Ti-ti-pu: a Boy of Red River
Copyright© 2024 by J. Macdonald Oxley
Chapter 12: The Moose Hunt
Mr. Macrae allowed Hector to take Dour and Dandy, and, as Narcisse had two good dogs of his own, they were well provided. The only other member of the party was Narcisse’s half-brother, Baptiste, not equal to him in intelligence and experience, but a strong and good-natured fellow, who would take his share of work or danger.
They took a horse apiece, not to ride, for of course they travelled on snowshoes, but to carry their blankets, buffalo-robes, cooking gear, etc.
Hector was a very happy boy as he set forth on a superb winter morning clad in the warmest of clothing, and striding along upon his snow-shoes, in the use of which he had become quite expert.
His mother watched with eyes in which there was anxiety as well as admiration and love, but all she said was: ‘Be verra carefu’, laddie, and do whatever Narcisse bids you.’
They steered north-east from Pembina and travelled all day without interruption, except for the necessary mid-day meal.
The country now appeared to change somewhat. The deep woods had given place to rolling prairie, broken at the sky-line by low poplar bluffs. By nightfall they had reached the frozen marshy borders of the Roseau River. East from its waters there stretched hundreds of miles of spruce forest, home of the moose, caribou, and the great timber wolf. A rough camp was quickly made, and in the morning the hunters pursued their way again through the deep evergreens. In a short time more they would have reached the hunting-ground, when an accident occurred, that almost caused them to turn back empty-handed.
Narcisse, on his snow-shoes, in stepping over a half-burned log, fell forward, wrenching his knee so badly that on rising he could scarcely walk. All thought of the hunt had now to be given up, but as they were sadly retracing their steps, they espied the smoke of a tepee at the end of a small clearing.
A few minutes later, and to their joy they were in the broad tepee of their former friend, Wikonaie, who was himself, at that moment, preparing to start on a hunt.
Failing Narcisse, nothing would have suited Hector better than to have Wikonaie accompany them. Narcisse was left in Wikonaie’s tepee in charge of the young Indians, and the horses were also left at the camp, as well as Narcisse’s two dogs, who answered ill to orders from any one except their master. Then the party eagerly set-out.
The hours were passing without any sign of game, when Wikonaie gave a cry of joy. ‘See!’ he cried, ‘you know what that means? Eh, I will show you a great moose soon.’
Their eyes followed the direction of his finger, and there, plainly printed in the snow, which was softer here, was the great footprint which, from its size, could be no other than that of the quarry they sought. They exchanged exclamations of surprise and delight, and then Wikonaie, bidding them tighten their belts, for there would be no dinner that day, gave out his plan of campaign.
The moose was ahead of him, perhaps only a mile or two; they must push forward with utmost speed and at the same time utmost caution. For this purpose, Wikonaie would lead the way, Baptiste follow, and Hector bring up the rear, keeping Dour and Dandy at heel until their services should be required.
Thus, in Indian file, they went on for quite another mile, when Wikonaie, with a low exclamation of warning, suddenly sank to his knees, at the same time pointing to something under the tree that his sharp eyes at that moment caught.
Coming up to him, the others imitated his attitude, and peered in the direction indicated, until presently they also made out a great dark mass, half-obscured by the tree-trunks, but manifestly not motionless.
‘We come up to heem behind,’ said Wikonaie, in a dramatic whisper, ‘not in front, but on de side. You follow me!’
With the infinite care of the experienced hunter, Wikonaie made his way in a sort of semi-circle which, at the end, brought him within firing distance of the moose, and almost straight behind him. As the wind blew straight from the moose towards the hunters, things seemed very much in their favour.
‘Ah, now, we must be ver’ careful, ver’ careful, not make no noise,’ whispered Wikonaie to his companions, who nodded eager assent. Yard by yard they crept upon their unconscious prey. The giant creature had struck a small bunch of particularly young and juicy trees, and he was enjoying them to his heart’s content.