Ti-ti-pu: a Boy of Red River
Copyright© 2024 by J. Macdonald Oxley
Chapter 3: A Cold Plunge
Hector had all but reached the pine. In fact, one more stride would have brought him to its trunk, when his right foot slipped upon one of the outspreading roots, hidden under a carpet of smooth brown needles, and he pitched forward, narrowly escaping striking his head against the massive trunk.
He was little hurt by the fall, but he was very much dazed, and the bear might have had him in its deadly hug ere he could have recovered himself, had not a new actor appeared upon the scene. The boats had come to a halt to rest the men just about the time that Hector ran off after the dogs, and Andrew Macrae, noting the boy’s disappearance, snatched up a gun and climbed the river-bank to see what had become of him.
‘He’s na here,’ he exclaimed in surprise, as he stood looking all about him. ‘Where can the feckless bairn ha’ gone to?’
Just then his keen ears, trained not to miss the slightest sound, caught faintly the sharp barking of the two dogs. ‘Eh! eh!’ he muttered. ‘They’ve started up some creature—maybe a squirrel or the like. I’ll just run and see what they’re doing.’
So, gun in hand, he set off at a long easy lope that was little slower than a horse’s trot. As the barking came more strongly to his ears, he realized that something serious was taking place, and quickened his pace, until he had reached the limit of his powers.
But a few minutes of such exertion were required to bring him to the scene of action, and swinging around the pine tree, he arrived at the very crisis of his son’s peril.
Throwing the gun to his shoulder, and not waiting to take careful aim, he fired just as the great black brute reared to strike at Hector. The whole charge of heavy buckshot took effect full in the bear’s breast, and down he pitched almost upon Hector, but incapable of further harm.
Mr. Macrae’s feelings were so mixed that he hardly knew how to express himself. He had been angry with Hector for straying away from the river-bank, but now he was naturally hugely proud of his own success as a bear killer, and this rose superior to his anger. Raising Hector to his feet, he said, mildly enough: ‘Ye didna heed ma word, laddie,’ and then added with swelling voice, ‘eh, but it’s a grand creature! Rin now to the boat, and tell the men to come and help me with it. I canna carry it back alone.’
Relieved beyond expression at his escape from the bear, and from his father’s deserved reproof, Hector darted off, and presently returned with several of the men, who were all greatly interested in the big game Andrew Macrae had bagged.
Andrew was anxious that his ‘gude wife’ should see his noble prize, before it was skinned, and so he persuaded the men to help him take it down to the river.
The little party made quite a triumphal procession, with Hector proudly leading the way, the four strong men bending beneath the weight of their trophy, and the two dogs frisking and barking about them, evidently quite aware of the important part they had played in the business.
Of course, Hector’s mother both scolded and coddled him, and little Ailie gazed with startled eyes at the motionless monster, and Dour and Dandy came in for unlimited praise and patting, which they accepted with their wonted dignity. Among the boatmen were those who knew exactly what to do with the bear, which was in superb condition, and the splendid skin having been carefully removed, the best part of the meat was saved to provide juicy steaks and cutlets for the travellers’ table.
From the Hayes River, the boats turned into the Stool, and then into the Fox River, and later into the Hill River, which was the most rapid of all, and very difficult to work up against its opposing currents.
One of the worst places was Rock Portage, where the river, pent in by a range of small islands, formed several cascades, none of which could be ascended by the laden boats. It was, therefore, necessary to take out all the cargo, portage it across one of the islands, and then, by dint of tremendous toil, drag the big boat across the island, and launch it again above the cascade.
This sort of thing went on day after day, until at last, to the infinite relief of the tired toilers, they reached Oxford House, an important post of the Hudson’s Bay Company, where a rest of several days was allowed for them to recuperate.
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