A Surprise and a Catastrophe.
The trail of the Eskimos as they traversed the frozen sea, although not always very distinct on the hard snow, was as plain as a highway to one so skilled in tracking as the Indian chief Nazinred. The weather having been clear and calm ever since he left home, the marks had not been obliterated, and he pursued his way without halt or hesitation.
But on the fourth day out there came symptoms of a change. The chief had adopted the plan of travelling during every hour of the short day, or twilight, in order to make more sure of not missing the trail, and the stars with frequent aurora borealis had made each night so brilliant that he advanced almost as easily as during the day-time. The fourth day, however, on awaking, his ears were greeted with sounds that caused him to rise in haste and force out the door of his sleeping hut, when to his dismay he found that a furious gale was blowing, that the sky was black, and that he could hardly see the poor dogs, whom he found crouching as close as possible on the sheltered side of the hut. In these circumstances, to advance without losing his way was impossible, so that he was compelled to make the most of his time by sleeping as much as he could.
To do him justice he possessed a wonderful capacity in that way. Having put the sledge outside in order to make room, he called all the dogs in, resolving that the poor things should not be exposed to the pitiless storm. Then, having fed himself and them, he lay down with them and was soon in happy oblivion.
Of course he had no artificial means of measuring time, and, the sky being overclouded, darkness visible pervaded the region. But a healthy stomach helped in some degree to furnish a natural chronometer, and its condition when he awoke suggested that he must have slept till near daylight of the following day. Rousing the dogs, he gave them a feed, ate heartily himself, and then went out to look at the weather.
The sight which the grey dawn rendered barely visible was one which caused him to return to the hut with extreme promptitude for his gun, for, about fifty yards off, were two white polar bears of apparently, colossal size, frolicking about in a curious manner, and evidently amusing themselves with something. The something turned out to be the chief’s sledge, which the bears had unpacked; eating whatever they had a fancy for, scattering about what they did not want, smashing the sledge itself to pieces, and twisting the leathern wraps and cordage into unimaginable knots.
Nazinred did not discover all this at once, being too much excited by the unexpected visit to note trifling details. Besides, prompt action was necessary, for the four dogs, on becoming aware of what was transacting outside, made a united and clamorous dash at the foe. Two of them, being too valorous, ran close up to the bears, who seemed to regard them with haughty surprise. Another movement and the two dogs rose into the air with a yell in unison, and fell back upon the snow, where they lay motionless. The other two, learning wisdom from experience, kept back and barked furiously.
Nazinred, although taken by surprise, was used to sudden alarms and not easily frightened. Knowing that the two dogs were very courageous, and therefore all the more likely to run into danger, he sprang forward towards the nearer of the two bears. It rose on its hind-legs to receive him, and in this position appeared to stand at least eight feet high. Without a moment’s hesitation the Indian pointed his gun when the muzzle was not more than a foot from the creature’s breast, and fired. The bear fell dead on the instant, shot through the heart.
The loud report and flash frightened the other bear away. It was closely followed, however, by the dogs, and the chief availed himself of the opportunity to re-load. While he was thus engaged a peculiarly loud yell told only too plainly that one of the remaining dogs was injured, if not killed. He called to the remaining one to come back. Obedient to the call it returned, and, to its master’s great relief, proved to be his favourite Attim, a good deal cut about the shoulders and much crestfallen, but not seriously injured.
“Down, Attim,” said his master.
The poor creature obeyed at once, and his master hurried forward, but the bear had retired.
The result of this encounter was that three of the dogs were killed, many of his things destroyed, and his provisions rendered almost useless, while the sledge was irreparably broken to pieces. There was daylight enough to render the extent of his misfortune visible, and to show him that the trail which he had been following so long was drifted over and entirely obliterated.
To a man of weak resolution this might have been overwhelming, but Nazinred was very much the reverse of weak, and his utter recklessness of life in his endeavour to recover his lost child would have rendered him a hero for the time being, even if he had not been one by nature.
After collecting the remains of his property, and ascertaining that the sledge was hopelessly destroyed, he made up his mind to carry the provisions on his back and push forward in the direction pointed out by Adolay until he found her. If he did not succeed, the failure of his food would soon end the struggle.
It was some consolation to the unfortunate man that his favourite dog had been spared. The amount of “company” afforded even by an ordinary dog is well-known, but the civilised world can but feebly understand the value of a more than usually affectionate creature in the forlorn circumstances in which our Indian was now placed. Like many other people, he had got into the habit of talking to the dog about himself and his affairs, as if it were human. Whether he held the opinion we have heard so often expressed that “he understands every word I say,” we cannot tell, but the gravity of his expression and the solemnity of his tone when conversing with it, encouraged that belief, and the very earnest attention of the dog almost justified it.
But the friendly feelings existing between them did not relax the chief’s notions of discipline. Attim was not permitted to follow his master as an idle companion. He was made to carry, or rather to drag, his own food, by means of a collar with two pieces of stick attached, the ends of which trailed on the ice, thus forming as it were a pair of trains without wheels. This is a simple contrivance, largely used by the prairie Indians with their horses as well as dogs. The two sticks or poles, being long, project a good way behind the animal, thus leaving space for a load. As the poles are suited to their size, each horse or little dog is loaded with an appropriate bundle, and it is to be presumed does not feel overburdened.
When all was arranged, Nazinred started off with a large pack on his broad shoulders, and Attim, with a small bundle, followed close at his heels.
Of course the Indian shouldered his gun, and he slung upon it his snow-shoes, for the hard-driven snow rendered these unnecessary at the time. He also carried with him a bow and quiver of arrows, with the ornamented fire-bag—made for him by Adolay—which contained his flint, steel, and tinder as well as his beloved pipe and tobacco.
Things went well with him for the first few days, and although the trail was now lost, he guided himself easily by the stars, of which he had been careful to take note and make comparison with the hand in the letter before disturbing its position. But one night the sky became overcast, and he would have been compelled to halt had he not previously laid his course by several huge icebergs which towered up in the far distance.
When he had passed the last of these bergs, however, he began to hesitate in his movements, and Attim, trotting quietly by his side, looked inquiringly up into his face once or twice with the obvious question, “What’s the matter?” in his soft brown eyes—or some Dogrib idiom equivalent thereto.
“I’m afraid to go on,” murmured the Indian gravely.
To this Attim replied with a reassuring wag of his tail.
“Without stars it won’t be easy to keep the straight line,” continued the chief, stopping altogether and looking up at the clouds.
Attim also looked up, but evidently could make nothing of it, for he turned his eyes again on his master and wagged his tail dubiously.
At the moment a rift in the clouds revealed some of the s............