in fashion, we raise a few of these things in our garden, as you may see. When you are at Vermilion, moreover, although that is three hundred and fifty miles north from here, you'll see all sorts of grain and every vegetable you ever heard of growing as well as they do twelve or fifteen hundred miles south of here."

"It's a wonderful country, sir," said Rob. "I don't blame Alex and Moise for calling this the Land of Plenty."

"Moise said that the old war-trail over from the Little Slave country used to end about here," ventured John.

The factor smiled, and admitted that such was once said to have been the case.

"Those days are gone, though, my young friend," said he. "There's a new invasion, which we think may unsettle our old ways as much as the invasion of the Crees did those of the Stoneys and Beavers long ago. I mean the invasion of the wagon-trains of farmers."

"Yes," said Rob, "Alex told us we'd have to go to the Liard River pretty soon, if we wanted any moose or bear; but anyhow, we're here in time, and we want to thank you for helping us have such a pleasant trip. We're going to enjoy the run down the river, I'm sure."



XXVIII

STEAMBOATING IN THE FAR NORTH

Captain Saunders finished the operation of getting wood for the Peace River by ten o'clock of the next morning, and as the steamer once more came alongside the steep bank at the landing the hoarse note of her whistles notified every one to get ready for the journey down the stream. The boys, who had passed the night in their tent with Alex—Moise having gone to his own tepee for the night—now began to bestir themselves before going aboard the steamer.

"What are we going to do with all our things, Alex?" asked Rob.

"How do you mean, sir?"

"Why, our tent and the skins and trophies and blankets and everything—we won't need them on board the boat, will we?"

"No, sir, and the best way will be to leave them here."

"What! In our tent, with no one to care for them? You know, Moise is going with us, as I understand it."

"Everything will be perfectly safe right there in the tent, if only you tie the flaps so the dogs can't get in," answered Alex. "You see, it's only white men that steal in this country—the Injuns and breeds won't do that. Until the Klondike pilgrims came through here we didn't know what theft was. I can answer for these people here. Everything you leave will be perfectly safe, and, as you say, it will be less bother than to take this stuff along on the boat."

Rob motioned to his companions, and they stepped aside for a little while.

"What are we going to do about the stuff we've got left over, fellows?" asked he. "Of course, we've got to get down by wagon as far as Little Slave, and we'll need grub enough, if Uncle Dick hasn't got it, to last us two or three days. But we won't boat, and we've got quite a lot of supplies which I think we had better give to Moise—they have to charge pretty good prices for everything they sell at the store up here, and maybe Moise will like this stuff."

"That suits me," said John, "and I think it would be a good idea. Give Moise all the meat and such supplies as we don't need going out."

"And then, how about the boats?"

"Well, old Picheu sold us the dugout, and I don't suppose he'll ever get down here any more, and we certainly couldn't take it out with us. I'm in favor of making Moise a present of that. He seems to like it pretty well."

"A good idea," said Rob. "And how about the Jaybird? Wouldn't it be fine to give that to Alex!"

Both the other boys thought this would be a good idea, and they accordingly proposed these plans to Alex before they went aboard the steamer.

The old hunter smiled with great pleasure at their generosity. "I don't want to rob you young men," said he, "and without doubt you could sell both of those boats here if you liked. But if you want us to keep them, they will be of great value to us. Moise hunts up and down the river all the time, and can use the dugout. I live on Little Slave, and hunt miles below here, but I have plenty of friends with wagons, and they'll take the Jaybird across for me. I'll keep her as long as she lasts, and be very glad indeed."

"Well, then," said Rob, "I don't see any reason why we shouldn't go aboard. I'm almost sorry, too, because it seems to me as though we were pretty near to the end of our trip now."

"Don't be so sure," said the old hunter to him. "Some of the best bear country on this river is below this point, and unless I am very much mistaken, you will probably see a dozen or two bear between here and Vermilion."

On board the steamboat the boys found a long table spread with clean linen, comfortable bunks with linen sheets, something they had not seen for a long time, and a general air of shipshapeness which did not seem to comport with a country so wild and remote as this. Each was assigned to a room, where he distributed his belongings, and soon they were all settled down comfortably, Alex and Moise also having rooms given to them, according to the instructions which Uncle Dick had sent up to the Company.

During the last few minutes before the mooring-lines of the boat were cast loose all the party stood along the rail watching the breed deck-hands carrying aboard the remainder of the boat's cargo. Rob expressed the greatest surprise at the enormous loads which these men carried easily from the storehouse down the slippery bank and up the steep gang-plank. "I didn't think such strong men lived anywhere in the world," said he. "I never saw anything like it!"

"Yes," said Alex, "there are some pretty good men on the river, that's true. The man who couldn't shoulder three hundred pounds and get it aboard would be back of the first rank."

"Three hundred pounds!" said Rob. "That's pretty heavy, isn't it?"

"Non! Non!" broke in Moise. "She's no heavy. On the trail those man he'll take three packets, two hundred seventy poun', an' he'll trot all same dog—we'll both told you that before. My onkle, Billy Loutit, he'll carry seex hondred poun' one tam up a heell long tam. He'll take barrel of pork an' ron on the bank all same deer."

Rob turned a questioning glance on Alex, who nodded confirmation. "Men have been known to carry four or five hundred pounds considerable distances on the portage," said he. "It isn't best for them, but they're always rivaling one another in these feats of strength. Saunders here, the captain, used to carry five hundred pounds in his day—all the salt pork and boxes you could rake up on top of him. You see this is a country of large distances and the seasons are short. You talk about 'hustling' down in the cities, but I suppose there never was a business carried on which 'hustled' as long and hard as the old fur trade a hundred years ago. That's where these men came from—from fathers and grandfathers who were brought up in the work."

At last the steamer cast loose her mooring-lines and stood off for midstream with a final roar of her whistles. A row of Indians and breeds along the bank again gave the salute of the north with a volley of rifle-fire. They were off for the last lap of their long journey down the great river, this time under somewhat different circumstances from those under which they had begun their journey.

The boys rapidly explored the steamboat, and found her a comfortable side-wheeler, especially built for this river work, with powerful engines and abundance of room on her lower deck for heavy cargo. Her cabin-deck provided good accommodations for passengers, and, all in all, she was quite a wonderful vessel for that far-off country, in their belief.

"I found something down below," said John, coming up the companion-stair after a time.

"What's that?" asked Jesse.

"Bear hide nailed on the side of the boat, by the wood-pile below. The engineer killed it a week ago up the river. About every one on the boat has a rifle, and they say they get bears every trip. I think we had better have our guns ready all the time. They say that old Showan, the pilot in the pilot-house up above, only keeps his job on this boat because he gets such fine bear hunting all the time."

"Well, he'll have to beat us," said Rob, stoutly.

"Alex," inquired Jesse, after a time, "how many bear did you ever see on this river in one day?"

"I wouldn't like to say," answered Alex, "for we don't always count them. I'm told that one of our passengers counted twenty-eight in one afternoon right on this part of the river where we are now. I've often seen a dozen a day, I should say."

"You're joking about that, Alex!" said Rob.

"Wait and see—I may show you pretty soon," was the answer.

The boys, always ready enough when there was game to be seen, secured their rifles and took their stand at the front rail of the cabin-deck, ready for anything which might appear.

"I don't see how you can shoot off this boat," said Jesse, trying to sight his rifle. "It wobbles all the time when the engine goes."

Alex gave him a little advice. "I think you'll find it better to stand with your feet pretty close together," said he, "and keep your hands as close together as you can on your rifle, too. Then, when you catch sight of your mark as you swing by, pull, and don't try to hold dead on."

For some time they saw nothing, and, leaning their rifles against the cabin walls, were talking about something else, when all at once they heard the whistle of the steamer boom out above them. At about the same time, one of the deck-hands at the bow deck below picked up a piece of plank and began to beat loudly with it upon the side structure of the boat.

"What's the matter?" asked Rob. "Has everybody gone crazy, Alex?"

"No; they're just trying to beat up the game," said Alex, smiling. "You see that island below? It nearly always has bears feeding on it, where the berries are thick. When the boat comes down above them the men try to scare the bears out into the river. Just wait a minute, and perhaps you'll see some of the strangest bear hunting you ever heard of in your life."

Almost as he spoke they all heard the crack of a rifle from the pilot-house above them, and saw the spit of a bullet on the water many hundreds of yards below them.

"I see him," said Rob, "I see him—there he goes! Look at that little ripple on the water."

"Yes," said Alex, quietly, "there was one on the island, as I supposed there would be. He is swimming off now for the mainland. Too far yet, I should say. Just take your time, and let Showan waste his ammunition."

It was all the boys could do to hold their fire, but presently, since almost every one else on the boat began to shoot, Alex signaled to his young charges to open up their battery. He knew very well that the rifles they were using were more powerful than the carbines which made the usual arm in that country.

"Be careful now, young men," said he, "and watch where your bullets go."

For the first few shots the boys found the difficulty which Jesse had prophesied, for shooting from an unstable platform is always difficult. They had the added advantage, however, of being able to tell where their bullets were falling. As they were all firing close together, and were using rifles of the same caliber, it was difficult to tell who really was the lucky marksman, but, while the little triangle of moving water still seemed two or three hundred yards below the boat, suddenly it ceased to advance. There lay upon the surface of the water a large oblong, black mass.

"Through the head!" said Alex, quietly. "I don't know which one."

All the deck-hands below began to laugh and shout. The captain of the boat now came forward. "I don't know which one of you to congratulate," said he, "but that was good work. Now my men will have plenty of meat for the trip down, that's sure."

He now passed down to the floor of the deck, and under his instructions one of the deck-hands picked up a long, stout pole which had a hook fastened on the end of it.

"Look down there below now, young gentlemen," said Alex, "and you'll see something you never will see anywhere but here. We gaff a bear here, the same as you do a salmon."

This literally was true. The engineer now shut off his engines, and the great boat drifted slowly down upon the floating body of the dead bear, with just steerageway enough to enable the pilot to lay her alongside. At last the deck-hand made a quick sweep with his gaff-hook, and calling two of his fellows to hold onto the pole with him, and so stopping the tremendous pull which the body of the bear made on the pole, they finally succeeded in easing down the strain and presently brought the dead bear close alongside. Then a noose was dropped over its neck and it was hauled aboard. All this time the boys were excitedly waiting for the end of their strange hunt, and to them this sort of bear hunting seemed about the most curious they had ever known.

The deck-hands now, in obedience to a word in their own language from the captain, rapidly began to skin and quarter the dead bear.

Moise explained to them that his young hunters wanted the skin saved for them, with the claws and the skull, so that they were more particular than they usually are in skinning a bear which they intend to eat. Truth to say, the carcass of this bear scarcely lasted for the rest of the voyage, for black bear is a regular article of diet for these people, although they will not often eat the grizzly.

These operations were scarcely well advanced before once more the whistle began to roar, and once more the rifle-fire began from Showan's place up in the pilot-house. This time they all saw a big bear running up the bank, but perhaps half a mile away. It made good speed scrambling up over the bare places, and was lost to sight from time to time among the bushes. But it had no difficulty in making its escape unhurt, for now the boys, although they fired rapidly at it, could not tell where their bullets were dropping, and were unable to correct their aim.

"I don't care," said Rob, "if it did get away. We've got almost bears enough now, and besides, I don't know whether this is sportsmanlike or not, shooting bears from a boat. Anyhow, when an animal is swimming in the water and can't get away, I don't see the fun in killing it. Let's wait on the next one and let the pilot shoot it."

They did not have half an hour to wait before they saw that very thing happen. The whistles once more stirred the echoes as they swung down to a group of two or three islands, and this time two bears started wildly across the channel for the mainland. Rob and his friends did not shoot at these, but almost every one else did. One escaped unhurt, but another, although it almost reached the bank, was shot dead with a bullet from Showan's rifle. Once more the manoeuvers of the gaff-hook were repeated, and once more a great black bear was hauled on board. In fact, they saw during the afternoon no less than six full-grown bears, none of which got away unsaluted, but only two of which really were "bagged," as Alex called it, by the men with the gaff-hook.



XXIX

A MOOSE HUNT

The great flues of the Peace River devoured enormous quantities of the soft pine fuel, so that soon after noon of the second day they found it well to haul alongshore at a wood-yard, where some of the employes of the company had stacked up great heaps of cord-wood. It was the duty of the deck-hands to get this aboard the boat, an operation which would require perhaps several hours.

"You might prefer to go ashore here," said Alex, "while we're lying tied up. We'll blow the whistle in time to call you in before we cast off."

As Alex did not think there would be any hunting, he concluded to remain on the boat, but Moise volunteered to walk along the beach with the boys, to explain anything they might see, and to be of assistance in case they should happen to meet with any game, although no one suspected that such would be the case, since the arrival of the boat had necessarily made considerable disturbance.

"Maybe so we'll seen some of these mooses somewhere," said Moise after a time. "You'll seen his track on the sand all along."

"That's so," said Rob. "They look just like cattle, don't they? I should think all the game in the country must be coming down into this valley to see what's going on. Here's a wolf track, too, big as a horse's foot, almost. And what are all of these little scratches, like a cat, on the beach, Moise?"

"Some beevaire, he'll sweem across an' come out here. He'll got a house somewhere, I'll s'pose. Plenty game on this part of the river all tam. Plenty meat. My people he'll live here many year. I got some onkle over on Battle River, an' seven, five, eight cousin on Cadotte River, not far from here. All good honter, too."

"I can believe that, Moise, after seeing you," said John.

The happy-go-lucky Moise laughed light-heartedly. "If she'll don' hont on this land, she'll starve sure. A man he'll mus' walk, he'll mus' hont, he'll mus' portage, he'll mus' trap, he'll mus' walk on the track-line, an' know how for paddle an' pole, else he'll starve sure."

They walked on down along the narrow beach covered with rough stones, and showing only here and there enough of the sand or earth to hold a track. At length, however, Moise gave a sharp word of caution, and hurriedly motioned them all to get under cover at the bank.

"What is it, Moise?" whispered Rob, eagerly.

"Moose!" He pointed down the bank. For a long time the boys could discover nothing, but at last they caught sight of a little splash of water four or five hundred yards below, where a trickling stream entered the main river at a low place.

"He'll stood there an' fight the fly, maybe so," said Moise. "Ha-hum! Why he'll don' see us I don' know, me. Why the boat he'll not scare heem I'll don' know, me, too. How we'll get heem I don' know, me. But we'll try. Come!"

The boys now found that Moise was once more turned hunter, and rather a relentless and thoughtless one at that, for he seemed to pay no attention to the weakness of other members of his company. They scarcely could keep him in sight as he made his way through the heavy cover to an upper bench, where the forest was more open. Here he pointed to the steep slope which still rose above them.

"We must make surround," said he, in a whisper.

Not so bad a general was Moise, for, slight as was his chance to approach so wary an animal as a moose under these conditions, he used the only possible plan by which success might have been attained.

The little trickle of water in which the moose stood at the beach below came down out of a steep coulee, which at the point where they stood ran between deep banks, rapidly shallowing farther up the main slope. Fortunately the wind was right for an approach. Moise left John at a rock which showed on an open place pretty well up the hill, and stationed Jesse a little closer to the coulee. Moise and Rob scrambled across the steep slopes of the ravine, and hurried on as fast as they could go, to try to get below the moose in case it should attempt to take the water. Thus they had four rifles distributed at points able to cover the course of the moose should it attempt to escape up the bank, and close enough to hear it if it passed beneath in the forest growth.

Rob and Moise paused only long enough partly to get their breath before Moise motioned to Rob to remain where he was, while he himself hastened to the right and down toward the beach.

For some time the half-breed hunter remained at the edge of the cover, listening intently. Apparently he heard no sound, and neither he nor Rob could detect any ripple on the water showing that the moose was going to undertake escape by swimming. Thus for a time, for what indeed seemed several minutes, all the hunters continued in their inaction, unable to determine upon a better course than simply to wait to see what might happen.

What did happen was something rather singular and unexpected. Suddenly Rob heard a rifle-shot at the left, and turning, saw the smoke of Jesse's rifle, followed by a second and then a third report. He saw Jesse then spring to his feet and run up to the slope, shouting excitedly as he went and waving his cap. Evidently the hunt was over in very unexpected fashion. Moise, Rob, and John also ran up as fast as their legs and lungs would allow them.

They saw lying almost at the head of the coulee, which here had shallowed up perceptibly, a great, long-legged, dark body, with enormous head, tremendously long nose, and widely palmated antlers—the latter in the velvet, but already of extreme size.

For a time they could hardly talk for fatigue and excitement, but presently each could see how the hunt had happened to terminate in this way. The moose, smelling or hearing Moise when he got on the wind below, at the edge of the cover, had undertaken to make its escape quietly under the cover of the steep coulee down which it had come. With the silence which this gigantic animal sometimes can compass, it had sneaked like a rabbit quite past Rob and almost to the head of the coulee. A little bit later and it might have gained the summit and have been lost in the poplar forest beyond. Jesse, however, had happened to see it as it emerged, and had opened fire, with the result which now was obvious. His last bullet had struck the moose through the heart as it ran and killed it almost instantly.

"Well, Jess," said Rob, "I take off my hat to you! That moose must have passed within a hundred yards of me and I never knew it, and from where you killed him he must have been three hundred yards at least."

"Those boy she'll be good shot," said Moise, approvingly, slapping Jesse warmly on the shoulder. "Plenty meat now on the boat, hein?"

"When I shot him," said Jesse, simply, "he just fell all over the hill."

"I was just going to shoot," said John, "but I couldn't see very well from where I was, and before I could run into reach Jesse had done the business."

"Well," said Moise, "one thing, she'll been lucky. We'll make those deck-hand come an' carry in this meat—me, I'm too proud to carry some more meat, what?"

He laughed now as he began to skin out and quarter the meat in his usual rapid and efficient fashion.

They had finished this part of their work, and were turning down the hill to return to the steamer when they were saluted by the heavy whistle of the boat, which echoed in great volume back and forth between the steep banks of the river, which here lay at the bottom of a trough-like valley, the stream itself several hundred yards in width.

"Don't hurry," said Moise; "she'll wait till we come, an' she'll like plenty moose meat on his boat."

All of which came out as Moise had predicted, for when they told Captain Saunders that they really had a dead moose ready to be brought aboard the latter beamed his satisfaction.

"That's better than bear meat for me!" said he. "We'll just lie here while the boys go out and bring in the meat."

"Now," said Rob to his friends, as, hot and dusty, they turned to their rooms to get ready for dinner, "I don't know what you other fellows think, but it seems to me we've killed about all the meat we'll need for a while. Let's wait now until we see Uncle Dick—it won't be more than a day or so, and we've all had a good hunt."



XXX

FARTHEST NORTH

As they had been told, our travelers found the banks of their river at this far northern latitude much lower than they had been for the first hundred miles below the Landing. Now and again they would pass little scattered settlements of natives, or the cabin of some former trading-station. For the most part, however, the character of the country was that of an untracked wilderness, in spite of the truth, which was that the Hudson Bay Company had known it and traded through it for more than a century past.

By no means the most northerly trading-posts of the great fur-trading company, Fort Vermilion, their present destination, seemed to our young friends almost as though it were at the edge of the world. Their journey progressed almost as though they were in a dream, and it was difficult for them to recall all of its incidents, or to get clearly before their minds the distance back of them to the homes in far-off Alaska, which they had left so long ago. The interest of travelers in new land, however, still was theirs, and they looked forward eagerly also to meeting the originator of this pleasant journey of theirs—Uncle Dick Wilcox, who, as they now learned from the officers of the boat, had been summoned to this remote region on business connected with the investigation of oil-fields on the Athabasca River, and had returned as far as Fort Vermilion on his way out to the settlements.

When finally they came within sight of the ancient post of Fort Vermilion, the boys, as had been the case in such other posts as they previously had seen, could scarcely identify the modest whitewashed buildings of logs or boards as really belonging to a post of the old company of Hudson Bay. The scene which they approached really was a quiet and peaceful one. At the rim of the bank stood the white building of the Company's post, or store, with a well-shingled red roof. Beyond this were some houses of the employes. In the other direction was the residence of the factor, a person of considerable importance in this neighborhood. Yet farther up-stream, along the bank, stood a church with a little bell; whereas, quite beyond the scattered settlement and in the opposite direction there rose a tall, two-story building with projecting smoke-stack. Rob inquired the nature of this last building, which looked familiar to him.

"That is the grist-mill," said Captain Saunders to him. "You see, we raise the finest wheat up here you'll find in the world."

"I've heard of it," said Rob, "but I couldn't really believe it, although we had good vegetables away back there at Peace River Landing."

"It's the truth," said Captain Saunders; "yonder is the Company's wheat-field, a hundred acres of it, and the same sort of wheat that took the first prize at the Centennial, at your own city of Philadelphia, in 1876. I'll show you old Brother Regnier, the man who raised that wheat, too. He can't speak any English yet, but he certainly can raise good wheat. And at the experimental farm you shall see nearly every vegetable you ever heard of."

"I don't understand it," said Rob; "we always thought of this country as being arctic—we never speak of it without thinking of dog-trains and snowshoes."

"The secret is this," said Captain Saunders. "Our summers are short, but our days are very long. Now, wheat requires sunshine, daylight, to make it grow. All right; we give it more hours of sunshine in a month than you do in a month in Dakota or Iowa. The result is that it grows quicker and stronger and better, as we think. It gets ripe before the nights become too cold. This great abundance of sunlight is the reason, also, that we raise such excellent vegetables—as I'm sure you will have reason to understand, for here we always lay in a supply for our return voyage. I am thinking, however," added the captain, presently, as the boat, screaming with her whistle, swung alongside of her landing-place, "that you'll see some one in this crowd here that you ought to know."

All along the rim of the bank there was rather a gaily-clad line of Indians and half-breeds, men and women, many of whom were waving salutations to members of the boat's crew. The boys studied this line eagerly, but for some time none of them spoke.

"I see him!" said Jesse at last. "That's Uncle Dick sitting up there on the bench."

The others also identified their relative and friend as he sat quietly smoking and waiting for the boat to make her landing. At length he arose and came to the staging—a rather slender, bronzed man, with very brown face and eyes wrinkled at the corners. He wore an engineer's garb of khaki and stiff-brimmed white hat.

The three boys took off their hats and gave a cheer as they saw him standing there smiling.

"How are you, Uncle Dick?" they all cried; and so eager were they that they could scarcely wait for the gang-plank to be run out.

Their uncle, Mr. Richard Wilcox, at that time employed in the engineering department of one of the Dominion railways, laughed rather happily as he bunched them in his arms when they came ashore. There was little chance for him to say anything for some time, so eager were the boys in their greeting of him.

"Well, you're all here!" said he at length, breaking away to shake hands with Alex and Moise, who smiled very happily also, now coming up the bank. "How have they done, Alex?"

"Fine!" said the old hunter. "Couldn't have been better!"

"This was good boys, all right," affirmed Moise. "We'll save her life plenty tam, but she's good boy!"

"Did you have any trouble getting across, Alex?" asked Uncle Dick.

"Plenty, I should say!" said Alex, smiling. "But we came through it. The boys have acted like sportsmen, and I couldn't say more."

"I suppose perhaps you got some game then, eh?"

All three now began to speak at once excitedly, and so fast that they could scarcely be understood.

"Did you really get a grizzly?" inquired Uncle Dick of Alex, after a while.

"Yes, sir, and a very good one. And a black bear too, and a moose, and some sheep, and a lot of small stuff like that. They're hunters and travelers. We gave them a 'lob-stick' to mark their journey—far back in the Rockies."

"Well, Alaska will have to look to its laurels!" said Uncle Dick, taking a long breath and pretending not to be proud of them. "It seems to me you must have been pretty busy shooting things, from all I can learn, young men."

"Oh, we know the country," interrupted Rob, "and we've got a map—we could build a railroad across there if we had to."

"Well, to tell the truth, I'm mighty glad you got through all right," said Uncle Dick. "I've been thinking that maybe I oughtn't to have let you try that trip, for it's dangerous enough for men. But everything's well that ends well, and here you are, safe and sound. You'll have to be getting out of here before long, though, in order to make Valdez in time for your fall school—you'd be running wild if I left you on the trail any longer.

"The boat will be going back to the Landing in a couple of days, I suppose," he added after a time, as he gathered their hands in his and started along the path up the steep bank; "but there are a few things here you ought to see—the post and the farms and grains which they have—wonderful things in their way. And then I'll try to get Saunders to fix it so that you can see the Vermilion Chutes of the Peace River."

"I know right where that is," said Rob, feeling in his pocket for his map—"about sixty miles below here. That's the head of navigation on the Peace, isn't it?"

"It is for the present time," said Uncle Dick. "I've been looking at that cataract of the Peace. There ought to be a lock or a channel cut through, so that steamboats could run the whole length from Chippewayan to the Rockies! As it is, everything has to portage there."

"We don't know whether to call this country old or young," said Rob. "In some ways it doesn't seem to have changed very much, and in other ways it seems just like any other place."

"One of these days you'll see a railroad down the Mackenzie, young man," said Uncle Dick, "and before long, of course, you'll see one across the Rockies from the head of the Saskatchewan, above the big bend of the Columbia."

"Why couldn't we get in there some time, Uncle Dick?" asked Jesse, who was feeling pretty brave now that they were well out of the Rocky Mountains and the white water of the rapids.

"Well, I don't know," said Uncle Dick, suddenly looking around. "It might be a good idea, after all. But I think you'd find pretty bad water in the Columbia if you tried to do any navigation there. Time enough to talk about that next year. Come on now, and I'll introduce you to the factor and the people up here at the Post."

They joined him now, and soon were shaking hands with many persons, official and otherwise, of the white or the red race. They found the life very interesting and curious, according to their own notions. The head clerk and they soon struck up a warm friendship. He told them that he had spent thirty years of his life at that one place, although he received his education as far east as Montreal. Married to an Indian woman, who spoke no English, he had a family of ten bright and clean children, each one of whom, as John soon found to his satisfaction, appreciated the Imperial Toffy which made a part of the stock of the Hudson Bay Company at that post also.



All of these new friends of theirs asked them eagerly about their journey across the Rockies, which was a strange region to every one of them, although they had passed their lives in the service of the fur trade in the north. As usual, in short, they made themselves much at home, and asked a thousand questions difficult enough to answer. Here, as they had done at Peace River Landing, they laid in a stock of gaudy moccasins and gloves and rifle covers, all beautifully embroidered by native women in beads or stained porcupine quills, some of which work had come from the half-arctic tribes hundreds of miles north of Vermilion. They saw also some of the furs which had been sent down in the season's take, and heard stories in abundance of the ways of that wild country in the winter season. Even they undertook to make friends with some of the half-savage sledge-dogs which were kept chained in the yard back of the Post. After this they made a journey out to the farm which the Dominion government maintains in that far-off region, and there saw, as they had been promised by Captain Saunders, wheat and rye taller than any one of them as they stood in the grain, and also vegetables of every sort, all growing or in full maturity.

"Well, we'll have stories to tell when we get back," said Rob, "and I don't believe they'll believe half of them, either, about the wildness of this country and the tameness of it. Anyhow, I'm glad we've come."

The next day they put in, as Uncle Dick suggested, in a steamer trip down to the Vermilion Chutes. They did not get closer than three or four miles, but tied up while the party went down on foot to see the big cataract of the Peace—some fifteen feet of sheer, boiling white water, falling from a rim of rock extending almost half a mile straightaway across the river.

"I expect that's just a little worse than the 'Polly' Rapids," said John. "I don't think even Moise could run that place."

Even as they stood on the high rim of the rock at the edge of the falls they saw coming up from below the figure of a half-breed, who was dragging at the end of a very long line a canoe which was guided by his companion far below on the swift water. Had the light line broken it must, as it seemed to these observers, have meant destruction of the man in the canoe. Yet the two went on about their work calmly, hauling up close to the foot of the falls, then lifting out their canoe, portaging above, and, with a brief salutation, passing quickly on their way up the stream.

"That's the way we do it, boys," said Uncle Dick, "in this part of the world—there goes the fast express. It would trouble the lightest of you to keep up with that boy on the line, too, I'm thinking. Some day," added Uncle Dick, casting a professional eye out over the wide ridge of rock which here blocked the river, "they'll blow a hole through that place so that a boat can get through. Who knows but one of you will be the engineer in charge? Anyhow, I hope so—if I don't get the job myself."

"You mustn't forget about that trip over the Yellowhead Pass, where your new railroad's going now, Uncle Dick," said Jesse, as they turned to walk again up the rough beach toward the mooring-place of the steamer.

"Don't be in too big a hurry, Jesse," returned his relative. "You've got a whole year of studying ahead of you, between now and then. We'll take it under advisement."

"What I believe I like best about this country," said Rob, soberly, "is the kindness of the people in it. Everywhere we have been they've been as hospitable as they could be. We don't dare admire anything, because they'll give it to us. It seems to me everybody gets along pleasantly with everybody else up here; and I like that, you know."

"It's a man's country," said Uncle Dick, "that's true, and I don't know that you'll be the worse for a little trip into it, although you come from a man's country back there in Alaska yourselves, for the matter of that. Well, this is the northern end of your trail for this year, my sons. Here's where we turn back for home."

They paused at the bend and looked once more back at the long, foaming ridge of white water which extended across from shore to shore of the stream which they had followed so far.

"All right," said Rob, "we've had a good time."

They turned now, and all tramped steadily back to the boat, which soon resumed her course up-stream.

Regarding their further stay at Fort Vermilion, or their return journey of several days southward to Peace River Landing, little need be said, save that, in the belief of all, the young hunters now had killed abundance of game. Although they saw more than a dozen bears on their way up the river, they were willing to leave their rifles in their cases, and spend their time studying the country and poring yet more over the maps which they were now preparing to show their friends at home.



XXXI

HOMEWARD BOUND

Arrived at Peace River Landing, the young hunters found everything quite as Alex said it would be, their belongings perfectly safe and untouched in the tent where they had left them. Uncle Dick, who now took charge of the party, agreed with them that it was an excellent thing to make Alex and Moise presents of the canoes, and to give Moise the remainder of the supplies which would not be required on their brief trip to Little Slave Lake by wagon.

At this time the telephone line had been completed from Little Slave Lake to Peace River Landing, and the factor at the latter post had sent word for two wagons and teams to come up for these passengers, outbound. There was little difficulty in throwing their light equipment, with their many trophies and curiosities, into one of the wagons, and arranging with the other to carry out the Jaybird, which, a little bit battered but practically unhurt, now continued the last stage of its somewhat eventful journey over the old Mackenzie trail—Alex, as may be supposed, watching it with very jealous eye so that it should get no harm in the long traverse.

Alex was thus to accompany the party for a few days, but Moise, who lived at the Landing, now must say good-by. This he did still smiling, though by no means glad to lose the company of his young friends.

"You'll come back some more bimeby," said he. "Any man he'll drink the water on this river one time, he'll couldn't live no more without once each year he'll come back an' drink some more on that river! I'll see you again, an' bimeby you'll get so you'll could carry seex hondred poun' half a mile an' not set it down. Moise, he'll wait for you."

When they reached the top of the steep hill which rises back of Peace River Landing, almost a thousand feet above the river which runs below, they all stopped and looked back, waiting for the wagons to toil up the slope, and waiting also to take in once more the beauty of the scene which lay below them. The deep valley, forking here, lay pronounced in the dark outlines of its forest growth. It still was morning, and a light mist lay along the surface of the river. In the distance banks of purple shadows lay, and over all the sun was beginning to cast a softening light. The boys turned away to trudge on along the trail with a feeling almost of sadness at leaving a place so beautiful.

"It is as Moise says, though!" broke out Rob, answering what seemed to be the unspoken question in the minds of his fellows—"we'll have to come back again some time. It's a man's country."

Hardened by their long experience in the open, the boys were able to give even Uncle Dick, seasoned as he was, something of an argument at footwork on the trail, and they used wagons by no means all the time in the hundred miles which lie between Peace River Landing and Little Slave Lake—a journey which required them to camp out for two nights in the open. By this time the nights were cold, and on the height of land between these two waterways the water froze almost an inch in the water-pails at night, although the sun in the daytime was as warm as ever. To their great comfort, the mosquito nuisance was now quite absent; so, happy and a little hungry, at length they rode into the scattered settlement of Grouard, or Little Slave Lake, passing on the way to the lower town one more of the old-time posts of the Hudson Bay Company.

"You see here," said Uncle Dick, as they paused at the edge of the water which lay at the end street, "only an arm of the lake proper. The steamer can't get through this little channel, but ties up about eight miles from here. I suppose we ought to go aboard to-night."

"If you will allow me, sir," said Alex, stepping forward at this time, "I might give the boys a little duck-shoot this evening on their way down to the boat."

"Why not?" said Uncle Dick, enthusiastically. "I don't know but I'd like a mallard or so for myself, although I can't join you to-night, as I'm too busy. Can you get guns and ammunition, Alex?"

"Oh yes," replied the old hunter, "easily. And I'll show the young gentlemen more ducks to-night than they ever saw in all their lives before. The Jaybird will carry all of us, if we're careful, and I'll just paddle them down along the edge of the marsh. After we've made our shoot, we'll come on down to the boat after dark, or thereabout."

"Fine!" said Uncle Dick. "That'll give me time to get my business completed here, and I'll go down to the boat by wagon along shore."

This arrangement pleased the boys very much, for they knew in a general way that the lake on whose shores they now were arrived was one of the greatest breeding-places for wild fowl on the continent. Besides this, they wished to remain with Alex as long as possible, for all of them had become very fond of the quiet and dignified man who had been their guide and companion for so long.

The four of them had no trouble in finishing the portage of the Jaybird and her cargo from the wagon to navigable water, and finally they set off, paddling for the marshes which made off toward the main lake.

They had traveled perhaps three or four miles when Alex concluded to yield to the importunities of the boys to get ashore. They were eager to do this, because continually now they saw great bands and streams of wild fowl coming in from every direction to alight in the marshes—more ducks, as Alex had said, than they had thought there were in all the world. Most of them were mallards, and from many places in the marsh they could hear the quacking and squawking of yet other ducks hidden in the high grass.

"We haven't any waders," said Alex, "and I think you'll find the water pretty cold, but you'll soon get used it to. Come ahead, then."

They pushed their canoe into the cover of the reeds and grasses, and disembarking, waded on out toward the outer edge of the marsh, where the water was not quite so deep, yet where they could get cover in rushes and clumps of grass. Alex posted them in a line across a narrow quarter of the marsh, so that each gun would be perhaps a hundred yards from his neighbor, Jesse, the shortest of the party, taking the shallowest water nearest to the road beyond the marsh.

They had not long to wait, for the air seemed to them quite full of hurrying bands of fowl, so close that they could see their eyes dart glances from side to side, their long necks stretched out, their red feet hugged tight up to their feathers.

It is not to be supposed that any one of our young hunters was an expert wild-fowl shot, for skill in that art comes only with a considerable experience. Moreover, they were not provided with the best of guns and ammunition, but only such as the Post was accustomed to sell to the half-breeds of that country. In spite of all handicaps, however, the sport was keen enough to please them, and successful enough as well, for once in a while one of them would succeed in knocking out of a passing flock one or more of the great birds, which splashed famously in the water of the marsh. Sometimes they were unable to find their birds after they had fallen, but they learned to hurry at once to a crippled bird and secure it before it could escape and hide in the grasses. Presently they had at their feet almost a dozen fine mallards. In that country, where the ducks abound, there had as yet been no shooting done at them, so that they were not really as wild as they are when they reach the southern latitudes. Neither were their feathers so thick as they are later in the season, when their flight is stronger. The shooting was not so difficult as not to afford plenty of excitement for our young hunters, who called out in glee from one to the other, commenting on this, the last of their many sporting experiences in the north.

They found that Alex, although he had never boasted of his skill, was a very wonderful shot on wild fowl; in fact, he rarely fired at all unless certain he was going to kill his bird, and when he dropped the bird it nearly always was stone-dead.

After a time Rob, hearing what he supposed to be the quacking of a duck in the grass behind him, started back to find what he fancied was the hidden mallard. He saw Alex looking at him curiously, and once more heard the quacking.

"Why, it's you who've been doing that all the time, Alex!" exclaimed Rob. "I see now why those ducks would come closer to you than to me—you were calling them!"

Alex tried to show Rob how to quack like a duck without using any artificial means, but Rob did not quite get the knack of it that evening. For a time, however, after the other boys had come over also, they all squatted in the grass near to Alex, and found much pleasure in seeing him decoy the ducks, and do good, clean shooting when they were well within reach.

At last Alex said, "I think this will do for the evening, if you don't mind. It's time we were getting on down to the steamer."

The boys had with them their string of ducks, and Alex had piled up nearly two dozen of his own.

"What are we going to do with all of these?" said Rob. "They're heavy, and our boat's pretty full right now."

"How many shall you want on the boat?" inquired Alex.

"Well," said Rob, "I don't know, but from the number of ducks we've seen I don't suppose they're much of a rarity there any more than they are with you. Why don't you keep these ducks yourself, Alex, for your family?"

"Very well," said Alex, "suppose you take half dozen or so, and let me get the others when I come back—I'll pile them up on this muskrat house here, and pick them up after I have left you at the steamer. You see," continued he, "my people live about two miles on the other side of the town, closer to the Hudson Bay post. I must go back and get acquainted with my family."

"Have you any children, Alex?" asked Rob.

"Five," said Alex. "Two boys about as big as you, and three little girls. They all go to school."

"I wish we had known that," said Rob, "when we came through town, for we ought to have called on your family. Never mind, we'll do that the next time we're up here."

They paddled on now quietly and steadily along the edge of the marshes, passed continually by stirring bands of wild fowl, now indistinct in the dusk. At last they saw the lights of the steamer which was to carry them to the other extremity of Little Slave Lake.

And so at last, after they had gone aboard, it became necessary to part with Alex in turn. Rob called his friends apart for a little whispered conversation. After a time they all went up to Alex carrying certain articles in their hands.

"If you please, Alex," said Rob, "we want to give your children some little things we don't need any more ourselves. Here's our pocket-knives, and some handkerchiefs, and what toffy John has left, and a few little things. Please take them to your boys, and to the girls, if they'll have them, and say we want to come and see them some time."

"That's very nice," said Alex. "I thank you very much."

He shook each of them by the hand quietly, and then, dropping lightly into the Jaybird as she lay alongside, paddled off steadily into the darkness, with Indian dignity now, saying no further word of farewell.



XXXII

LEAVING THE TRAIL

Continually there was something new for the travelers, even after they had finished their steamboat journey across the lake on the second day. Now they were passing down through the deep and crooked little river which connects Slave Lake with the Athabasca River. They made what is known as the Mirror Landing portage in a York boat which happened to be above the rapids of the Little Slave River, where a wagon portage usually is made of some fifteen or sixteen miles. Here on the Athabasca they found yet another steamboat lying alongshore, and waiting for the royal mails from Peace River Landing.

This steamer, the North Star, in common with that plying on Little Slave Lake, they discovered to be owned by a transportation company doing considerable business in carrying settlers and settlers' supplies into that upper country. Indeed, they found the owner of the boat, a stalwart and kindly man, himself formerly a trader among the Indians, and now a prominent official in the Dominion government, ready to accompany them as far as Athabasca Landing, and eager to talk further with Mr. Wilcox regarding coming development of the country which Moise had called the Land of Plenty.

They found that the Athabasca River also flows to the northward in its main course, joining the water of the Peace River in the great Mackenzie, the artery of this region between the Rockies and the Arctics; but here it makes a great bend far to the south, as though to invite into the Far North any one living in the civilized settlements far below. Their maps, old and new, became objects of still greater interest to the young travelers, both on board the vessel, where they had talked with every one, as usual, regarding their trip and the country, and after they had left the steamer at the thriving frontier town of Athabasca Landing.

Here they were almost in touch with the head of the rails, but still clinging to their wish to travel as the natives long had done, they took wagon transportation from Athabasca Landing to the city of Edmonton, something like a hundred miles southward from the terminus of their water journey. At this point, indeed, they felt again that their long trail was ended, for all around them were tall buildings, busy streets, blazing electric lights, and all the tokens of a thriving modern city. Here, too, they and their journey became objects of newspaper comment, and for the brief time of their stay the young voyageurs were quite lionized by men who could well understand the feat they had performed.

Mr. Wilcox was obliged to remain in the north for some time yet in connection with his engineering duties, which would not close until the approach of winter. He therefore sent the boys off alone for their railway journey, which would take them first to Calgary, and then across the Rockies and Selkirks through Banff, and forward to Vancouver, Victoria, and Seattle, from which latter point they were expected to take coast boats up the long Alaska coast to Valdez—a sea voyage of seven days more from Seattle.

Mr. Wilcox gave them full instructions regarding the remaining portions of their journey, and at length shook hands with them as he left them on the sleeping-car.

"Tell the folks in Valdez that I'll be back home on one of the last boats. So long! Take care of yourselves!"

He turned, left the car, and marched off up the platform without looking around at them even to wave a hand. His kindly look had said good-by. The boys looked after him and made no comment. They saw that they were in a country of men. They were beginning to learn the ways of the breed of men who, in the last century or so, have conquered the American continent for their race—a race much the same, under whatever flag.

Even on the railway train they found plenty of new friends who were curious to learn of their long journey across the Rockies. The boys gave a modest account of themselves, and were of the belief that almost any one could have done as much had they had along such good guides as Alex and Moise.

The Rockies and the Selkirks impressed them very much, and they still consulted their maps, especially at the time when they found themselves approaching the banks of the Columbia River.

"This river and the Fraser are cousins," said Rob, "like the Athabasca and the Peace. Both of these rivers west of the Rockies head far to the south, then go far to the north, and swing back—but they run to the Pacific instead of to the Arctic. Now right here"—he put his finger on the place marked as the Yellowhead Pass—"is the head of the Saskatchewan River, and the fur-traders used to cross here from the Saskatchewan to the Columbia just the way Mackenzie and Fraser and Finlay used to cross to the Peace from the Fraser. I tell you what I think, fellows. I'd like to come back next year some time, and have a go at this Yellowhead Pass, the way we did at that on the head of the Peace—wouldn't you? We could study up on Alexander Henry, and Thompson, and all those fellows, just as we did on Fraser and Mackenzie for the northern pass."

"Well," said John, "if we could have Alex and Moise, there's nothing in the world I'd like better than just that trip."

"That's the way I feel, too," added Jesse. "But now we're done with this trip. When you stop to think about it, we've been quite a little way from home, haven't we?"

"I feel as though I'd been gone a year," said John.

"And now it's all over," added Rob, "and we're really going back to our own country, I feel as if it would be a year from here to home."

Jesse remained silent for a time. "Do you know what I am thinking about now? It's about our 'lob-stick' tree that our men trimmed up for us. We'll put one on every river we ever run. What do you say to that?"

"No," replied Rob, "we can't do that for ourselves—that has to be voted to us by others, and only if we deserve it. I'll tell you what—let's do our best to deserve it first!"

The others of the Young Alaskans agreed to this very cheerfully, and thus they turned happily toward home.

THE END



TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent.

2. "Uncle Dick" is variously referred to as both Richard Hardy and as Richard Wilcox in this book; in transcribing this book, no effort was made to correct this.